We all have mostly an average life, but some like to think that their lives are anything but average. That one day you will walk into school and see the beautiful new guy sitting at your table in Biology, then everything goes downhill from that. Most of the time, this is when the supernatural gets involved. Take Bella and Edward for example. Or Emma and Galen. Or Amelia and Josh. But since vampires arent real (Believe me, they're not), and mermaids dont exist either, people just dont know what a manatee is. And I dont think the ghost part of the afterlife is as detailed as Tara Hudson makes it out to be. But most of these characters lives changed after they turned the age of 16. I liked to think that when I reached my junior year of high school that my life would change forever. That some gorgeous, perfect guy would sweep me off my feet and we'd runaway forever. But also, this is coming from the girl who had nothing else to count on but her dreams, which will break her heart, like my father did when I was 6 when he left both me and my mom.
I liked to sit and daydream, that one day my life would get better. That my mom wont be stressed when she comes home for a few hours and we would go shopping or bake cookies and watch soap operas rather than her sleeping and me waking up to leave for school.
My mom never hired a baby sitter considering she couldnt afford one, so she would work all day and make sure she was off in time to get me from school. But as soon as I was old enough to stay home alone without killing myself or blowing up the house, my mom got two jobs.
So on the nights when I was alone, had no friends to talk to, I would sit on my bed and dream about the day I turned 16. I would have a big party and invite my whole school. I would have pictures of me and my friends goofing off as everyone watched us. It was my dream birthday. It would be the birthday when it wouldnt just be me and my mom, sitting at the dining room table eating a cake she baked and receiving a gift that would cost us our meals for the next week. But my perfect sweet sixteen party changed two years ago when I got into high school.
I knew that I wasnt going have many friends, for some reason people didnt like me like that. I wasnt hated or anything or picked on, or antisocial. People were, and still are, nice to me. Some say hi to me when im passing them in the halls at school and some friendly hands come and help when Ive accidentally dropped everything and papers go flying everywhere. But that doesnt happen often. I have acquaintances, just not friends that I could sit and tell my deepest secrets too. Some girls though will invite me out with their friends after school, mostly this is followed after a conversation after we bump into each other. I do agree, im not shy, we usually go to a coffee shop or Dunkin Donuts, and just talk. Its not awkward, not really, they dont exclude me or treat me like I was invited as a generous offer, hoping I would have had turned it down.
But I didnt care if I had no true friends or that boys never ask me out. Thats why the summer I turned fourteen I decided I wanted to go to France for the big sixteen. I told my mom and she said she would do the best she could. But at that moment is when for some reason, the financial problems really stuck to me. I got a job at a local skate shop that sells punky clothes and accessories for boys and girls plus stuff for skateboards. We do sell skateboards, but they're not kept in stock, you have to order them. I got the job when I was 15, which I am thankful for. I forgot all about my super sixteen and focused on reality, on the present. I helped my mom out with the bills and instead of putting my paychecks towards France, I put it into a jar labeled COLLEGE on my desk. I rather give myself a better life in the future. Get a career so I never have to live the way I did,never let my kids grow up the way I did. If my husband left us, so what? I could easily hire a nanny or maybe hopefully, I would have a friend I could trust. I could always have my mom help too.
So was I disappointed while most girls got huge birthday parties and cars for their sweet sixteens and I got a cake from Walmart and a hand knit sweater my mom made miraculously in her time? A bit. But it was my life. Nothing I could do about it.

My alarm screeched out the next morning, jerking me from my dream. I rolled over quickly and smashed my hand on top of it, silencing it before it woke mom up. I heard the shuffling of foot steps downstairs and the clattering of dishes, and I knew then that my mom was already up. I sighed as I threw the covers off of me and swung my feet off my bed. The carpet fell beneath my feet as I padded to my window, leaving the warmth of my bed. I parted my curtains and let the sun shine in. Through the warmth of the sun, I could feel the coolness coming off the glass of the window.
I got dressed- skinny jeans, light blue long sleeve shirt paired with a black vest, black Converse- and went down stairs. The smell of muffins wafted in the air. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw my mother, in grey sweats with her hair in a low ponytail, bending over taking a muffin pan out of the oven.
"Good morning," Mom said as I entered. Bags lined the bottom lids of her eyes. Wrinkles creased on her forehead from working hard. She put the pan on top of the stove next to an identical pan already filled with muffins that had been cooling. She tossed off her oven mit and turned the knob on the banner of plastic above the stove to turn off the oven. It made a click as the orange dot disappeared.
"Morning," I said as I grabbed the black sticks off of the counter where I left them yesterday. I twisted my hair up and stuck them in, securing the bun. The long layered pieces of hair that werent long enough for the bun fell into my face. I pushed them to the side of my face, the hair sweeping across my forehead.
"Oooh muffins!" I sang as my mom started popping them from the first pan and putting them on a plate. I grabbed one, letting it sit on my palm as I grabbed a knife and started buttering it. I slid into one of the benches at the little kitchen table in the middle of the room. I bit into the warm muffin, smiling in satification. The bread, cinnamon, sugar, fruity concoction filling my mouth with its sweetness, I was sad to swallow it, letting it go. My mom placed a glass of orange juice in front of me, but I had my mouth to full of muffin so I just nodded a thanks.
I finished my muffin, two actually, and gulped down the rest of my juice. I put on my wrap around sweater, which actually only goes a little past my elbows, but its cute and comfy and keeps most of me warm. I tied it and slung my bag across my shoulder.
"Bye mom," I said to the grey hairing women chewing absentmindedly at the blueberry muffin she was eating, like she wasnt even in her body. A robot, not knowing how to proceed with life. I kissed her cheek before turning and walking out of the kitchen and out of the house.
The cold Minnesota air welcomed me as I walked down the steps, careful not to slip on any left over ice or snow from last weeks snow fall. I walked down the sidewalk.
School was the same ol same ol. People said hi to me as we passed in the halls as we went to our classes. We had a pop quiz in English which I happily passed. With all the spare time I have on the weekends when im not working, I study so im prepared for this stuff. And as always Mrs. McIntosh, my yearbook instructure, droned on and on about the history of the camera. Yearbook is the only extracurricular I do, only because it allows me to use my creativity. I always like doing something, like designing and decoration and crafting stuff. I like making beautiful things out of scraps. On payday, I drive two towns over to the craft store. I just pick up random things, mostly on the clearance table. I totally hoard it. I like making cards, mostly for every occasion. I have stacks of them piling up around my desk. Its just something that keeps my hands, and my mind, busy.
As I was walking down the empty hall after Yearbook, the next event to a normal day happened: The four trouble makers running away from, well, getting in trouble. Almost every day they are causing some kind of mayham, usually pranks. They play varsity hockey at our school, and everyday after practice they are always getting caught for something, wether its by Mrs. Lockhart, or whatever person fell their victim that day.
The four boys barreled down the hall, yelling to one another. You could hear their yelling before they even got to the hall. They all swiftly ran past me. But one of them knocked into me, sending everything in my arms, and me, to the floor.
"Sorry!" The boy with short choppy dark brown hair said. He was scrawnier then his friends and the other hockey players, he didnt quiet look like the hockey playing type. But oh well. His blonde friend had him by his shirt collar, pulling him along as they ran and disappeared behind the corner before I could get a word out.
I sighed as I sat on the floor, not wanting to get up and pick up all my stuff. atleast he was nice enough to say sorry.
I finally peeled myself off of the floor and gathered up all of my belongings and exiting the school.
Work rushed by, thankfully. I got home just before it started to pour. The sound of my foot falls echoed through the house as I walked in. I didnt see my moms car in the driveway so I knew she wasnt home. My keys made a clattering sound as the metal met the wood of the table in the hall going towards the kitchen as I put my keys down. I went to the kitchen and put my back on the counter. I stood there for a minute, looking around, at everything and nothing at the same time. I had no where to go and no one to talk to. I have felt it before, but I never really cared. But this time, I was really lonely.
And I didnt like it one bit.