• As soon as I stepped onto the porch of our almost ancient house, I could feel the sun beating down onto my pale skin. I'm not tan or anything, just peach. No, lighter than that, but not so white that I look like a vampire. I look around, keeping my eye on the tree that overshadows my mom's crappy white Chevy Caviler convertible. It's black top is down, meaning that air will circulate as we drive. Okay, it's not THAT bad. It just rides ruff and has some rust around the tires. It's too old for me.
    My mother walks out behind me, giving me a little shove because my sister pushed her. I've only been outside, and in shade, mind you, for less than five minutes and I'm already sweating. Gulping a drink of water from my clear, generic brand water bottle. The water has been refilled with that nasty drinking water you get at the store, but hey, it's water. can't complain, right?
    There are four steps down out porch, the step off the wooden walkway and three cement steps. With those conquered, I walk down the sidewalk until I reach the little ledge where out property meets public property and get into the automobile, careful not to touch anything black, knowing that it would singe my fingers. Okay, so it's not really that hot out here... Maybe around 95 degrees? Humidity is high, so by now, I am sweating like an overgrown hog. Can hogs ever be overgrown? Huh. I don't know.
    Anyways, as my mother boards the driver's seat, I push up the passenger's seat and squeeze into the little area called a back seat. There's not much room, and my sister is quite bigger than me, so I have to sit in back. Mom brings the engine to life by inserting the key into the ignition and we're off. We live on a dead end, so we had to back up then turn around and head down the street.
    I know, it's complicated.
    I'm slightly depressed because my sister is being her usual bratty self and mom is having a rough time because of both the surgeries she's had in the last month. Mom is doing much better, now, than the first week of her second emergency surgery. She can actually sit now, which is improvement. Actually, she's almost back to normal. Which is good.
    We drive down one of the main streets in our city. We're headed to the library, but make a pit stop to a gas station nearby. While my sibling goes into the store, my mom and I sit out in the car, sweating up a storm. If my sister had stayed in the store any longer, Mom would be fried and I'd have enough sweat to make it rain.
    As we leave, I stick in my ear buds and listen to one of my favorite bands, Disturbed. I think, then, about why I'm so upset. It's not really because of my mom and sister, I realized. It's because I'm alone. All alone. The man I love has gone away for the summer to Basic Training for the military. Oh, how I miss him... I cried really hard last night and did something I'd never done before. After I'd finished reading my book for the night, I looked at the clock, which read 12:24 am. I crept downstairs and talked to my mom. For the first time in a really, really long time, I cried harder than ever.
    I miss him; I really do. It's hard to do this without him, you know, fighting with my family and not having him there to comfort me or tell me to "grow up". Sometimes I guess I depend on him for quite a few things. But that's okay, right? I love him, and I know he loves me. But I know I'll have to wait until he returns.
    I hope I can last that long.