The Apple

"Today was... an interesting day..." I muttered to myself as I was nearing the front door of my house.

I finally reached the front door and pushed it open. I entered the house, took my shoes off, and walked toward the living room just to see my lazy mother laying on the couch, sleeping like someone who hasn't slept for years. Even worse, she snored like a screaming donkey.

I rolled my eyes and was about to walk toward my room until my dad called out.
"You're home? This early?"

I turned around and saw him standing there, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Early? What do you mean early? It's 3:20 PM."

He raised his eyebrows and checked his watch. "Oh yeah it is… my bad."

I rolled my eyes and turned around to walk toward my room until my dad called out yet again.
"There's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry. Your mother and I already ate."

I nodded. "Alright. I'll eat in a minute, I just gotta go do something."

He nodded before walking off.
I then entered my bedroom and threw my bag on the ground before looking at myself in the mirror.

"I look good, don't I?" I muttered to myself, fidgeting with my clothes a bit. "The hair's a bit off though..."

I pulled my hair back a bit, trying to fix it, but it just made it a little worse.

"Ugh screw this. I'll fix it later, I just came from school either way!"

I walked toward the kitchen, where I took the leftovers from the fridge. It was katsudon, and damn I loved it. It was like one of my favorite foods. Either way, I tossed the plate in the microwave and waited till it was done. Finally, the microwave made a soft "DING" noise and I opened it, took my plate of uruchimai, and sat down to eat.

Normally in front of my parents I took small bites because I was scared what they'd say when I ate like crazy, but today I was alone at the dinner table so I went crazy, taking big bites and eating non-stop.

A voice could then be heard nearby. "You eat like a damn pig, slow down!"

I looked up and saw my mom.
She always found a way to insult the hell out of me no matter what — she would roast me for no reason and I fucking hated it.
For example just last week before on a morning before school, I tried on a new skirt I bought and she walked in on me. She gave my skirt a good look and told me it looked absolutely horrendous and that it doesn't fit, and then she had the audacity to slam the door when leaving...

"Ugh, not my fault I'm hungry, Mom," I said, annoyed, almost raising my voice.

She looked at me and gave me a death stare. "Don't raise your voice at me!"

"W-WHA— I DIDN'T EVEN—"

Before I could finish my sentence, my dad burst into the kitchen, holding a whole freaking cookies and cream ice cream container.

"What's the ruckus in here? Chillax girls, no yelling!" he said while taking a bite of the ice cream.

"Fuck off, Kenji, this doesn't concern you. I am having a discussion with our daughter."

They kept talking back and forth, and while they did that, I looked closer at the ice cream. I realized that it was the EXACT ice cream that I had bought with my money. Money that I found on the street one random day. Yeah, I kept it for myself, so what?

Did that idiot really take MY ICE CREAM???

"Dad... is that my cookies and cream ice cream you're eating?" I interrupted, having a visibly annoyed look on my face.

He stopped talking and looked closer at the container. "Yeah? So what? I was craving something sweet. I checked the freezer and noticed this laying there."

I scoffed and shook my head. "I paid for that, you know? Paid with MY MONEY?!"

"Don't worry, I'll pay you back. Don't bitch about it." he said as he continued to take more bites of the ice cream.

He then raised his eyebrow and looked at me, "Wait where'd you get money from anyway? You don't have a job."

I sighed heavily and continued eating, ignoring my father's question. He just scoffed at me and went back to eating his stupid ice cream as well.

All of us went quiet for a short period of time while my mom went to make coffee for herself. She was a coffee addict, drinking multiple cups a day.

My dad then opened the fridge and saw an apple, instantly snatching it.
"What a fresh-looking apple," he muttered.

My mom, who was still making coffee, noticed my dad taking the apple and she instantly stopped.
"What do you think you're doing, Kenji?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean? I'm getting an apple..."

"No you're not. That's my apple, not yours."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Yukina. This apple has been here for days being untouched. It's gonna rot if you don't eat this thing soon."

Her face was getting visibly angrier. "Put. It. Back!"

He then began teasing her. "Nope, it's mine now since you obviously don't want it, sweetheart."

"Last warning..."

I looked at both of them and found the situation pretty stupid but amusing at the same time.

They can't be serious...

"Why are you guys arguing about an apple?" I said, holding in my laughter as much as I could.

My mom looked at me with another death stare... typical.
"Stay out of this!"

She then turned back to my dad. "You've already got your stupid ice cream, what the hell do you need the apple for?"

He shrugged. "Apple and ice cream is a good combo, what can I say?"

That's when I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore. I burst out laughing and spoke up.
"HAHAHAHA. Y-y-you cannot be serious, Dad. Apple and ice cream, good combo? What the hell?"

He looked at me with a tired and annoyed face. "Yes it is. At least that's what I think..."

My mom snatched the apple from him, and my dad instantly complained and tried to snatch it back.
"You idiot, give that back!"

"No, it is mine and you know it!" she yelled back.

The situation was now beginning to turn into a heated argument and I just sat there, eating my food and watching in amusement.

Stupid idiots, I swear to God...

I finally finished my food and walked toward my room. Meanwhile, my parents were still arguing about that stupid apple. As I entered my room, I took a seat at my desk and brought out a pencil and my diary. Yes, I had a diary.

I then began writing—