CLAUDE

To be honest, I was kinda hoping for my brother to change his mind during our drive. Maybe he'll realize I can handle myself after all and that he didn't need to move out just to teach me a lesson. Or maybe he'll realize how immensely dependent I am on him and I won't be able to survive long without a trusted brother.

That was the longest drive of my life, yet. I just kept seeing myself in other people we passed by. At a park, I saw a bearded man teaching his little daughter how to train their family dog. She couldn't get all the techniques but they were having a really good time. And isn't that what it's all about anyway? Having fun?

Then I saw a family of six leaving a fast food chain and walking to their car. The car was a little old and rusty, and the fast food place looks a little crappy, too. But they were all dressed up nicely. The little girl in front, who I'm guessing is the youngest and the birthday girl, seemed so happy. They all did. And I noticed they were just like us. A mom, a dad, four siblings. Except our car is nicer, but they looked a lot happier. So that's a loss for me.

My brother used to tell me to not spend too much time in parks because I will just pity myself comparing our family to others. So even though I hate partying with girls in shiny dresses or going out with guys in Ferraris, I guess I'd rather see these crazy rich people cry inside their Lamborghinis than watch poor families be happy with what they have.

We pulled to the driveway and he parked in front of my room's entrance. Yes, my room has its own entrance. I had it made when I was at that age where partying is life and I usually come home past midnight. I'm not a heavy drinker, if you're wondering. I just love going to these parties and listening to these rich people's problems while they vent them all out and drink all the world's whiskey.

"Would you like to help me pack my things?" I flipped a little when he said that. Seriously? He wants me there, watching him leave?

"Are you serious?" I didn't sound mad. I think I didn't sound like anything at all.

"About packing? Or About leaving?"

"Both."

He sighed. "Yes". That was all he said, then he climbed back to his car and drove away. But he'll be just in his room, using the mansion's main entrance. I walked to mine and just laid there in my bed. Hmmm, silk sheets. Scented candles filling the room with scents of warm, strawberry croissants. My painted ceiling that took fifteen people to complete. Everything seemed so perfect, but what I'm feeling wasn't.

I looked around my room, like I always do when I'm alone. Which is always. It may be the size of three two-bedroom suites, all corners are adorned with gold-palleted pedestals, abstract paintings that cost thousands of dollars, and mesmerizing chandeliers. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of those newly-bought candles.

***

I didn't know how long I'd passed out, but I'm certain that Ken had been here for a moment while I slept. I knew because I am now blanketed with my favorite cyan comforter. My phone beeped once for a message.

"Downstairs."

I guess I may have passed out for quite a while since Ken must have finished packing. I immediately ran towards the sweeping staircase, which by the way, has a red carpet on it. Oh, mom.

He was standing below with his luggages. I confirmed I was asleep for a long time because both my parents were here too. And my mother was looking at me with her arms crossed and her sharpest glare. I froze for a moment with her look but then I just shrugged it off. I get that everytime, it's no big deal.

I went down with them and Ken hugged me tight. "I'm gonna miss you, aight?"

I just smiled at him. I'm too afraid that if I say one word, tears will run down and my mom would say I'm playing the victim again. Plus, she still has this glare so I'd better play this lowkey.

"But seriously Ken, where are you gonna stay?" That was my mom.

"I bought an apartment last year in Uptown, remember?"

"I don't." My mom was pouting like a little girl except that she's not trying to be cute. My mom was pretty when she was younger, but now you can see that she has aged a lot.

"Don't worry about me. I'll come home for Thanksgiving. And Christmas. And New Year's." He kissed my mother's forehead while he's other hand is still holding mine tight.

My other two brothers weren't home but I knew they couldn't care less. It might sound weird that we are all still living in the same house we grew up in, but what else are you gonna do if you're living in a 15-hectare mansion?

"At least let me give you a ride," that was my father. He barely speaks, but when he does, he does it very softly. Everyone in my relatives says my dad is a soft-serve ice cream and my mom is a torch. I don't know what that means but maybe they want to say that my mom may be as feisty and hot-headed as she is but she always melts my dad's heart. I don't know how she does that but I still think up to now that she used a love spell on my dad.

As Dad and Ken left, l promptly turned my back from the door and walked back upstairs.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I may sound like a brat sometimes, but I'm certain I got it from my mother. She sounded more like a villain in a soap opera than a mother to me. Her arms are crossed once again.

"Uhmm, to my room?" I answered as plainly as possible to end the conversation as easy as possible.

"What was that all about?" Her eyebrows were short from plucking but now they're crossed too much that the two ends met.

"What was?"

"See, even your brother couldn't stand your pettiness. But he was the one who had to go." She was moving her arms dramatically as she talked but now they were crossed again.

"So you would rather have me gone?" That one came out a little more emotional and painful than I intended.

"No. Because unlike him, you had nowhere else to go." That was the last thing she said and left to the kitchen.

I couldn't believe it. My own mother couldn't stand having me in her home. It pains me to think all these, but perhaps I've been made tough by all the other times she treated me less than her child before.

I just went back to my room and grabbed my mini-calendar. It's only a week before Thanksgiving. I can't wait until then. I miss my brother already.

I marked another X on today's date. November 17. Only 14 days left before the big day. MY big day. I can finally live the life that I've always wanted.