‘you never know what might happen’
Escaping the Truth of Ambra Kamiyama
Almost Always Misunderstood: Ambra
“AMBRA KAMIYAMA! BREAKFAST!” I sighed once again. My mum knew just how much I hate my name: Ambra. Additionally to that, I hate my full name; Ambra Kamiyama. I only ever love my name when either an Italiano person does, for example Mum. In Australia, the really annoying thing is that everyone says my name as if it’s no big deal and they say it so casually, I mean who likes it when someone says their name wrong, especially if someone says ‘bra.’ I’m not a bra. “AMBRA! DON’T MAKE ME COME UP TO YOUR ROOM!” Mum called to me once again, in her Italian accent. I double sighed, put my notebook on my bed and slowly and procrastinatingly, walked down the stairs.
“ Mum, why do you always call me by that name?” I asked when I reached down stairs. It had taken me at least seven minutes in my counting to get there.
“By what name?” replied Mum. It took her a couple of seconds to realise what I meant, “Ambra, it’s your name. You should love your name! You know your old best friend Elle had an unusual name, so did Anya, but they both still loved their names! I think your name sounds beautiful! You do know Dad helped me choose that name,” she added.
“Ughh, you chose that name for me! Of course you love it! I didn’t! And plus, don’t talk about Dad!” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, waiting uneasily for Mum to reply. Instead of speaking harshly, Mum’s tone softend.
“Sweety, you should love Dad. I know he doesn’t always have time for you but you should still love him all the way. Besides, he is your dad. “
“What’s for breakfast? Oh, and where’s Arabella and Adriano? Did they sleep in again?? Plus why did you give me the name Ambra? They have better names, for example Arabella is so common, and Adriano, like Adriano Zumbo, and some kids even call him that!”
Mum looked up from the bacon and eggs she was cooking. “Ambra! Don’t be so ungrateful!” she admonished.
“_Sorry_“ I muttered.
“Well, here you go. And Ambra, you’re starting to Grade Seven tomorrow!”
“Mum, can’t I change my name to Amy? Or Amber?”
“Amy? Amber? I guess Amber would be okay but you know Nonna. She fusses if you complain too much and definitely if you want to change your name!” Mum stopped talking and I started playing with my food. It was my favourite breakfast all-time, but I didn’t feel hungry at all.
That day, I walked to the shopping mall with Mum and Arabella, looking for an outfit for me to wear to school tomorrow and also for both of them. Normally we window shopped, but today was all a rush, so we couldn’t do much. We were in Melbourne central when Arabella and I came across Smiggle. I cautiously walked in not wanting little kids trampling all over my feet. You know how everyone loves Smiggle? I don’t even get how it’s so popular, I mean sure, they have like water based clocks and colour changing pencils, but this is all plain stationery. Just plain stationery. “Girls! I’ve found some cute outfits in Forever 21! Come here! Oh sorry Arabella, not you, I only meant Ambra,” Mum said when Arabella asked. I went inside Forever 21 as my Mum told me to but didn’t really like the clothes she picked out. Instead, I found some really cool clothes that I thought cool kids wore. I picked out some high waisted shorts with a short shirt that just covered my belly with some high top sneakers. I looked in the mirror then stepped out to show Mum. “Ambra, you’re not really going to wear that are you?” she asked wearily. Even though we were Christian, Mum seems like she is Jewish. Her policy is no too showy clothes and no too belly button clothes. “Mum! This is Year Seven! It’s the biggest year! I need to look good on the first day, I don’t want to chicken out towards Shaylene, or Becca. I have to buy these!” Mum looked disapprovingly at my clothes once again but still let me take them.
“I’ll just take these then,” Mum sighed to the lady at the counter, Alyson, as it said on her name tag. Apparently she had been watching our commotion. “Go, Ambra, take Arabella with you to the, just somewhere!” fussed Mum, pulling out her wallet.
“Teenagers. I know. I have a fourteen-year-old boy and (sigh) boy is it annoying. Besides, moody teenagers. What can I say? Not the best stage of life for Mums, is it?” asked Alyson, looking knowingly at Mum. Mum looked warily at my direction, hoping that I didn’t hear, but DUH! Of course I heard! I’m not some person who has pinched ears that can’t hear!
“Yes, yes, teenagers, but they can get away with everything, can’t they? Just blame it on hormones,” Mum said, shaking her head. Mum is strict and is sometimes one of those embarrassing mums, but she would never rat me out to a stranger about my personal behaviour.
It was about six o’clock when we got back home, and Arabella looked half asleep. “Ambra, take Arabella to sleep while I cook you some dinner,” called out Mum. I took my four and a half year old sister to her room and peeked inside Adriano’s bedroom. A messy 11 year old style room was all I saw. I didn’t even get one bit of how I was meant to be a role model to my siblings, if they couldn’t even tidy their room properly for starters! Arabella tugged on my arm sleeve motioning for me to keep walking. Sge yawned very tired looking, gave her teddy bear a pat and hopped into bed. “Sweet dreams, Arabella, and I won’t be here tomorrow morning, I’ll be off to school,” I whispered. I absolutely did NOT want to arrive at Rose Palmer’s School for Girls late. I kissed Arabella’s cute rosy pink cheeks, ruffled her black-Japanese like hair, turned off the lights and went downstairs.
Mum had cooked ravioli pasta with cream sauce, also one of my all-time favourite meals. I gratefully slurped up the pasta thinking about what I would me mirrored as on my first day of high school. An awesome kid who is like the only halfy that is Japanese and Italian? Unlikely. Someone who has really awesome clothes taste and looks so chic in her clothes? Maybe. I came up with loads of ideas, some of them worrying me even more about what I looked like. I absently fluffed my straight near-black hair for no reason. I kind of liked what I looked like better than Adriano and Arabella, because Arabella looks like sooo Japanese and Adriano looks too Italian that basically no one thinks he is Asian, while I’m like those mild Eurasians, where it’s obvious that I’m Asian whereas it’s also obvious that I’m European, people say I look like Michelle Branch, she’s half Chinese(not Japanese but anyway) and half European! I took less than fifteen minutes to eat my dinner and headed back to my room. My room was actually the old attic which got turned into a really cool no-one-allowed-except-Ambra room! It was really cool because since it was the attic, you have to push a button, climb up the pop-out stairs and then finally reach the destination. Awesome! I took my laptop off my desk and started writing on Storybird. It was my fav website to go on because writing was my favourite thing to do apart from dancing. Dancing was my life, and also my dream. If you looked around my room, all you could see was posters and posters of dancers; ballerinas, modern jazz dancers, contemporary dancers and hip-hop crews. Maddie Ziegler is my one and only forever idol, even if she is younger than me, she is the best dancer ever! My bedroom looked like it was a shrine to dance, also looking like Mum had shoved dancing down real hard my throat. Of course, it was me who wanted to live a dancing life. In the corner was my walk in wardrobe, where all my clothes were, and there also was a door next to the wardrobe which I called the Dance Supply Room because it was the room which all my dance stuff was. On one side was where all my dance shoes were, including jazz shoes, contemporary foot sandals, pointe shoes and hip-hop sneakers. In the middle was a rack which had all my costumes and leotards I have ever worn or had. On the opposite side was my make up table. Apparently Tess, the dancer that taught at my dance school Anna Pavlova’s School of Dance said that I looked like a true dancer and that my face looked perfect with make up. I smiled at the thought.”Ambra! Get to bed now! Remember you have to wake up early tomorrow for your first day! Good night sweet!” My mum as usual was always busy with work so she could never come and say good night properly unless I came down to her. Mum worked as part of a modelling crew, and she was the one that finalised that all the modelling pictures that came out of Madanata Mall, sometimes having to fix up the mistakes the amateur photoshoppers did. This was a big job, so Mum only had limited time with us. If you look her name up, Mum’s name is everywhere on the web, her name’s Isabella Romano, one of the greatest modelling crew celeb known.
Finishing of the last sentence of my paragraph, I zoomily brushed my teeth in the bathroom.
After, I quickly laid in to my four poster bed, pulled on the pointe shoe patterned covers on, turned off the lights and closed my eyes, hoping that tomorrow would come fast.
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