“Calypso!” My sister, the only one left in this disgusting house, was yelling for me to get up. It’s Monday. I woke up and noticed my room is no different. Why wouldn’t it be? The room was dark black. It made me feel normal. I was the only colored family member. I swear if this story is about me being black, I’m going back to bed. “Breakfast!” Mya is the most annoying creature existing today. She was burning my bacon. And my pancakes. AND my toast. I looked out my window. The sky was plain. I looked around. The room was empty but a hammock. We’re cheap. The idea of being expensive, would make me tired. That’s why I have Mya. Barcelona is a quiet place. Smelling of fish. I like fish. Thinking makes me tired. I fall over onto the floor. It’s fake, plastic wood. Everyone says it’s wood. It’s not. The sky shined like a piece of garbage. I felt lazy. The room only made me feel even more lazy. “I’m walking down.” I lied. I was sprawled across the room. Rolling in my own filth. I’m too old for this. How old am I? I don’t tell random strangers. Perv. I stood up and nearly vomited. Not a good idea rolling around. “CALYPSO!” Mya was getting mad. She was probably causing a fire again. The hall was narrow and clay. It was making me claustrophobic. I walked down the creaky stairs to what I could only describe as, weird. Mya’s hair was wrapped around a syrup bottle. She was trying to grab the scissors to cut her hair. “Mya, stop.” I wrapped her red locks onto my hand, held the bottle in the other, and tugged hard and quick. She squealed like her little pig self and screamed at me. “Why on the bloody EARTH would you do such an unspeakable thing to my hair? And another thing, you sleep too lo-” She kept droning on and on and on until I just sat down and ate my food. She suddenly grabbed my shirt. “Whose idea was it to have a pajama day at the bloody school? Ya dim wit.” She continued to make cruel accusations about how I might’ve been dropped when I was little. Maybe mum drank too much before I was born. Maybe I was slow. Autistic. Or god almighty a B student. I wish she would stop calling me a twit at the least. “You wanna go to school?” I asked. She seemed calmed when I asked. I grabbed my pair of clothes and tried slipping them on. She helped with my shirt since my hand was on the fritz. Anxiety and practically just insomnia. I’ve only slept for an hour today. That’s an all time record for me. I usually don’t get sleep at all. Luckily, my therapist gave me pills for sleep. Not easy when a coffee addict gets drugs. Just makes the night more “interesting” for me. I didn’t take my pills yesterday so I got better sleep. I might take some in a bit to take off the edge. Holy crap, I sound like I’m addicted or something. Okay, no pills then. No need to repeat the mum incident again. “Hey, Calypso?” Mya was sitting down, tying my shoes. “Are you okay about, well. Last month. I know it’s been tough lately, tougher on you likely . You did hang out with him a lot didn’t you?” She was referring to him again. “That’s enough alright.” I didn’t want to get into this situation. Tristan walked down the steps. He looked a bit pissed. “Go away.” I said. Mya was too far to hear me. Tristan was smiling. “No worries. I won’t make too much noise. I just want to know if you want to get out of here in that or something better.” He was wearing a Kiss t-shirt, some ripped jeans, and a bloody damn good looking jacket. His shoes kept skidding a bit. Mya was washing my shoes off. She knew the floor slid, but Tristan never cleaned his shoes. Mya’s dress was dirty again. She took off her dress and set it in the laundry room. She walked up to me in her underwear and protested I give her my shirt. I laughed and handed her my shirt. “Thanks!” She skidded away to her room. Ran past Tristan, and locked her door. Like that ever stopped me. “Hello?” Tristan asked. Oh, right. The outfit. “What’s wrong with it?” He looked me up and down. Chuckled a bit, then sighed. “Everything honey. Every thing.” Tristan grabbed my hand and dragged me up to my room. He opened one of his drawers and laughed. He held up a zombie shirt. It was one of my favorite. It was too small for the both of us. But it was an excellent crop top. “Honey, some guys want to see what you got!” He was so supportive. “No offense, but who wears Hello Kitty slippers anymore? And are those My Little Pony pants?” I take it back. Rude. “For your information. It’s the frog from Hello Kitty. And it’s not My Little Pony. It’s from LSP.” I blushed because I knew I was being childish. I love childhood shows so much. It’s like watching a show you can predict, but you always predict wrong. “Okay, okay.” Tristan giggled like a little girl and held up a pair of his skinny, ripped jeans. “Wear these? That is a bloody ‘elling YES!” He was so girly sometimes. I put on my outfit. I still felt incomplete. He grabbed his boots from in the closet. “There, wear mine. Oh and, don’t forget a jacket!” When did he become a mum to me? He started to sound like Mya. Tristan grabbed a slightly burned hoodie. I was shocked, I looked too good. But still, what else? “Do my makeup.” I wanted to look like Mya. Make up montages are tireless. I’ll spare you the details. Tristan made me look like a freaking god. Well, a hell god. Ooh. Satan. “Can you do me a favor?” Tristan looked up from his kit. He was closing the draw. “Do some henna too.” I wanted so anagrams. Like, L-M-N. Love me never. It’s easy, well, Tristan made the letters cursive so, yeah. It looked beautiful. He covered both my arms in a rainbow of colors, shapes, and inside jokes. He drew some many references, it was unbearable. Then Mya called me. “Hey! Answer your stupid phone for once.” She had called me 10 times. My music must’ve been too loud. I was blasting Red Hot Chili Peppers at the moment. I turned it down. “Sorry. Be right there.” I hung up. My door mirror was crooked, but I still concentrated on my appearance. The black hair, straight and wavy at the same time, was shiny. My necklaces and chokers were matching. I only wore 2 each. My gadges looks sharper than usual. Good. My outfit looked amazing. The henna matched everything as well. I wore fishnets under the ripped jeans so I didn’t get dress coded. For the crop top? It was long enough to meet dress code. Sorta. I walked out my door and grabbed my bag. Tristan was gone. I looked back behind me. No sign of him. Oh well, missing coffee. I grabbed my wallet and the keys. Mya stopped me then and there. “Stop. I’m driving rock star.” She was wearing a skin tight, strapless black dress. It clung to her like duct tape. She wore a crop leather jacket. She looked beautiful. Her wedges looked stunning. She always looked amazing. Her orange locks were in to braids. The kind that cling to your head and then some. She was out of this world smashing. But she always said- “Let’s go before I regret looking gross like this.” She would ALWAYS say that. It made me so mad. I made sure my StarBucks card was still in my wallet. So many discounts, so many choices. I always got Unicorn Frappe, even though they said they stopped making it. I make them do it. “Wanna lift Tristan?” I asked. He shook his head no. I understood. “See you later?” He asked. “See you later.” I knew what he was gonna say next so I readied myself. “Grak-tung!” We laughed. It was a thing he made up in one of his sketchbooks. He used to draw for me daily. He used to do it all the time. “Later bro.” I smiled. He walked off. “LET’S GO SLEEPING BEAUTY OR WE’RE NOT GETTING FRAPPES FOR YOU!” Mya always knew what to say. I darted to the front seat and awaited my frappe. The drive seemed to take forever. So I stared out the window and tried to sleep. “Hey, I know you don’t get much sleep but get up. I have some bad news.” Mya said.