"Ya nevah home."
I have to make something out of myself. I don't want to grow up and be like you. I don't want this life anymore. There's nothing glamorous about it.
It was what she had wanted to say to her mother as she once again berated her over her choice to never be home. Instead, she had answered simply with, "Of course not. I have to work. I have to go to school." She didn't doubt her mother knew the real truth behind her statements. Her mom never finished college. She dropped out after she got pregnant with TJ and decided it was better to move on in with her father. He had promised to take care of her and the baby, and she had believed him. Now, the man full of promises was sitting in jail. TJ was dead, been dead for almost two years now. Her youngest child, Chris, now desired to follow in the footsteps of his father and brother because it was honorable. As for Autumn? She couldn't stand how her mother allowed herself to live such a life. She didn't understand how her mother had settled. Her father was in jail now; there had been multiple chances for her to move her two kids away from the poisonous atmosphere. There had been a chance for a new life, but no. Familarity was the biggest reason why they had stayed put.
So when she complained about Autumn's constant absence, the only daughter could only stare coldly at her mother when she gave her the same answer time and time again. Because Autumn had figured out a long time ago, her mother wasn't going to give her a better life. If she wanted out of the slums, she had to get herself out of the slums.
It was hard work. It took dedication. It was beating her down.
Her head rested on top of her folded arms, which were propped up by her books. Her eyes fluttered opened, vision blurry instantly. It was almost too easy to close them again. Way too easy. Instead, she pulled her right arm out from underneath her head and balled her fist, rubbing her eyes gently at first. Blinking once again, her vision cleared up a tad bit more. Soon, she was patting around on the table for her glasses. Those would help her eyes focus in on the scenery. Not that she really needed to, she knew where she was. It was her second home: the library of HRU. It was the first place she went to after she woke up in the morning. It was the first place she went to after she got out of work. The first place she went to after she got out of her classes. The last place she went to before she'd have to head out into the night.
And like any other night, she had came in after work to study. Her apron drooped over her backpack, which was slightly open and slung carelessly on the floor. Her brown eyes glanced down at the makeshift pile, eyeing it to see if she had dropped her glasses down there in favor of taking a much needed cat nap. But it wasn't there. Autumn reached out to retrieve her cell phone from the chair next to hers, clicking the middle button of the iPhone to check the time.
9:35 pm.
Thank God the library stayed open until 1 am just for those like her. Autumn sat up and stretched her arms above her head, groaning. It had been a good catnap but it was time to get back to work; it was always time to get back to work. She knew she should pick up her phone to tell her mom she wasn't going to come home until late. But what was the point? Out of habit, maybe? Out of respect, probably? Yet her fingers didn't make any effort to unlock her phone in order for her to perform this action. Instead, she set the phone aside, putting it back on the chair next to her. The eighteen year old scooted her seat closer to the elongated table, staring at her textbooks.
Math. God, she hated math and it hated her. It wasn't a subject she naturally excelled in; it was a subject she spent many nights studying over and over again until she felt comfortable enough to say she got it. Autumn bent her head down and rubbed her face, groaning. She heard something drop in front of her and moved her hands away from her eyes to see her glasses. Of course, it had been on her head. As always it had been the last place she would have checked.
"Come on, Autumn..." she whispered softly, picking up her pencil before tapping it on the paper pad. If she wanted to make it out of the slums, she had to pass math.