Royally Damned

KENJI RUSHTON

When I got home on my seventeenth birthday, I was feeling a little lugubrious. It was all because of the fact that I’m getting closer to getting kicked out of the house. The initial thought that I had in mind when I saw my mom was that she was about to let me hear it again for god knows how many times already. All my life, my mother couldn’t stop relentlessly expressing how she wanted me out of the house, just like she did with my older brother. The constant attack coming from the person who brought me into this world gradually made me believe that my life wasn’t worth living for.

"Where in the world have you been, Kenji?" My mother inquired, looking rather pissed that I came home late. Had she already forgotten that I also have a part-time job of my own? Or perhaps she just doesn’t care that I’m trying to help around the house.

"We had overtime at the restaurant," I replied. I would’ve told her every single detail of what happened at the restaurant, including how my friends surprised me for my birthday, but I feel like she won’t even listen to me.

"Mhmm? Tell that to a deaf person," she spat out, refusing to believe what I just told her.

Before my mom could even continue what she was about to say towards me, my sister Meredith just cursed out of the blue. "This pancake tastes like it came straight out of the toilet." She just turned fifteen a few months ago, and life’s seemingly catching up way too fast for her. Apparently, she just entered her teenage rebel era. "Why are we even eating pancakes for dinner? Ugh!" The sound of blatant disgust and annoyance reverberated throughout her tone.

"Shhhh, quit complaining, Meredith. You know we are on a tight budget right now, and I would appreciate it if you just shoved that pancake in your mouth. Be thankful that I’m still feeding all of you," my mom said, pointing a spatula right onto her face. "You kids are ungrateful pieces of sh—."

Then Mom was cut off once again. "Ugh, move over, Michaela! You are taking up my space!" Maeve complained, ruthlessly pushing her sister over the edge. My sisters Maeve and Michaela are usually the catty type of girls in the house. At the ages of twelve and thirteen, all they knew was to fight each other for everything. At this point, I won’t even be surprised if one day they end up fighting over a guy. The two eventually ended up pulling each other’s hair, which ultimately caught Mom’s utmost attention.

"Ugh! My head is about to explode!" Mom grabbed two knives and handed them over to Maeve and Michaela. "Here you go! Gut each other out and let's see who comes up on top."

Letting go of each other’s hair, the two girls suddenly paused in utter silence.

"I know that’s right," Mom breathed out. "You two girls, if you don’t quit pulling each other’s hair, I’mma be the one to chop them off of that thing you call your heads!"

I looked around the space, and yes, it was a total ruckus, just as I expected. Having three little sisters and a single little brother left and each of us having a different father was probably one of the worst things in the entire world. The only thing that we have in common is our eyes, which we all got from our mother, but that’s just about it.

I looked around the space, and yes, it was a total ruckus, just as I expected. Having three little sisters and a single little brother left and each of us having a different father was probably one of the worst things in the entire world. The only thing that we have in common is our eyes, which we all got from our mother, but that’s just about it.

Living in this two-bedroom apartment shouldn’t be a problem, but having many rowdy kids in a living room slash kitchen could really get exasperating. Not only do you not necessarily have much room for privacy, but you are also constantly dealing with loud noise, fighting over something, and complaining about certain things. This was the regular story of my life, and honestly, I’ve had it. I just wanted a quick break from all of these shenanigans, except that taking a break is such luxurious sh*t that I can’t afford it. Thankfully, I still have my youngest brother, Kalix, who’s the sweetest of them all. He’s the only one in this house who’s been keeping my sanity together. Speaking of Kalix, I haven’t seen him yet. Maybe he’s playing with his paper airplane in our bedroom.

You are probably wondering, What’s my situation? It’s a little bit complicated, but not really that complicated. I have been stuck in this shitty household for the entirety of my seventeen years, along with my single mother and my siblings. I used to have an older brother, but my mom had already kicked him out of the house the day he turned eighteen, just like she was planning to do with me. You see, having a single mother who doesn’t have a solid job and four other unruly siblings really brings out the hell out of everything. The small amount of money that I earn from waiting tables and playing a dumb star mascot at a two-star restaurant only goes out for a box of medium pizza and a small box of chicken wings, just enough to get us through dinner. If I get lucky enough to get a larger tip, it only goes for school stuff. I can’t even buy a little something for myself.

I went inside my bedroom, which I share with my little brother Kalix, and sat on my bed. Today’s my birthday, and not even one person in this household has ever remembered anything. Although I’m not surprised about that, I still feel forgotten in a way. Then I began contemplating how the place would become a little emptier once I was out of the house. Kalix would be lonely without me.

One year, that’s it. I only have one year left on the clock before my mom kicks me out of this claustrophobic abode that I’ve been living in for seventeen hellish years. It almost feels like I have some sort of terminal cancer, and sometimes I do wish that I had a terminal cancer. The repugnant thought of getting thrown out into the real world was extremely traumatizing for me, mostly because I already have an idea of what’s truly out there. It’s riddled with unbridled madness, revolting injustice, so much privilege for the rich and powerful, and so much more. I have since witnessed how cruel the outside world is from my very own mother’s experience. She got pregnant at such an early age that it ultimately forced her to drop out of high school and eventually cost her every single opportunity she could’ve had for a better life. Immediately after giving birth, my mother, having no real talent at her disposal, was forced to walk the streets for easy money. In other words, she became a hooker.

Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I really do think of running away from home, thinking it would solve all of the problems. It would be a better move than waiting to turn eighteen just to get officially evicted. Running away would probably bring a bit of relief for my already exhausted mother. Not only that, she’s got one less mouth to feed, but she'll also be on her way to redirect the same relentless negative energy onto the next person in line for the next few years until she has already kicked all of us out. However, each time I try to grab the chance to run away, I always end up thinking of my siblings and how hungry they would get, especially if my mom doesn’t come home for a few days. I’d be the greediest person, for sure.

When I finally brought myself towards the kitchen, it was a total cacophony, though it’s nothing that I’m used to. All of my siblings are busy doing their sh*t.

"Happy birthday, Kenji!" Kalix approached me with a plate of pancakes in hand and a bright smile on his face. He’s still six, and I was quite astonished at how he even remembered my birthday when the rest of the people inside the house don’t even care about it.

"Awww!!! Thank you, Kalix!" I cooed, rubbing his hair. "Who’s face is that?" I asked, pointing over at the face that’s carved out of the pancake.

"It’s yours!"

Grabbing the plate from his tiny hands, I knew I had to be grateful that my youngest brother took the initiative to bring me something special for my birthday. It put a certain smile on my face. "Me? That’s so sweet of you. Thank you."

"Would you like to make a wish?" he asked.

"No, it’s okay."

"Please? I still have my candle from my last birthday." Kalix pleaded; the look painted on his cute baby face just made things unbearable for me. He brought out the one tiny candle that I remember buying for his last birthday, and he quickly planted it right in the middle of the pancake.

"Alright, but first we have to light it up."

I reached out for the lighter above the old fridge that’s been here ever since I was born before eventually lighting up the candle, much to Kalix’s delight. Kalix squealed mirthfully, like a child excited to play with his newly bought toy car. He was even more excited than I am. The truth is, I just envy the innocence that he has.

"Close your eyes, Ken!" Kalix added.

I took a heavy sigh, denoting the fact that my youngest brother successfully got me into doing this stuff. I closed my eyes obediently, following my younger brother’s request—to make a damn wish.

There are two things that I hate in this world: birthdays and making wishes on birthdays. I just think there’s nothing special about birthdays, especially when you’re forced to live like a rat in this cruel world. Birthdays are just a social construct designed to force you to get old, and for some people like me, the older you get, the closer you get to getting thrown out of the place you’ve been calling home.

I closed my eyes and began thinking of something I wanted to do. I have a quite long list of things I want to do, but I chose to pick what’s at the top of my list. My thoughts began to drift to a place I hadn’t been—the palace. I haven’t been to the palace before in my life. I have only seen the place through photographs, and sometimes I could only see it through my imagination, of course. Ever since I was young, I have been wondering what it’s like to live in such a grandiose place, to eat waffles, bagels, and pork sausage, and to sip some fresh tea for breakfast. I’m quite intrigued by what it tastes like to eat lamb, beef, or even turkey for dinner, and maybe some crazy sweet shit for a midnight snack. I wondered what it’s like to wake up in the morning without the constant bickering of my siblings or the unrelenting bullying that my mom does. I wondered what it was like to be rich.

I wish to see the palace. That’s it; that’s my wish; it’s the only wish I think would come true. You see, I’m not the most ambitious kind of person, so wishing to be rich is not really my thing, for I’m aware of the fact that it’s far from my reach. You must’ve been the hardest-working horse in the stable, and even then, most of the hard-working horses aren’t even rich enough.

I opened my eyes and gently blew on the candle before a cloud of smoke formed and eventually faded into nothingness.

"What did you wish?" Kalix inquired.

"I’m not going to tell you." I shook my head teasingly.

"Why not?

"Because if I tell you, it won’t come true."

"That’s bulls—"

"Okay, okay. I’m going to tell you." I trailed off before Kalix formed the curse word he was just about to spit at me. He’s way too young to be cursing people out like that.

"I wished for good health among all of us, and world peace, of course." I spat it out just for Kalix’s satisfaction.

Meredith was right; dinner wasn’t ideal. We had pancakes and eggs for dinner, which was the cheapest thing we could afford on a tight budget. My mother’s been trying to save her earnings for the rent since we are two months behind. I do think she’s doing things right. It’s better to eat pancakes and eggs for dinner than to have no roof above our heads at all.

By the time the hands of the clock struck ten o’clock, everybody else was already fully asleep. My mom had already gone out for work, and I finally had the freedom to sneak out of the house. I was supposed to ignore the fact that it’s my birthday, but earlier at school, my friends had just guilt-tripped me into going out tonight. Apart from Kalix, my friends are the only ones who made efforts to greet me today. I initially rejected their invitation, but when they told me they’d pay for everything, it automatically made me feel excited and special. I thought at least there were a few people who actually cared about me, and I couldn’t just disappoint those people. Also, this is just the right time for me to live a little. I didn’t want to chain myself to my bed thinking about what’s going to happen to me once I turn eighteen.

I slipped on some nice clothes, and by nice, I meant just a simple white t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. I don’t have that many nice clothes since I couldn’t afford them, and if they’re not from my older brother, they came straight from the thrift shop. Then I slipped on the shoes that my older brother left for me since they were the only nice pair of shoes that I had before eventually sneaking out of the house.

KENJI RUSHTON

When I finally regrouped with my best friends, Anthony Cargill and Leona Fennid, they were already getting impatient. The three of us have been best friends ever since we found out that we are part of the lower class of society, and I guess the saying was true. Birds of the same feather flock together. The three of us have been flocking around together.

"Finally, the last dud showed up," Leona said just as I arrived. Leona Fennid was the only girl in our group, and she’s quite the tomboy. She thoroughly hated wearing pretty dresses; she doesn’t like styling and combing her hair, and even smudging make-up on her face was a big no for her. She says powder always makes her sneeze, and she sneezes really bad. "I thought you were going to ditch us."

"Nah, I couldn’t possibly do that. It’s my birthday, remember?" I replied, breathing rather heavily.

"Fancy a cigarette?" Anthony Cargill offered m