Sinful

1

Kristen 

Life was tough but living it was tougher. If somebody would ask me to exchange my looks for a peaceful life, I would not hesitate or waste a second to think about saying yes. That's everything I had desired since seven; to live freely, without worrying about how we would manage to eat tomorrow. People said living a life in America was easy, but for me, it was cruel. If you have money, you can probably buy a person as your slave. If not, then you're someone's slave. 

I was a born American with no father and a mother who knew nothing about parenthood. Instead, I was the one taking care of her since the day I got conscious about this hard life. You must be wondering why I said I have no father but not an orphan exactly? It's because he left my mom when I was in her womb. It's like I was a death news to him so he ran away. I'd never seen him in my life. Mom once told me he was a handsome man and I got these looks from him. So, I tried to find him in people who somewhat looked like me but I never got the chance to bump into him. Again, that's life, right? 

"Kris, how long will you stay in your bed like a bookworm? Leave it now, it's been three hours," It was Emily Martins, my best friend who happened to be back from the grocery store. I was half hanging in the air and half laying on the bed. Finding her roaming in the room, I flipped to the mattress and laid dead like a corpse. 

"You're back, what did you bring for me?" I asked, putting the book on the nightstand. She threw a soda can and I caught it, putting the box of pizza on the bed along with a stuffed paper bag near me. 

I took a slice of pizza from the box and took a bite of it. "Here, your eighteenth birthday's pre-gift from me," She reminded me. Ah, It was my birthday tomorrow. A cursed day to remind me that I was never needed. I never felt happy like other girls. I never celebrated it in fact. But this time, on my best friend's request, I was willing to go for dinner with her family. I brushed my fingers with the paper bag, embarrassed that she bought a dress for me saying it was a gift. "Hey, it's yours, open it," She dragged it closer to me and I looked inside it, finding a box. 

"What's that?" I asked her but she didn't reply because she knew I knew exactly what it was. She read my diary last night where I wrote about having no money for a birthday dress.

Emily took the book I was reading from the nightstand. "Hmm, me before you, huh," Emily teased and waved the book at me. "Going quite emotional and romantic nowadays," she fell on the couch and turned the page to read something from it.

I pulled out the box from the bag, "Nothing special. It's just my newly adult hormones forcing me to read something lovey-dovey," replying, I removed the lid of the box and found a beautiful white dress with teal-coloured print. It was a silk dress. "This is beautiful, Em," I told her. She chuckled when she saw my face flooded with amazement. This one was the best dress I would ever wear. Sadly, I didn't like to have things for free but since it was my best friend who stood by me through thick and thin, I couldn't complain. 

Before I could refuse her for the dinner with a lame excuse, she got it covered for me. I love this girl. She was like a blood sister to me. 

I stood up and walked closer to her and hugged her tightly. She was really one of a kind. "I will miss you, Kris," She mumbled and a crack at the end was noticed by me. She was on the verge of crying and so was I. I spent ten years with her and now, I had to leave for Italy because my mom had no money for us nor we could find any affordable place that we could rent. 

So, we were moving to our grandmother's house for some time. I would apply for my modelling there and start my career as soon as I would hit an offer. "I'll miss you too, em. You are the only family I have," I told her, wounding my arms tighter. 

"I'll be worried for you. You know I can't trust your mom. She always likes to create problems for you," Though she was right but I had to pretend I disagreed with her. My mother never gave me a relieving moment but I could not leave her that easily. We were bound by a blood bond. The blood I was not proud of.

"I know, buddy, but she has changed a lot since that day. She promised me she won't do drugs or anything like that anymore. It's hard for her nowadays, you know." I knew I was lying to myself. She falsely promised me millions of times and never fulfilled it. Sex, drug, clubbing, gambling, alcohol, that was her life and I paid a big price for that. We sold our house because she lost it in gambling. 

Now, taking some of my savings into consideration, we managed to buy flight tickets. 

"You're insane to believe that, Kris," I know. I know I could not believe in her but this time, I could sense a change in her and that let her decide this big change of moving to another country, her country basically. 

"Yeah, I know that. But let's just take it to tomorrow. I'm running late for bed and you know it's a hectic day tomorrow," I just finished high school last week and I had to pack and discard some of my school stuff. I was done packing up my clothes and other essentials. It was the last task of the list. 

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room with my soda and book, stepping downstairs. I was welcomed by Mrs. Martins, Emily's mother. We chit chatted for a bit and I went for my coat near the main door with her. She escorted me and I walked alone to my house-for-a-few-days near to theirs. It was midnight and when I reached home. Mom was not at home. Maybe she would be having a farewell sex with her ex. Who knew. 

I locked the main door and went to my room. As I opened the door, I found out it was almost packed up. My favourite navy-blue couch was sold this morning, my studying table was no more with me and my bed, it will be gone tomorrow morning. Everything was vanishing. 

I took out my diary from my bag and jumped on the mattress. Sighing tiredly for a second, I flipped to my stomach and started writing about the day. I wrote how much I cried today and how mom promised me to give me a better life in Italy. She even cried, which happened for the first time. My head refused to accept her crocodile tears but my heart took the risk. After I finished writing. I put the journal in my drawer and laid down to sleep but to my supportive luck, I ended up staring at the ceiling for half an hour and with great struggle; dozed off to sleep.