My eyes continue to dart around the living room, scouring for any creepy crawlies. A cockroach decided to appear before me an hour ago before disappearing into a dark corner, and I have the guts to neither catch it nor make a huge fuss about a six-legged creature at 1 am, so the best I can do is to keep it as far away from me as possible.
As usual, my mum was pretty pissed when I came home after midnight, and the first thing she said was, “Why are you in my blouse?” So I struck up the idea of praising her dress sense and fashion taste to the skies, which managed to appease the lioness just a little. Alright, I’m feeling pretty guilty here, so I’ll keep myself at home tomorrow, apart from my driving lesson. I should have told her and Dad that I’ll be late (which I had conveniently forgotten), so I should be grounded or banished to the gallows.
I don’t know if all I can do is to pretend that nothing’s ever happened every time the same thing crops up. It’s getting increasingly difficult to suppress those hurtful words with each occurrence, but I’ll keep it inside for the sake of a friendship and with the hope that things will change for the better. It’s unlike me, but I shall defy Nature and myself to retain this friendship. It means a lot to me, so I don’t see why it seems like trash to you.
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