Read Online Girl on the Other Side by Deborah Kerbel - Free Book Online
Authors: Deborah Kerbel
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to help. And a big part of me wanted so badly to let her â just tell her all my troubles right then and there. But another part of me â the stronger part â was still too scared.
So I just shook my head and stared at my shoes.
âPlease, Lora, if thereâs anything you want to tell me â¦â
âNo, Iâm fine,â Iâd said, keeping my head down so she wouldnât see the truth in my eyes. I heard Miss Wall sigh.
âAll right, Lora. You can go now.â
And just like that, my chance was gone.
On the other side of the house, the rhythmic sound of Chelseaâs snoring buzzes through the thin walls. My little sister is louder than all the animals combined. She snores so loudly it makes my bed vibrate. And she isnât even in the same room as me. Weâve had her checked out twice by Dr. McMullon, but even he couldnât figure out how or why a five-year-old child would be snoring like an overweight middle-aged man. The snoring freaks out all the animals, so they all have to sleep in my room. Thank God her snoring doesnât seem to bother Cody or he would want to sleep in my room, too. As it is, thereâs barely any room left to breathe in here.
Since thereâs no place for a proper bookcase, the floor next to our dresser is piled up high with books by all my favourite authors: Shakespeare, Hemingway, Steinbeck, the two Margarets (Atwood and Laurence), Rowling, and Dickens, of course ⦠his writing about kids in workhouses really strikes a chord with me. I treasure my books and would rather keep them in the closet where theyâre less likely to get stepped on, but thereâs no room in there, either. Itâs so crammed with clutter and junk that thereâs barely enough room for our clothes â which isnât such a bad thing because most of them are dirty, anyway. The laundry bin at the foot of our bed is an overflowing volcano of stinky clothes; a malodorous reminder of all the housework Iâve fallen behind on.
Trying to muffle Chelseaâs snoring, I turn over in my bed and pull my comforter up over my ears. I can feel eyes on me and I know Frank is still staring.
Allie turns around and mumbles something in her sleep. I can hear her breathing, deep and slow. I turn my head to look at her. Her coppery curls are messy and damp with night sweat. Reaching my hand out across the bed we share, I brush her bangs gently out of her face.
When theyâre quiet and sleeping, itâs so much easier to love these little guys. Sometimes I feel like Iâm their real mother. And, even though we all know Mommy is nearby, I think they feel the same way about me. Thank God, so far none of them have had an issue with bullies. Allieâs in grade two now and there hasnât been even a hint of trouble. I donât know what Iâd do if any of them had to deal with problems like mine.
Her little arm flops across my shoulder as she tosses onto her back. I hear her sigh in her sleep like sheâs having a nice dream. I turn and look at the clock.
1:03 a.m.
I think about all the things other kids my age might be doing right now. Staying out late with friends, talking on the phone, going to parties, hosting sleepovers, having fun, smiling and laughing ⦠not a care in the world. And a piranha like Tabby Freeman? Would she be sneaking out with one of the pit bulls? Probably. For me, the idea of dating is a foreign concept. And the thought of having a boyfriend is completely inconceivable. Even if I had time for one, every boy at my school is an enemy. And every girl, too, for that matter.
There are times when I wish more than anything I could do normal, teenaged things like other kids. But I know thatâs never going to happen. Even if I had friends, I canât have them over to my house. Mommy needs it to be quiet here so she can rest. And anyway, what would I do with my little brother and sisters if a friend ever wanted to come
So I just shook my head and stared at my shoes.
âPlease, Lora, if thereâs anything you want to tell me â¦â
âNo, Iâm fine,â Iâd said, keeping my head down so she wouldnât see the truth in my eyes. I heard Miss Wall sigh.
âAll right, Lora. You can go now.â
And just like that, my chance was gone.
On the other side of the house, the rhythmic sound of Chelseaâs snoring buzzes through the thin walls. My little sister is louder than all the animals combined. She snores so loudly it makes my bed vibrate. And she isnât even in the same room as me. Weâve had her checked out twice by Dr. McMullon, but even he couldnât figure out how or why a five-year-old child would be snoring like an overweight middle-aged man. The snoring freaks out all the animals, so they all have to sleep in my room. Thank God her snoring doesnât seem to bother Cody or he would want to sleep in my room, too. As it is, thereâs barely any room left to breathe in here.
Since thereâs no place for a proper bookcase, the floor next to our dresser is piled up high with books by all my favourite authors: Shakespeare, Hemingway, Steinbeck, the two Margarets (Atwood and Laurence), Rowling, and Dickens, of course ⦠his writing about kids in workhouses really strikes a chord with me. I treasure my books and would rather keep them in the closet where theyâre less likely to get stepped on, but thereâs no room in there, either. Itâs so crammed with clutter and junk that thereâs barely enough room for our clothes â which isnât such a bad thing because most of them are dirty, anyway. The laundry bin at the foot of our bed is an overflowing volcano of stinky clothes; a malodorous reminder of all the housework Iâve fallen behind on.
Trying to muffle Chelseaâs snoring, I turn over in my bed and pull my comforter up over my ears. I can feel eyes on me and I know Frank is still staring.
Allie turns around and mumbles something in her sleep. I can hear her breathing, deep and slow. I turn my head to look at her. Her coppery curls are messy and damp with night sweat. Reaching my hand out across the bed we share, I brush her bangs gently out of her face.
When theyâre quiet and sleeping, itâs so much easier to love these little guys. Sometimes I feel like Iâm their real mother. And, even though we all know Mommy is nearby, I think they feel the same way about me. Thank God, so far none of them have had an issue with bullies. Allieâs in grade two now and there hasnât been even a hint of trouble. I donât know what Iâd do if any of them had to deal with problems like mine.
Her little arm flops across my shoulder as she tosses onto her back. I hear her sigh in her sleep like sheâs having a nice dream. I turn and look at the clock.
1:03 a.m.
I think about all the things other kids my age might be doing right now. Staying out late with friends, talking on the phone, going to parties, hosting sleepovers, having fun, smiling and laughing ⦠not a care in the world. And a piranha like Tabby Freeman? Would she be sneaking out with one of the pit bulls? Probably. For me, the idea of dating is a foreign concept. And the thought of having a boyfriend is completely inconceivable. Even if I had time for one, every boy at my school is an enemy. And every girl, too, for that matter.
There are times when I wish more than anything I could do normal, teenaged things like other kids. But I know thatâs never going to happen. Even if I had friends, I canât have them over to my house. Mommy needs it to be quiet here so she can rest. And anyway, what would I do with my little brother and sisters if a friend ever wanted to come
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