I practically flew out of bed, yanking my draw-string bag from the floor in the process.
“Mom!” I yelled.
“Yes?” she answered. I jogged towards the sound of her voice, passing a few of my brothers and sisters on the way. Their expressions, carefully organized into differing masks of uninterest and boredom. I ignored them, as was usual. “Mom!” I was right outside her bedroom door.
“Who is it?”
“Hyacinth,” I replied. My mother was crazy. She felt that her first child needed to have a ‘special name,’ Hyacinth Angeline Bortacelli.
“Can I come in?”
“Go ahead.”
I went in not bothering to close the door behind me, the others needed to hear.
“What do you need…and why are you making that face?”
I had an uneven smile on my face and a sly look in my eye. I ignored her questions.
“Mom, I’m 18, I’m leaving.”
My eyes were wide, brows raised, uneven smile still there and head slightly cocked to the side. The expression that would convey the words ‘What now?’
“What?” she asked not expecting my words.