The week passed and (not too soon) it was the weekend. I always voluntarily forget to set my alarm on Saturday mornings to try and catch up on some sleep, and sleep I did. I woke up around noon to joyful chatter coming from the kitchen. I could hear the fridge opening and closing every now and then, the stove counter top was beeping loudly and the smell was making my tummy grumble.
Lunch time.

I threw my covers off of me and trudged to my bathroom, after washing my face I made my way upstairs just in time to be asked to set the table. Ugh well, at least I don't have to make the food I guess. I start putting down plates while Michael, my brother, places forks and knives next to each.

That's one thing my parents have always been very strict about: Family meals. At least once a day they insist that we should all sit together and talk about whatever. Family bonding, yay.
I kind of hate it. I never have anything to talk about and I couldn't care less about stuff like what went on at work this week or the weather announcements. But I really don't have a choice, so today, as usual, I sit down and try and enjoy the food.

"Oh for gods sakes Alex, you could at least put on a shirt while we eat, is that too much to ask? Does no one in this family have decent manners or did we leave those back home?" Home? I thought when we moved here she said we were supposed to consider this as our 'home', I guess she never really got used to it either.

I shrug but don't make any effort to stand up and get a shirt, who cares if I'm not wearing a stupid shirt? It's like super warm in here. She looks at me disapprovingly but her mind seems elsewhere. Did I miss something here or...?

"Hey honey" my dad turns his attention towards my mom, "when I went to get the mail this morning I noticed that our neighbors, two houses down, finally managed to sell!" We could tell he was excited about these news, wow, big change everyone! We are going to have new neighbors. Big fucking deal. I couldn't care less.

"Well, let's just hope they're nice respectable folks and not some party crazed teenagers. Just the other day I was talking to Leann, oh yay, the gossip queen, aka my aunt., and she said that she can barely sleep at night anymore because of the noise!"

"Well mom, she does live in the city, I mean, what did she expect?". This comment suddenly gets all eyes on me. Or rather a few eye rolls in my direction. Whatever, it's trueee.

"Anyways, my dad carried on, how's school been? I heard you got in trouble with some kid, should I be worried?"

"No. It's taken care of. You don't need to worry about it." My answer is almost robotic, but it's enough for the conversation to drift to a new topic.

There's sort of an awkward silence before Mike breaks it by clearing his throat. "So, I was thinking..." Well that's new... "Maybe I could go back home sometimes soon, ya know, just to visit some old friends and maybe see if I could find an apartment and job or something..."

Uh oh. Even though he said it so casually I can tell that the whole room is about to blow up. The move has always been kind of a touchy subject in our house, especially with our mom.What the hell is he trying to do? Is he just trying to get a reaction out of them? Because I'm pretty sure that was gonna work.

"Michael," my mom said, almost in a whisper. "We've talked about this, and moving here was what seemed best to your father and I."

"But mom, it not fair!" His tone had escalated quite a bit in such a short time. "No one even wanted to leave and you know it! It's all because of dad's stupid job that now were stuck in this stupid country and I want to go back home. Our real home, back in England!" By the time he finished talking he was practically shouting.

This time it was my dad's turn to speak up."Do you know how hard it was for us to make this decision? We wouldn't have done it if we didn't think it was the best thing to do. Now, you are going to respect our better judgment and deal with it. And that's final." Mike looked furious, but I could tell he was holding back tears.

He was right though, I hated living here, everything was so different. Back home, I actually had plenty of friends. I was accepted and popular. Over here I was a nobody. Often enough I would cry myself to sleep, thinking back on my childhood, and how happy I was compared to now. This place never felt like home. My heart was still in Essex.

The rest of the meal carried on in silence. No one was brave enough to say anything at all but the tension definitely cut like a knife. I hurried up and placed my plate in the sink before heading back down to my room, my own private dungeon. Flipping on my tv, I started playing some video games, anything to keep my mind off of things.

After a dozen tries I gave up on beating my opponents and took out my notebook, I started writing whatever came to mind about how I was so tired with all this stupid fighting. About how much I wished I had had a say in the decision to move. But no. I was just a kid and no one cared if I didn't want to leave behind everything I knew.

I thought back about how everyone went silent after the talk during lunch. Why couldn't we ever just talk calmly about these things? I started writing different things, different ideas and doodles, almost turning into a poem but not quite
.
- Shut your mouth and listen closely,
this silence isn't easy
So I'll break it, wait and see. -

- Back home I was a hero
In this nation I'm a zero. -

I kept crossing out whatever I wrote, for some reason it just never sounded right. I figure if I think of anything good then I'll just come back to it later...

Notes

A/N (The sorta poem exerts are actually lyrics that I changed up a bit to make it look like a rough sketch, the first one is from Last Flight Home- from the album The Three Words To Remember In Dealing With The End, and the second is the title of Hometown Heroes; National Nobodies - from the album The Party Scene. So yeah, I don't own it.)