nanowrimo10 (2)
I always felt like her neighbors were watching us from the confines of their homes, behind thick cream-colored draperies with piercing owl-like gazes. We would play outside in the vividly green grass in her front lawn -- a color I have found to only be duplicated on movie screens and television shows -- and not a soul would walk by. It was almost as if we were a part of a fantasy land where it was just us, searching for ladybugs and butterflies.
Her parents stopped us from playing in the front yard after the kidnapping case of 2003. I always thought her mother was ridiculous -- the kidnapping took place forty-five miles away in a low-class suburban town. And that kid had been alone. Annalise and I had always been together.
I personally thought that she prevented us from our outside adventures because of the neighbor's disapproving glares. Perhaps their viewpoint on the whole situation bent Annalise's mother's.
Soon we were locked inside Annalise's house, where we would climb up her carpeted stairs and hide behind soft as silk armchairs and underneath shiny mahogany tables. We would avoid the strange texture of the rugs; for us, it was like lava. Touching it would burn our feet, so we wouldn't take the risk.
We never visited my house anymore.
I don't even remember the last time Annalise went to my house. Maybe it was before she started dyeing her hair. Or maybe it was my thirteenth birthday party. Hell, I couldn't even remember if she had attended that. If we ever celebrated my birthday, it would be at her house. Just her and me. Her mother would make a little cake that I would eat about half of. Annalise would stare at me blankly as I shoveled the dessert into my mouth. She'd only eat one tiny piece of cake -- "I have to watch my figure, you know" -- and laugh as I'd guzzle down three glasses of milk.
"I don't get how you can eat that much and still be that skinny," Annalise said.
"I never eat like this," I pointed out. "Just once in a while."
And it was true. My parents were health freaks, which was probably why I never intended to have anybody over at my house anyway. Whole-wheat pizza with fat-free cheese and organic tomato sauce wasn't appetizing to anyone. It was surprise that I wasn't tinier than I was, actually. I didn't even drink normal milk -- soy milk was all my parents provided -- and sugar was taboo.
Like I said, my parents are health nuts. I have a feeling when I'm older that I'll be the same way, but who knows.
Annalise's parents, on the other hand, provide only the best food. I'm not saying that everything in her house is fattening, either. They skimp on a few things -- like reduced fat Oreo's -- and they do eat good, nutritious meals, but they always have a pantry full of barbecue chips, cake mix, brownie bites, and chocolate chip cookies.
"It's my 'I had a terrible day and now I want to eat until I can't feel anything anymore' cupboard," Annalise would explain to new friends when she'd have them over for a sleepover and we were all craving something sweet or salty or just plain fattening.
In comparison, my parents would have a cupboard full of soy products. Or pita chips. A healthier alternative to whatever Annalise would have.
So maybe food was the reason that I never hung out at my house with anyone, especially not Annalise.
Her parents stopped us from playing in the front yard after the kidnapping case of 2003. I always thought her mother was ridiculous -- the kidnapping took place forty-five miles away in a low-class suburban town. And that kid had been alone. Annalise and I had always been together.
I personally thought that she prevented us from our outside adventures because of the neighbor's disapproving glares. Perhaps their viewpoint on the whole situation bent Annalise's mother's.
Soon we were locked inside Annalise's house, where we would climb up her carpeted stairs and hide behind soft as silk armchairs and underneath shiny mahogany tables. We would avoid the strange texture of the rugs; for us, it was like lava. Touching it would burn our feet, so we wouldn't take the risk.
We never visited my house anymore.
I don't even remember the last time Annalise went to my house. Maybe it was before she started dyeing her hair. Or maybe it was my thirteenth birthday party. Hell, I couldn't even remember if she had attended that. If we ever celebrated my birthday, it would be at her house. Just her and me. Her mother would make a little cake that I would eat about half of. Annalise would stare at me blankly as I shoveled the dessert into my mouth. She'd only eat one tiny piece of cake -- "I have to watch my figure, you know" -- and laugh as I'd guzzle down three glasses of milk.
"I don't get how you can eat that much and still be that skinny," Annalise said.
"I never eat like this," I pointed out. "Just once in a while."
And it was true. My parents were health freaks, which was probably why I never intended to have anybody over at my house anyway. Whole-wheat pizza with fat-free cheese and organic tomato sauce wasn't appetizing to anyone. It was surprise that I wasn't tinier than I was, actually. I didn't even drink normal milk -- soy milk was all my parents provided -- and sugar was taboo.
Like I said, my parents are health nuts. I have a feeling when I'm older that I'll be the same way, but who knows.
Annalise's parents, on the other hand, provide only the best food. I'm not saying that everything in her house is fattening, either. They skimp on a few things -- like reduced fat Oreo's -- and they do eat good, nutritious meals, but they always have a pantry full of barbecue chips, cake mix, brownie bites, and chocolate chip cookies.
"It's my 'I had a terrible day and now I want to eat until I can't feel anything anymore' cupboard," Annalise would explain to new friends when she'd have them over for a sleepover and we were all craving something sweet or salty or just plain fattening.
In comparison, my parents would have a cupboard full of soy products. Or pita chips. A healthier alternative to whatever Annalise would have.
So maybe food was the reason that I never hung out at my house with anyone, especially not Annalise.