Page 17 of Vows In Corruption

With a groan, I place my laptop on the bed next to me and throw the covers off my body.

Time to get the day started.

As the second alarm of the morning goes off down the hall, I quickly get dressed in a pair of leggings and a t-shirt that probably has been in my closet since middle school, before walking out of the room and heading out to the kitchen.

The second I open up the fridge and see the contents inside, I let out a sigh.

Grocery shopping is going to be at the top of the list for today, because the amount of food that we have is comical.

The same can be said about the amount of money I currently have in my bank account, because now that the major bills are paid, the amount I saw three weeks ago almost feels like damn pennies.

This just keeps getting more depressing and it’s not even eight in the morning yet.

Putting the thoughts of my empty fridge and bank account out of my head, I start making egg sandwiches from the food that we do have.

As I toast the bread and scramble the eggs, I start going through what I need to get done this week and what needs to be paid.

Not only is getting a job at the top of things that need to get done, right next to getting groceries, I also need to call the building super to come out and check the dryer and the shower since both have been out of commission for the past three days. As for bills, rent is cover for this month, but electricity, internet and cellphones are all due Friday.

Just the thought makes my eye twitch.

Looks like I will be doing food delivery, on top of my sixteen hours at the restaurant until I’m able to secure something better. And if I get super desperate, I can always become a dancer or something. Put those two years of barre to good use.

I’m wrapping up the egg sandwiches in foil when I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I look up just in time to see my little sister coming into the kitchen looking like she wants to do anything but go to school.

“You look like you were electrocuted.” I say out loud, not able to take my eyes off her hair. Her naturally wavy, dirty blonde hair look like it’s in desperate need of a brush and a conditioning treatment.

Her clothes are also all wrinkled as if she pulled them out from the deepest pits of her closet.

“My hair straightener decided to crap out not even half way through doing my hair and the clothes I washed yesterday still haven’t dried yet, so I had to go looking for a shirt that wasn’t ripped.”

I guess calling the super just went to the top of the list. And add buy a new straightener to the bottom, because I need it too if I continue to apply for new jobs and get interviews all over the city.

“I’m sorry, Char. I’ll call the super as soon as he gets in. I should have called him sooner to come fix the dryer.”

My sister, who is just sixteen years old, looks up at me with a small smile.

“Don’t apologize. I should be the one that should be saying sorry. I shouldn’t have made it seem like it was your fault. It’s not. You have enough stuff on your plate as it is, you don’t need a whiny teenager telling you how much the dryer sucks ass.”

I throw her a smile and an eye roll.

“You’re not a whiny teenager.”

“That’s not what grandma used to say.”

A part of me breaks when I hear her say that, but I don’t let it show, because if I do, it’s going to make Charlie feel even worse. I don’t have a whole lot of memories when it comes our shared grandmother, I never spent a whole lot of time with her. I do remember that the bit of time I did spend with her, the woman was a bitch in a half. It was as if every single fairytale villain was put into a pot and out came out her. She used to call me names and I only spent a few hours with her, I can’t imagine what she might have told Charlie, who spent years with her. There is no doubt in my mind that that woman spewed hateful things to my little sister and actually meant, probably traumatizing Charlie even more.

I give my sister and eyeroll.

“Yeah, well, that lady didn’t know shit, so I wouldn’t take anything she said to heart.” I should believe what I preach, because there is shit that that woman said that still haunts me at night.

“I’ll do that, when you do the same.” My sister throws back my way as if she could read my mind.

And sometimes I think she can. Especially with everything that the two of us have been through since she was about nine years old.

Charlie and I didn’t have the greatest upbringings. To say it was dull and unadventurous, would be a disservice. Those two things would mean we actually had a childhood, a sad one but still one we would talk about occasionally.

No, the upbringing that we had can only be described as cold and cruel. More so for me, and if Charlie hadn’t come to live with me, she probably would have had the same fate but she didn’t, something that I’m thankful for.

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