Labelled by Blood

      Stepping inside, the lights were all turned off. I checked my phone for the time. It was only seven. Did they both have early shifts tomorrow? Whatever, they lived their own lives. I was starving and I survived today. In the kitchen, the faucet dripped. Was it leaking? I tried to tighten it and it kept going. I hoped my parents knew. I'd leave a note just in case. I got out a sheet of paper and wrote down a quick memo about it. I folded the note and signed it so they wouldn't freak and think someone broke in. I left it on the dining room table. They'd find it when they ate breakfast. Especially if they had early shifts.       I grabbed some waffles and popped them in the toaster. Usually it was strim recharge time, but I already did that. Instead, I grabbed my stapler and looked at it. Really looked at it. It was a small thing, kinda bulbous. It was a deep blue color on top with a black, almost gunmetal, colored base. The clamping mechanism was the same color as the base and the staples inside were blue. It was really pretty, even if it felt silly to have on hand every hour of every day. The kitchen fluorescents gave it a dynamic outline and the gunmetal-black base had a glittery finish. The tiny sparkles almost twinkled to me.       I didn't know if it actually stapled, though. I never used it. At least I don't remember using it. But I also kind of didn't care? I had other staplers for that. And I didn't know if using a staple would use up a bullet. That wasn't worth testing when I can staple anywhere else without risking a thing. My biggest issue was just where to keep it. I originally kept it in my bag. Until someone stole it from me. I was twelve when it happened. Some girl was jealous and snuck into my locker during lunch time. Thankfully our teacher reviewed camera footage and caught her red-handed; she bawled, but it served her right.       After that, I kept it on my person. Knowing someone could take it and then do God knows with it was enough to freak me out for good. Especially since I knew I'm not the only one with a vestige. But while others had pretty easy-to-defend ones, like a necklace or wristwatch, I had a stumpy stapler. My belt loop was the easiest spot to hide it because pockets were just okay. Sitting down was uncomfortable in a back pocket, but there was the problem of boy jeans versus girl jeans. Pockets should always be functional, but sometimes I wanted to wear a certain pair of jeans or a skirt or dress. Without pockets, it was impossible. But belt loops were a little more common. At the very least, I could add them without much issue. Pockets were a lot harder and if something slipped out, I might not always clock it instantly. Plus, if I made my own pockets, I'd never know how trustworthy they were until it was too late.       The toaster ejected my waffles, my thoughts with them. I let them cool for a second before inhaling them whole. It wasn't enough tonight, but I also didn't want to make more noise than I needed. I sat in the living room and looked around. The light from the kitchen poured in and gave a dim light, just enough to see almost everything in the living room. I eyed the spot on the chimney where the strim box used to live at. No one's mentioned it, so I guess they just didn't care enough to worry. I walked up to the bookshelf along one of the walls and looked at our collection. We could easily open up as a library. My eyes scanned the shelves one at a time and I was brought back to when I was a kid; books just found their way to my lap, and I was never not reading. Nowadays, I didn't have the time to read. Instead, I was training, having fun with friends, and worrying about my expiration date. Normal teen stuff.       I noticed a book that had a bright yellow spine. It was high up on the shelf and out of my reach, but it looked like some kind of "how to" guide for "non-intellectuals." I didn't know my parents read those. What could they possibly need to know that they couldn't just find online? There were literally manuals for anything you could ask for. Maybe not for some things, I guess. Like how to really be a good friend. Or how to find peace of mind with being different. You'd probably want a book for a quality guide.       I left the living room and turned off the kitchen lights before making my way to my room to grab a set of jammies and then to the bathroom to brush my teeth and rinse off today's grime. As I let the water pour over me, that creep from the gym came to mind. And, y'know what? Screw him. I didn't care about what happened. If I saw him again, I'd give him a piece of my mind. Tell him how to properly address people. Didn't matter if he thought I looked cute or if he thought I was the ugliest thing alive.       I still shuddered at the memory. But it was a little less painful now. I didn't know why I froze. I wouldn't let that happen again.       Changing into my jammies, I headed back to my room. I wore shorts and a t-shirt tonight. Then I headed to my desk and admired the bouquet Jesse gave me. Some of the flowers looked a bit on the "stale" side and I got a little sad. They burned bright, but not long. They could coexist, but had no power to control themselves. They were at the whims of their environment.       I crawled into bed and Jesse and Parker both texted me. Parker had sent me a picture of the drawing he made. It made me smile all over again to look at it. Jesse had asked if I wanted to grab dinner Wednesday evening, after training. I never hearted a text so fast. Yes, Jesse. I'd love to.       I texted him back on if he had any preferences, and he told me he wasn't picky. I told him I was feeling guilty for having picked out the last date we had. He said he didn't mind. Fine, I'd find something soon. I wished him goodnight and then got started on homework for the night. I finished it almost instantly. None of it was hard, and a lot of it was just a test on how much tedium you could endure. I guess I could endure quite a bit.       Thinking of homework reminded me of those jerkwads in Stein's class. I half blew-up Jesse's phone about them. He assured me he had no idea who I was talking about and that he never sent anyone the homework. Jesse said, "I wouldn't do that to you."       Integrity makes the man. I put my phone to sleep and tried to follow. it took a little of tossing that eventually turned into sleep. I was out and greeted with a void that didn't stare back for once.