That Which We Hate - A teen looking for a new apartment

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Natalie's temper had been brought, at last, to boil. This was the first day of the rest of her life, but if her mother had her way it would be over before it started. Natalie had landed the perfect apartment at an incredible price, just off campus, and while of course it was very good of her parents to help her move there was simply no reason for the whole process to have dragged on for so many hours.

And all the time her mother Sarah had been making snippy little asides, a running commentary of Natalie's perceived shortcomings: I know you have trouble doing this, you'll have to be proactive about that, be sure to stay on top of such and such...

Natalie was nineteen: fresh-faced and pretty, with large, dark eyes and fair hair that fell to her shoulders. Though she was just 5'1", her long, toned legs made her appear taller: a runner's build. Meanwhile, Sarah--also short, also blonde, also doe-eyed--was shaped like a pumpkin. Even so, Natalie thought darkly, that was no excuse for acting like such a heinous bitch.

"The extractor fan could do with a clean," Sarah observed. "Run a sink of hot water for me while I take out the filter."

"No, Mom," Natalie. "It's fine. I can do that myself."

"I'd really rather just handle it now," said Sarah. "So that I know that it's done."

"I'm not a child, really. I'll do it tonight."

"More likely, you'd put it off for months, and I'd end up doing it next time I visit."

"Mom, you don't have to be so controlling."

"Better I do it now than later! I do know what you're like, Natalie."

Just then her father entered, heaving a stack of boxes in exactly the wrong way.

"Daa-ad!" said Natalie. "You have to make her stop!"

"Stephen!" said Sarah.

"Yes?" said Stephen. "Pardon? I think this is the last of it," he added, irrelevantly. Stephen was a slight man, with thinning hair and a thickening middle, who always had about him an air of imminent departure. As tensions mounted between his wife and daughter, he had been spending an increasing amount of time in the rec room with his prohibitively expensive hi-fi system, listening to the same records he'd had since his twenties.

"You have to let me live my own life," said Natalie. "It's no use getting angry just because my ass isn't two feet across and I can still fit--"

"OK now!" interjected Stephen, "Uh-huh, OK, now, I think we've all said quite enough."

"If you had the slightest idea what I've done for you--" Sarah began.

"I do know, because I've never heard the end of it! It's all you ever talk about! It's as if you have no interests of your own!"

"You ungrateful, spiteful little brat," Sarah hissed through her teeth. And before Natalie could respond, she turned and stalked out of the apartment.

There was a silence. Stephen sighed: the sound of a man defeated before he'd even started. Something about this just made Natalie angrier--there was something so pointless, so hopeless and pathetic, about middle age.

"I'll call you when we get home, pet. And I just hope you have an apology ready when I do."

Natalie heard the sound of her father retreating down the stairs, then what could have been the sound of a car starting up and driving away outside, and then just the sound of her breathing and of blood rushing past her temples.

There was absolutely no way she was cleaning out the fucking extractor fan.

Without knowing quite why, Natalie decides to bake.
The next morning, Natalie goes into town to buy new clothes before college starts.
The next morning, it's raining heavily and Natalie is stuck inside the apartment.
Something else.

Page created by: mules on 2020-06-25 03:34:34.

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