.06. | - | Upside Down | - | [[And]] | - | Inside Out | - | .06.

.06. Being Trapped .06.

Apparently all of my hard work and effort wasn't exactly up to par with Mom's ideas of being clean. The moment we had stepped foot into the household yesterday evening she scolded me for all I was worth for not picking up the small fragments of shredded tissue on the ground. She must have had excellent vision to have seen them in the first place. Dad had argued that she was being unreasonable, and I heartily agreed with him. If she wanted this place spic and span then perhaps she should have done it herself. Seriously, all of her bickering was unnecessary and overall annoying.

It was always me who was chewed out for not doing something the right way, better known as Mom's way. Perhaps it was because I was too headstrong to actually abide by all of her ridiculous rules. Unlike Jazz or Craig, I didn't hang onto every word she said and follow her every demand. Dad said I was too much like her, personality wise of course. My appearance was inherited from him since we were the only dark colored people in our family with brown eyes and hair. Everyone else had dark blonde hair and bright blue green eyes. I had to explain this to Michael after we arrived because he seemed overly perplexed at how much Mom and I clashed with one another.

A whole night had slipped by while I enjoyed a nice dreamless slumber. The sun was high in the sky signaling the fact that it was approximately noon. I sighed, dramatically. A certain part of me was overjoyed at the knowledge that Mom wasn't home today. It was one of the rare days in which she went out to lunch with a few of her friends and then went to get her nails done afterward. Mom did it every other week, and often complained at how genuinely annoying her friends had been during the expanse of the day. This was why she barely ever left the confines of the house without Dad accompanying her. I really hoped that someday I wouldn't turn out like she had. I could barely stand being cooped up in the house for a few hours let alone days at a time.

My eyes shifted toward my bedroom door when someone started to knock loudly on the other side. I wanted to throw something at the entranceway to make my unwanted visitor to go away, but instead ushered them in with a loud "What is it?"

The door opened a crack, just wide enough for Mikey to poke his head inside, "Your Mom just called and told me to get you up."

This time, the urge to throw something overwhelmed me. I gripped a pillow in my grasp and chucked it at the boy before burying my head in my covers once more. Michael chuckled at my immaturity, skillfully catching the fluffy object with a single hand. He returned the gesture and threw the pillow harshly back at me. I inhaled a deep breath just before I had a mouthful of fluffy pillow. Removing my possession from my face, I narrowed my eyes at Michael in a hateful glare. His face molded with fear, and before I could do anything else to him he ran from my room.

"MICHAEL!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

I darted out of my room in an instant, ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcame from my sudden movements. My hand still clutched the pillow tightly in my grasp. I had every intention of pulverizing the boy with the cotton-filled object. I knew it wouldn't cause any permanent damage, unfortunately, but as long as it caused him some pain I was okay with it. As far as I was concerned, the boy was asking for it.

My bare feet collided painfully with the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Seeing as Michael wasn't anywhere upstairs, I jumped down three steps and landed on the landing perfectly before heading down the next row line of stairs. This time I only went two at a time. I turned the corner harshly and entered the living room where Michael was sitting in mock innocence with a barrier made out of a few couch pillows. I rolled my eyes at him inwardly while holding the pillow high into the air with both hands. Michael smiled at me from behind his barrier. He obviously thought he was slick.

Just as I was about to throw my dangerous weapon at the boy's unprotected face, it was plucked from my grasp. I turned abruptly to see my dad standing behind me with my pillow in his hand. A nervous grin worked its way onto my lips. He seemed a bit aggravated with me, but then again he always was when I acted childish. I was waiting, patiently, for his long lecture on how I should act my age more, but it never came.

"Doodle Bug, try not to kill the boy," Dad muttered, tossing the pillow onto the couch beside Michael's fort.

"I wasn't going to kill him. Just, you know, beat him to a bloody pulp a little," I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Dad rolled his eyes, "Word of advice, Michael. Don't ever try to wake her up directly unless it's something important. If you have to wake her, just call her cell and she'll get up then. Otherwise, she'll take it out on you all day."

"Sorry," Michael replied. "I didn't know..."

Dad forced a smile onto his unhappy face. I knew something must have been wrong if he was acting so serious. He usually wasn't the type to scare the living day light's out of people with his stern expressions. I made a mental note not to cross paths with him today on bad terms. Dad could be pretty intimidating at times.

"Go get dressed," Dad said while leaving the room.

I nodded to acknowledge his words and shot Michael a look that clearly told him to keep an eye peeled at all times. Even though my fun was interrupted now it didn't mean I couldn't get him back later on today. His face paled ever so slightly, but said nothing. With a half hearted wave, I exited the room. It was only then that I realized I was still dressed in my pajamas which consisted of an oversized T-shirt that went down to my mid thigh and a pair of black cotton shorts that were hidden discreetly under the shirt. My face flushed a dark pink at the thought of having Michael see me dressed like this, but I figured I had to get used to this type of thing. After all he'd be living with me from now on.

It was a strange thought. Of course deep down I had realized that this was going to happen, but now that it was I couldn't believe it. It just felt... off. Knowing Michael would be here every second of the day was different than I thought it would be. I thought, maybe, I'd only have to see him when I felt like seeing him, but like everyone else in this household he'd be there no matter what. I just hoped he didn't get on my nerves too much, otherwise I might have to regret ever saving him in the first place.

| - | - | - | - |

I stared at myself in the mirror, studying my appearance rather closely while brushing my damp hair to one side. After disappearing into my room for a good thirty minutes I had taken a shower to prep myself for the day. Nothing said wake up and smell the sunshine like a nice hot shower! I was trying to look happy, I really was. But knowing I'd either be locked away all day because of the stupid reporters standing watch outside or being stuck with my family for the rest of my life was kind of depressing. I was hoping that by some miracle during the shower my whole life would change back to the way it was just days before, but no such luck. It was a bummer, really.

It wasn't like I dreaded ever meeting Michael, actually far from it. The boy was actually a decent enough person and we were slowly but surely becoming what I would call friends, but I could do without all the publicity I was getting because of my heroism. It was getting annoying to have to sneak out of my own house whenever I was actually had to leave. I was sure the rest of the inhabitants within my household were feeling the same way I was. No matter how many times I convinced myself that I was still a free person, I couldn't help but feel a tad bit trapped.

My frown deepened at that thought, and I had the sudden urge to punch my reflection. Of course it would prove quite painful if I punched the mirror, so I didn't do anything of the sort. Still it would've made me feel better, or at least I had hoped it would.

Sighing, I grabbed a hair tie and pulled my nearly uncontrollably wavy hair into a low ponytail which draped around my left shoulder. I brushed my bangs to the side of my head so that they didn't get into my eyes. I thought I had looked half way decent considering my circumstances. My outfit for the day was simple. It consisted solely of a pair of black capris and a white tank top and the same brown and green hoodie I had worn yesterday while sneaking out of the house to retrieve the sickly from the hospital. Of course, I knew Michael wasn't exactly sickly, and neither was Mom, but it just sounded better than amnesiac and psychotic mother. It's not like my mom was crazy or anything either.

While enduring my shower, I had remembered that last night I promised to take Michael shopping for some clothes. He'd been borrowing a few old outfits from Craig's stuffy closet since he'd gotten out of the hospital, and obviously he couldn't keep doing that. Craig would become quite antsy when and if he ever discovered we let some strange boy, not that Mikey was strange, wear his stuff. At first I started to dread having to go to the mall with him, but now that I really thought about it I knew it wouldn't be that bad. A little fresh air and normalcy could never be a terrible thing, I concluded.

I applied a light cover of makeup as usual and headed out the door and toward Craig's room which was now being occupied by Michael. I knocked brusquely on the wooden entranceway before hearing someone clambering toward the door. Michael opened it soon after I had knocked with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. I rolled my eyes at him. He looked incredibly ridiculous right now, and I vaguely wondered if he realized this.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked, knowing the answer would of course be no.

He yanked the toothbrush out of his mouth, "Almost."

"Hurry up," I quipped. "I don't want to wait around all freaking day for you."

"Okay," he nodded.

A look of discomfort flashed across Michael's face, and I was barely able to catch it before he closed the door. I felt an instant of guilt pang my heart. Okay, so I could have acted a little nicer to him but I was in a bad mood today. There really was no actual reason for me to act that way toward the boy. It was just easier to act like I didn't care than to pretend to be happy for a split second. Of course I realized soon after that all actions of disrespect and bad humor had instant repercussions. The boy looked absolutely terrified of me in that small instant before the door concealed his face. I could only imagine the horrible feelings that were sprouting within him about me. He must have thought I hated him by now, which was far from the truth. I was just annoyed with life, that's all.

A few minutes had passed in which I waited downstairs at the kitchen table for Michael to finally come down. When he did, he looked a little downcast. I smiled gallantly at him while grabbing my car keys from the table and standing to my feet in one swift motion. He didn't seem to notice my smile and shuffled forward and out the kitchen door. I inhaled a long breath only to release it into a sigh. This was going to be a long day after all.

I climbed into the driver's seat of my mustang while Michael did the same with passenger's seat. The engine came to life soon after, and I pulled out of the driveway instructing Michael to fiddle with the radio stations to see if there was any good songs on. He settled for a song that I faintly recalled as being All That I've Got, by The Used. It was a slightly older song, but I still liked it. An awkward silence had flitted between the two of us while I drove down the road like a madwoman. I couldn't tell if Michael felt uneasy by the way I was driving, or if it was because of the way I acted earlier. Either way, something was definitely wrong. I hummed along with the song to ease the tension.

"Did I do something wrong?" Michael asked his voice low.

"Hmm..?" I inquired. I glanced his way a moment before returning my gaze back to the road quickly. "What makes you think that?"

Michael exhaled a long sigh, "Your family is acting like I'm just a burden now that I'm staying with you. I thought maybe something was wrong with me-"

"It's just all the media craze around us," I laughed. "It has absolutely nothing to do with you personally, just the attention the two of us are gathering at the moment. I'm sorry about earlier if I was a bit harsh on you. I'm just annoyed, you know?"

"Oh," Michael said.

He seemed to physically relax a little. Michael leaned further against the vinyl seat while his eyes were trained on the outside of the window. For some reason, it made me feel better to know that he wasn't upset anymore, or whatever he was. Ever since I had met him I always had the notion that I had to make sure he was okay. It was like a motherly instinct, and I could only guess it was because of the circumstances in which we had bumped into one another. I felt comfortable with him, actually. Even though I hadn't known him for long it felt like I had. I suppose it was just because we've been inseparable since he woke up in the hospital. I began to wonder if he didn't suffer from amnesia, if we would have ended up being friends in the end. It was weird to think we wouldn't.

"So do you have any particular fashion you're going for?" I questioned, breaking the silence.

"Fashion? You mean like style, right?" he replied. I merely nodded, and he took this as his opportunity to speak again. "Not really. Anything's fine by me. I don't want to spend your parent's money."

I chuckled at this, "Trust me, Mikey, they don't mind. I spend their money all the time, and they don't usually complain. I actually think they like to lend money to me. It makes them feel important, I suppose, because it’s the only thing I ever ask them for anymore."

"What'd you mean?" he probed.

"Never mind that we're here," I responded.

I thought I was successful at avoiding an awkward topic, but apparently Michael had caught on to my sudden change of topic. Ignoring his frequent glances, I pulled into a parking spot that was pretty close to the food court entrance which I thought was a miracle in itself. We exited the car soon after I turned the engine off and made our way into the mall. Seeing as Michael had no idea as to what kind of clothing he wanted, I thought it was best to have a variety of stores that we could check out.

Michael followed behind me closely in a way that reminded me of a lost puppy trying to find its way home. It humored me enough to make me laugh which earned me a strangled look from the boy. I merely grinned with a shrug. We entered the mall courtesy of the large glass doors underneath the neon sign showing outsiders it was the way into the food court. As soon as we walked into the mall, Michael stopped. A look of awe inspired wonder crossed his face and I couldn't help but chuckle at him slightly. He looked so innocent right then and I had to wonder why he was being pulverized in the alleyway the day I had met him.

However, all sense of happiness and bubbly euphoria drained away suddenly when a calm voice came from behind me. A look of absolute dread and shock crossed my features, because it wasn't hard for me to identify who it belonged to.

"Well, if it isn't little Destiny Summers, the girl who saved a life."

It was then that all sense of horror flooded my body, and I knew I was drowning slowly within my own emotions. Somewhere deep down I had realized that hell itself had finally frozen over, and I was the cause of this. Oh karma, why do you hate me so?