FicWad

It was Saturday. D-day. Traitor’s day. The beginning of the end. Or, what mom liked to call it, “Get Rid Of Bandit Day.”
I was standing by the living room window, watching miserably as the dirty rain water dripped down the glass slowly. The sky up above was dismal and depressing, ark storm clouds floated above menacingly, rain pouring down, reflecting how I felt inside. Betrayed. Miserable. Upset. Angry. Hurt. All of the above. Mom was messing around in the small, built in kitchen, pretending she cared by fixing me up a packed lunch for the agonisingly long car drive to Gerard`s home in New Jersey. I bet you any money it contained cyanide or arsenic. Or tranquilizer to keep me doped up for the ride at the very least.
“Now Bandit, Sweetie,” She re enters the room, a clear plastic container holding all sorts of delicious looking food in her pale ring covered hands. She always had on at least three or four different rings, but never wore one on her left ring finger. She couldn`t bring herself to.
“Here is your lunch; I made your very favourite cheese and onion sandwiches.” It was supposed to be a peace offering, to make me feel better, but I ignore it, not even mumbling a quiet, quick thanks and continue glaring out into the empty, dark street.
“Your bags are all in the hall for when your dad gets here.” This does get a reaction out of me and I snap at her, the first words I had spoken all day.
“That bastard is not my father. He is nothing to me. Nothing.” I snarl.
She seems quite taken aback by my cold, cruel response and an uncomfortable silence falls across the brightly decorated living room as we both wait anxiously for a familiar black car to pull up outside.
“Now errm, Bee.” She begins hesitantly. “Gerard doesn`t know that you have you nose and tongue pierced. Or your ears.”
“yeah, so?” I snap, glaring up at the messy haired, pale skinned woman I hated too call my mother right now. she looked utterly exhausted; her bright, intelligent eyes were surrounded by dark shadows. If I wasn`t so angry with her and this whole situation right now, I might have felt a little sorry for her.
“My body, I can do what I like.”
“Well he might not approve and blame me, so I was thinking of maybe just for a few days you could at least take the nose and tongue stud out. You know, to make a good impression?”
I narrow my eyes. If he was going to hate them, then they were definitely going to stay.
After what seems like an eternity of waiting a beat up looking black, muddy car pulls up outside. A tall and thin man dressed in combat boots, dark jeans and an Iron Maiden shirt steps out of it, spinning his silver keys around as he locks it. a tangle of messy, bright red hair sits atop his pale, slightly creased forehead; his eyes were a bright hazel, just like I remembered, just like mine. His lips were a pale pink, set into a slight frown as he strolls up the path and knocks once on the door. With every step I watch this familiar man take up the path, I feel my tiny, toned stomach sink a little further and the knot in my embarrassingly underdeveloped chests tighten painfully.
“Lyn-z!” I glare up as he awkwardly shake my mother`s hand, feeling even sicker just to watch this traitor touch her.
“Gerard.” Mom smiles, a little forced looking but her dark eyes were glittering a little with what appeared to be happiness. I had to hand it to her, if it was me who was meeting my ex husband who had deserted me for another woman, he wouldn’t still be standing right now. The lousy dickhead would be crawling around on the floor clutching his man parts, shrieking girlishly in agonizing pain.
“Bandit, come over and say hello.” I flash her my famous death glare and unwrap my purple skull candy headphones from around my neck and press play on my red IPod, not bothering what song I was listening to, just as long as it was loud enough to block them both out.
“it`s okay, she doesn`t have to if she doesn`t want to.” I didn`t want to. I most definitely did not want to go anywhere near that disgusting, loathsome waste of space. I would sooner chew of my own right arm. “I fully understand if Bandit doesn`t want to see me right now, I wouldn’t want to in her position.” Yeah right, like he understood anything I was thinking. If the stupid, apparent know it all school psychologists didn`t know what I was thinking, then I was pretty damn sure this bastard didn`t either.
“Well everything is packed, isn`t it Bandit?” I stay silent and turn the volume up even louder, M. Shadow`s tormented, screeching lyrics blasting into my ear drums at full volume now.
“Right.” The intruder smiles brightly, a rather fake, plastered on expression if you asked me. Not that anyone was of course. I was invisible, unimportant, a waste of good, clean air.
“So we should probably head off now, Bandit.” It turns to face me. My eyes form thin hazel slits, the smudged, black eyeliner and blood coloured eye shadow only adding to the scariness of my famous death glare.
I say nothing, simply grab my coffin backpack and storm past him, not looking up from my ratty converse laces that were trailing on the carpet. I take hold of the pull up handle on my large, fill suitcase and trudge outside and down the path, my favourite headphones doing a good job of blocking out my mother`s teary farewell. They were only crocodile tears anyway.
“So Bee, how have you been?” Gerard, I refuse to call him dad, places my suitcase in the boot of the car and opens the passenger side door for me. I glare and get in the back, slamming the door loudly. How dare he use my old nickname the one he used when I was a happy, carefree little girl? He lost the right to do that the day he walked out on me. That was also the day he became a nothing in my hazel, heavily made up eyes.