Lies Without Reflections

There was no gut-wrenching pain. There was only becoming a circular crevice billowing void into the world. The agony; unbearably insubstantial - I could barely feel it, it hurt so bad. I came home wanting to scream. With every look I had wished we didn"t have to be so blind. Him and me. Now I could let it all out. I collapsed and screamed because I became so empty, so suddenly. Pawing that big of a part of a person should be a crime, it is the most enormous cruelty; to get used to the ceased things that once were. It"s all a rip in a fabric with the noise of tearing, an ever-increasing, never-closing wound. “You can"t lose it” I looked myself square in the eye, my reflection flat and washed out, wondering whether the mirror added to the effect. It would"ve been so easy to slip away. I dreamed about it. I dreamed about going mental. I promised myself that would be the only place I remain to be selfish. That terminal ringing cancelled my need to live for myself. And maybe it was fortunate. Because maybe I wouldn"t have carried on solely for myself. Who knew that a phone call can diminish you out of existence? I wondered what would make it go away...then I remembered—nothing. It rained when I went to her school to take her home. I steeled myself for seeing her. I pretended that nothing happened, I had to act like everything was alright. One had to know that it is the hardest thing to do when the floor got yanked out from beneath one"s feet, when one was laid flat on the ground, breathless. She came out and asked. “Ooh what is wrong?” sliding her arms about me. The puffy eyelids were a treacherous sign. “Nothing, it"s just the rain. And the humidity” I should"ve smiled. I forgot how. Lying always seemed second nature, my face helped make them believable, my charisma planted truth behind facades. Some lies were heavier than others. Some lies weighed too much to get off your chest. “But they never even said goodbye to me” she cried “Can we call them? We can call them right?” I nodded. Swallowing each tear, each sob, each scream I opened my mouth and closed it again. We can call them after the plane landed, that"s what I wanted to say. So she would relax, at least I could give her a delay, a peace of mind for as long as I could keep it in. But I only held her so she wouldn"t see - how much I needed her. Needed her not to know. Needed her to be my personal piece of sanity when I ran out of my own. When she fell asleep I went into the kitchen sank down to the black tiles and gazed longingly at the wine bottle. My mind played games. I feigned to hear the lock turn, familiar voices coming home. Voices that not only won"t come home but I won"t hear again forever. Eyes I can"t look, lie, stare into, arms that won"t hold me together at times like this, when I shatter, lips that won"t tell me that I"m worth it. I was raw with pulsating, sullenness. My lungs felt too small a size to keep me breathing and I was drowning on air, smothered by absence. No matter how hard I pressed my thighs into my ribs to stop them from pounding the rhythm of loss, that cool smolder would never be put out only put to slumber. I stared at her, breathing softly in her sleep and at that moment it seemed to be the right choice. But my chest burned with the ache to squeeze her to me, dulling the pain by sharing it, dividing the burden of silence, exchanging it for a shouting hollowness. Even now I wanted to lean on her, because she was stronger now. I couldn"t test whether her ignorance made her that way, I would never have forgiven myself had I probed that theory. By dawn I packed her up and sent her to school. She had to be normal. For me, at least. I called my school. “What can I help you with?” “Hello. Uhm…it"s Mallory Piper from Ms. Cousins" class. It seems I won"t be able to come in today” “I see. Is there a parent around I could speak with? Do you have—” “I"m over eighteen. You need adult consent don"t you? Legally I"m an adult” “I will have to speak with a parent, darling” “Well, I"m sorry.....but you can"t” “I"m afraid I can"t give you authorized absence then honey” the woman said in a practically buoyant voice. Isn"t it the epitome of audacity to be so cheerful in the face of the ruination of someone else"s life? A long pause ensued. I was surprised how she didn"t hang up until I put myself together temporarily. Pinching the base of my nose, I listened to my ragged, troubled breathing. The women"s unperturbed mood was buzzing through the line. The words in my mind dizzied me, they craved to break free ,pushing on my skull from several angles crushing it from the inside out. “They can"t...”I breathed. I tasted the rubble of the sob in my throat. “Come again, darling?” I couldn"t. “Fine. Unauthorized absence it is” my voice bent into a shaky, wet sound and I had to hang up. The dripping rain stabbed me in the chest, enhancing my grief with a knife of melancholy. Clamping a hand against my mouth I squeezed it back in. What, I haven"t a clue. I never realized emptiness could burn so intensely, that you had to stuff it back into your mouth to keep it from spilling. But like all things of fire it couldn"t be contained, just numbed. Maybe numbed. My brain didn"t see my fingers, only my ears sensed the dial tone. I called him. I never called him. His voice was the cue to pour my animalistic uncontrollable sobs out, I wept into the phone. He hurled all the stupid questions at me and I only repeated one thing, laced with disbelief and fear, like the believers pray a psalm — "My parents died". I didn"t hear the words but a cry for help. He came over, telling me all the comfortable lies coated in fancy promises. We both knew there was nothing he could do apart from being the collector of my tears as long as I had them. I didn"t know what would happen when they ran out. What would carry the agony away? What would be my novocaine to muss my memories with? “Go home” I told him. I didn"t want him to leave just yet. I was afraid the longer he stayed the less will I"d have to send him away. “I can"t leave you like this” You couldn"t or you wouldn"t? “There"s no reason in torturing you too by sitting here and watching me when you know I"m helpless” “f**k that, I won"t leave you alone like this” But he did. Because he was polite and kind and not the selfish, destructive monster who"d have stayed even if it was torment, the one that would"ve guided my hand into resorting my grasp on life. He thought I was strong enough. Another call. It would take me some time til I learned not to flinch whenever I heard the phone ringing. I let it go to voicemail. Mum"s sister. She was choking on a cry, telling me they"ll arrive on Saturday to fly us home. Despair engulfed me. I wrenched the phone free and screamed at her. I breathed sore air from my lungs. It felt like I only needed to open my mouth and it would smolder with pain. I tasted loss on my tongue. I wanted to scream until my voice hurt, until it chafed and was more the final roar of the hunted game than a human sound, until I could stop. By that time she hung up. The knock on the door rapped a foggy rhythm on my eardrums. The caretaker woman told me she had been there for an hour when I finally answered. We started a game where she asked questions I barely kept up and I shook my head. Her smile felt intrusive though it intended to be reassuring. It was too shiny not to have been false and practiced. She must"ve felt compassionate but again it was nothing but rehearsed empathy. A job well done. “Don"t worry about your sister” I raised my head, looking into her dark face haloed by the living room"s windows. “She"ll be taken good care of” The cold truth fell on my head like an icy anvil. “She"s currently taken good care of” That"s when I saw it on her face. Pity. I was so glad it ignited something else than tears in me. “Look, it would be better for her sake if she lived with a foster family. For now of course. It doesn"t exclude you from visiting her. You"re her family after all” Visiting? I stood up. “Get out” Her eyes, surprised then squinted in commiseration. “Get out of my house” “Mallory—” “DO YOU NOT HEAR ME? SCRAM!” When she didn"t budge I stormed out of the room. Rummaging in the cupboard I found the biggest carving knife that looked threatening enough and went back in pointing it at her. “Get a move on” I growled “How dare you come here and have the nerve to tell me you"ll take my sister away from ME? She"s staying with me, understand? I"m over 18, your government considers me an adult, you might as well do the same” Her soggy eyes filled with alarm, then fear. She jumped up off the sofa and held her hands in surrender. I waved the blade at her. “Or what is it? I"m her next of kin, closest relative” my sluggish mind frantically tried to think rationally “Is-is it that my job doesn"t pay enough? I"ll have another. I"ll give school up. I don"t care” She just blinked at me. I stepped closer. “We-uh we don"t think it"s a-” she looked at the blade “safe and nurturing environment for a kid to grow and progress...” her voice waned then changed the subject “ We don"t want to burden you anymore! Don"t—don"t do anything you would regret” Right. Tears welled up on the brink of my lower lid, making it hard to see her stupid sorry complexion. Judge the mad girl with her ugly ogling eyes, you bloody w***e. “Is this emotionally stable for you? I stand by my own morals and ambitions. I"d call that exemplary not unstable and un-nurturing” my voice was bitter, losing its menacing edge. “Out” I chaperoned her out the door. I piled another heap of lies on the little hill of yesterday. I couldn"t see her little face doused in pain. She cried because she missed them. I missed them too. It made my chest twist and I had to leave with a swift goodnight kiss. The mask I wore for her sake fell off, right in the doorway of her room. I slumped down clamping two violently trembling palms over my mouth. All of me tensed in strain to hold all that grief in. My body felt too small to be able to contain this gargantuan amount of bereavement. I fell asleep by her closed door, my hard head braced in an unlikely angle on the sturdy wood. I dreamed about them. Subconscious reconstructing a normal morning I sat at the round dining table. My mother in her magenta felt robe tinkering away with the food, dad typing away on his laptop. It was alright. It was a bad dream, a dark dream. Mum, I said matter-of-factly, I had such a nightmare. Really? Must be because of the full moon. What was it? I looked back at dad. He wasn"t there. A clenching feeling started dawning on me. Where has dad gone? I turned to mum. She was already there, by my side, running a hand over my hair. Smooth, warm and real. The stroke I rarely got nowadays but was telling of infinite tenderness. Tears stung my eyes as the air escaped my chest. I looked into her eyes, knowing so well that they were nothing but a memory, their colour the shade of nostalgia. It"s all going to be fine, she said. And I shook my head, fighting the building sobs, and I would"ve shaken it until it flew through the damned room if it meant I could feel her touching me once more like that. Like she was my mother who loved me most int this world and would never have left me. Can I be angry at you? I asked. I"ll have to go, wake your sister up, she replied. Mum. Mum! I cried. Don"t go! Don"t go yet! She was already turning and going, up the stairs disappearing from my view, slipping out of life. “You don"t have to wake her up” I awakened with a start, tears and snot dribbling on my face. I grabbed a pillow and screamed until my throat bruised, the skin peeled away in bloody flakes. She asked what was wrong again. My voice ran away. I dodged her questions but I never hugged her as tight as I did when she passed the gate of the school. I rushed home, heaving with my shrunk lungs. She had her eyes, my mother"s eyes.