I never knew who I was, or who I would be, hopefully I would be them forever.

Cold winter morning and I had already woken up late. I missed the bus and my dad once again was passed out on the couch after his 137th night out in a row. He didn't care that I was late, neither did I.

 I walked out into the kitchen where it was pitch dark, the lights had been busted for months. Nobody bothered to fix it considering we didn't really have the money to do it.

I made myself a bowl of cereal, even though I knew it was stale. My father was still asleep and I didn’t feel like going to school. 

“Maybe a walk would be nice,”  I thought to myself. Walks reminded me of my mother, how her sweet rose red hair would blow in the wind, her emerald green eyes would shimmer in the light. My mother was the most wonderful woman I knew.  Finishing my cereal, I quietly ran to the door to grab my winter boots and a coat. I always struggled a bit to lace my shoes but this time I just left them untied. They were still wet from the day before but I didn't really care. I slowly opened the broken hinged door to try not to make very much noise but it still sqeaked, peaking around the corner I saw my dad staring right at me. I was so scared he was going to be mad, but he just waved me on and turned over to the opposite side. Quickly I went out the door and quietly shut it. I figured it's best I cleaned out the yard instead of going on a walk. The yard  was a mess but we didn't really have much supplies to clean it. I turned around to look at my small one story double-wide beaten down dirty house. Everybody in our little town of Turnyale knew we weren't very rich. A few years ago our money was flushed down the drain after my mother died of tuberculosis. Me and my father moved onto some old acreage my grammy had owned. Everything went downhill from there.

I started to shovel the snow into a pile, and rake the leaves into another. I watched as each leaf fluttered into the other leaf. I never knew how tiring yard work was until I had to do it. A few minutes earlier I saw the mailman stop by, but I didn't bother to check the mail. Everything we got in our mail was a bunch of junk, it was always some expired coupons or places desperate for workers. After just a few piles I already felt tired and wanted to rest. I sat on my favorite tree stump when I heard a voice,

"Loriana, what are you still doing at home? Are you sick? You shouldn't be outside in this cold weather." It was Mrs. CoughleMan. She was the sweet mother of my best friend Annabelle-Mariane. A lot of people called her Annie-may, but I just called her Annie. Annie was like the pretty girls from the movies that everybody liked. I was her poor best friend.

"No Ma'am, I missed the bus and my father can't take me to school so I am doing chores around the house." I replied.

"Okay, be careful I don't want you to get hurt." Mrs. Coughleman cautioned. She was very caring and kind to me so I enjoyed talking to her. She had been divorced about two years back but she never bothered to change her name. Maybe she was still hung up on her previous husband. I watched her walk back across the street to her nice home, where she had blooming flowers, trees with rope swings, and a porch bench that rocks. Sometimes I wished I lived at her house, wished she was my parent, and wished I had a perfect life, but I knew I had to take care of my dad and his mess that he leaves behind for me to clean up.

Moments of long thinking got me back to work. Then I heard it. I forgot..

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The garbage! if I ran inside and got the trash right now I could still make it. I sprinted for the front door, I jiggled the lock till it opened. I felt like I was going so fast because I grabbed every trash bag in about 3 minutes. I ran out the front door slamming it shut with all the bags in my hand. Seeing  the garbage truck turning down the road got me running a little bit faster, which meant I could still catch them if I hurried. I grabbed the trash bin and started to haul it down the drive. I saw that the gate was still closed as I walked towards it. I ran and unhooked the gate, just to turn around and that the trash bin was rolling back down the drive. I ran to catch it as I saw that the garbage truck was almost at my house. When I caught it felt a lot lighter but I kept running, at least I would get most of it. I stood in front of the gate with the trash bin at my side. Thinking for a second I was so confused, it went straight past my house without stopping, until I saw the recycling sign on the back of the truck. I plopped down on the ground, it was Thursday not Tuesday. I missed the bus, my dad passed out on the couch again, and I mixed up the trash days, my day couldn’t get worse. That is when I saw the stray dog we call “Jen” . I whistled to him from the road, he was very skittish so it was hard to get him to come over.  “Jen” finally came over and sat right next to me. Surprisingly he didn't have any fleas, somebody must have been caring for him. I thought maybe the dog was hungry, so I decided I would bring him some of the leftover plain spaghetti noodles I would've had for lunch at school. I normally made anything left in my pantry and took it for school the next day. I didn’t have money for school lunch, and I didn’t bother asking for one. Some people gave me their extra food but I normally didn’t take it. I got up from sitting next to the trash can, but when I started walking I tripped over my shoelaces. My hands hit the jagged ground as I put them out to catch myself, but I still scraped my knee on the rocky gravel driveway. Looking at the indents the rocks put on my hands, I got up, tied my shoelaces and started to walk again. My knee actually started to hurt but I just tried to ignore it. As I walked I watched as the little bugs crawled through the rocks, and my foot landing for every step I took. I didn't notice but "Jen" was following behind. When I got to my door I saw all the dust and leaves that had collected over the last 3 years. I slowly opened the door and stepped inside. My boots and socks were wet from the snow, I slowly unlaced my shoes, and slid them out from the squished, wet, jail they had been in. I felt the nice warm air from the vent blowing right through me. I walked along our raggedy old carpet and felt the individual carpet strings squish in between my toes.  I heard clicking of nails on the front tile, I turned around to see  Jen  standing in the foyer. I had accidentally left the front door open, I tried to wave him out because he was tracking in dirt. When I heard the springs of the couch make a creaking sound, I knew I was in big trouble. The steps of my dad's feet were getting closer and closer. I rushed to the front door, almost slipping on the melted snow I had tracked in. Jen  started running out the door and I slammed the door shut. My dad turned around the corner,

“ Loriana, what in the world are you doing?” he asked

“ I was doing yard chores and needed a drink but the door wouldn’t shut all the way.” I responded. My dad started to walk towards me and he pushed me out the way. He opened the door and saw Jen standing in the front yard.

"Get out of here you dang dog!" my dad yelled. "Stupid strays, I swear I'm going to shoot them one day,” I watched as Jen ran away and my dad slammed the door shut. "Loriana," my dad paused and let out a big sigh "Loriana did you miss the bus again?" he asked

"Yes but I don't want to go to school today, I'm already focusing on chores." I responded quickly. My dad just looked at me, the look of bereavement that he does every time. I looked at him back and squinted my eyes. I squinted them so hard like a sharp knife. It felt like forever, but it was really a few seconds. He let out another sigh and walked back into his room and plopped down on the couch. My dad used to be this great man with money, top of power with people looking up to him. 

Except.

Except for me.

My dad always was supercilious and looked down on others. Ever since my mom died he has gotten more and more condescending.