Friday Evening.
“But mom, for once I'd like something new. I don't want anything from a thrift store. People are going to notice a Calvin Klein knock off!”
She doesn't say anything, just looks at me with anger and disgust. I meet her with the same look, trying to muster all my rage into it. As the youngest child and going to middle school, there's not much you can do to about getting new things. A) No one is willing to give u enough money to spend it for yourself and b) you always get ‘hand me downs’ from your older siblings – it’s like this generational curse. The only difference is that my brother completely harassed his old winter coat and now we’re shopping at a thrift store to get a ‘new’ one. It’s basically the same thing, only I’m getting ‘hand me downs’ from a complete stranger.
We’re getting my Calvin Klein winter coat knock off today, so mom went outside to plough the snow off the car and warm it up. I want to go upstairs to my bedroom and stay there for ever till I die, than suffer the magnitude of embarrassment that I will surely face at school. Before I could make my decision, a beep interrupts my thoughts. Ugh, my mom is very annoying. She beeps a couple more times and I grunt in frustration.
“Fine, I give up!” I yell, even though she can’t hear me.
Running outside in the snow to get to the car, I remember that I had not washed my face nor brushed my teeth. I convince myself that I don’t care if my hair looks messy and my eyes puffy, from crying over this stupid coat. I. REALLY. DON’T. CARE. It’s not like anyone from school will be there. Everyone else shops at the mall like normal people.
There’s a weird tension on the way to the thrift store. It’s almost suffocating. I try to sit as still as possible, because any movement will just make this more awkward. A few minutes later and we've arrived at the store.
As we enter the store, I am struck by the musty atmosphere and there's not a soul in the store. No surprise there. I try to find the Calvin Klein knock offs but they're not here. Believe it or not, I start panicking.
“Where are they?!” I yell frantically searching all the bins and amounting to nothing.
Mom asks the store clerk about the Calvin Klein coat and she responds that they're all out of stock. The only coats left are for older men with walking sticks and dentures for teeth. Are you kidding me? The Calvin Klein knock off has become more appealing than this unfortunate predicament I am now faced with.
Mom asks the store clerk to show us the coats they have left and she returns with two huge jackets that could swallow me up more than 10 times. I look at mom incredulously, hoping that we're on the same page, but when she meets my eyes I don’t see the same thing. Mom looks at me with boredom and impatience asking me,
“Well, which one do you want?”
For a moment I feel like I blanked out and the world went fuzzy. I cannot believe that my mother wants me to buy an old man's winter coat. My life is over. My eyes start to sting me and my head hurt, as I try to suppress my tears. I hate crying in front of people and I refuse to shed anymore tears today. When I couldn't come up with an answer my mom chose the lumber jacket styled winter coat with a big black belt in the waist. The inside had a layer of white wool for extra warmth. Let's not forget the oversized pockets in the front that look like you could fit a 10” wrench in them.
The last few moments had felt like a blur. We’ve reached home and I can't seem to recall entering the car. As I walk to my bedroom searching for the comfort of my books and my Michael Bolton posters, I am blinded by the pounding of my head. I throw myself on my bed with the hopes of going to sleep and waking up to find that this was all a dream.
7:30 am. Saturday Morning.
Tomorrow comes and I realise that the events of yesterday were in fact entirely true. The prospect of facing my mom makes me want to stay in bed all day but I get up with what little strength left in me and join her for breakfast. When I enter the kitchen, breakfast was ready and waiting with a note on the counter. Mom had gone to work and left an omelette for me. She never places a lot of effort in making breakfast, she must be trying to make up for the old winter coat situation.
The omelette is cooked with ham and cheese, minus the onions and sweet peppers - just the way I like it. I walk over to the small round glass table in the corner beside the refrigerator, and assume my position at the table. As I chew the omelette, I think back to the events of yesterday, experiencing the same dread and embarrassment I had felt every moment. I wonder where mom put that coat?
As soon as I had finished eating my breakfast, I went in search of the ugly old coat. Something had compelled me to look for it. Maybe I just want to confirm that I really have to wear a jacket that was designed for retirees. Off I go on my delirious quest.
I decided to begin by searching the rooms upstairs. After a few minutes, nothing. So I went to the ground floor, still nothing. The basement also had nothing. Agony is the best word to describe how I am feeling – not frustration or annoyance, agony. This is the feeling of extreme physical or mental suffering.
Making my way to the staircase, something catches the corner of my eye. Unbelievable. The coat was hanging on the coat rack in plain sight. It takes me a while to come to terms with this discovery. When I remove it from the rack I notice that it is extremely heavy and my hands strain to hold it up.
“How am I going to be able to wear something so heavy and carry my backpack at the same time?” I wondered aloud. It will certainly be a task.
Pss. Psss. Psss. Whispers? Pss. Psss. Psss. I froze to the spot. My imagination has begun to fathom every bad thing that these whispers could mean. Someone may be in the house with me, or maybe it's more than one and they're having a conversation about their next move. My heartbeat quickens and the extra blood flows to my head producing a massive headache.
“Who’s there?” I ask in a nearly inaudible voice. I doubt if whoever's in the house would’ve heard me, even over a pin drop.
I try to devise a quick escape route taking note of the emergency exits in the house and then I remember, I’m standing right in front of the entrance to the house. Before I run outside and plunge myself into the cold, I am also reminded by the fact that it’s snowing cats and dogs. Yes, cats and dogs. I arm myself with this coat that weighs a ton and run out the front door.
It’s freezing outside without the other winter accessories, a pair of gloves and a tam. I make a feeble attempt at warming my hands and stuff them in my pocket and before I can take a step forward, the world disappears and all of a sudden people that weren’t beside me a few seconds ago are now standing there gazing at me in shock.
“Can you see us?” one of them asks.
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