Hi. I’m Paige. Paige Evergreen, to be exact. I’m a 14-year-old product of an overworking attorney and an underpaid real estate agent. If asked to physically describe myself I could sum it up into one word: “cringy,” well, maybe that’s more my mother’s outlook on my appearance than my own. To me, it’s more “original”…maybe even, “unique?” Maybe.
I have long blonde hair that’s never maintained. In fact, it’s stringy, especially at the ends since I’m long overdue for a trim. I hide behind oversized bifocals, wear braces, and have the classic teenage “pizza face” of zits. My nails are bitten to the core and my legs are far too long for my torso. Every pair of pants fits me like floods lately and I’m too lazy to search for new “long” jeans. I usually pair my flood-pants with an oversized hoodie that gives little meaning to my personality, as I am a thrift store “hoodie-junkie.” The only solid attribute I have going for me, is my crystal blue eyes. Not sure where they came from. Mom and dad see dirt.
We live in an oversized colonial-style home in a gated suburban subdivision. There’s only three of us here, and a fluffy, yappy dog that literally only likes my mother. Most of my time is spent eating cheetos on my father’s way over-priced off-white sectional with something streaming on Netflix in the background. I never actually watch T.V, but that’s all I really do. Does that make sense? It’s on, and it’s playing…and I’m laying in front of it, but never comprehending it. Never giving it any attention. I’m usually either scrolling through social media, or literally daydreaming in this place I found that’s more like…gazing. I have come to literally self-reflect in a “zoned-out” frame of mind, without ever really accomplishing anything. Sometimes it worries me. Like, maybe I have something wrong with me and that’s why i’m always pondering nothing. Other times, I’m thankful that I found “something” to occupy my time. Mom always criticizes me and says I should join yoga, or find a hobby. But, what’s the point? I won’t make friends, I don’t need to lose weight, and I don’t really have any interests. At least not at this stage in my life. I’m sort of just….stuck.
“Family time” as dad calls it, doesn’t consist of much. He usually overpowers the hour with a high-strung courtroom story, or a lecture on how I need to start aiming for something in life. Mom then throws the cliche, “If you find something you love, it won’t feel like a chore to you,” a line that she says to convince herself that working 50+ hours a week is worth it. Really, though, I think she’s just trying to get away from my father. But, I don’t want to get into their marital issues. I usually just nod, force a smile, and try to act interested. Lately though, I just struggle with wanting to even communicate with them at all. I mean, sometimes I feel like I was adopted. Like I belong in a small cul de sac rancher in the middle of nowhere with a horse to ride, and siblings poke fun at. Maybe I was accidentally switched at birth. Or, maybe it wasn’t accidental at all.