Chapter 1
1092 Words
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I should get up.
My eyes shift to the window on the left, playing me damp azures the night has left behind. The pets of evergreens rise from their earthy houses, accompanied by the slow dance of flying leaves.
It's Monday.
The tickle I felt on my ear send a shiver through my nose, leading me to wipe away the tear:
I don't want to move.
I want to fly with the wind..
.just for a little while...
I want to smell of petrichor...
Oh the dream of being a willow tree...
A place where perpetual blanc covers my home,
and contrasts the noir void that is my chambers...
'That was a bit corny,' I chuckle.
This feels nice-
Burst! Slam! Glare! Point!
I watched the daily outburst my mom regularly displayed, just after waking up. My ears drowned and over-soaked the words:
"Do I really have to get you out of there???" Her piercing eyes bore a hole into my petrified standing frame, waiting for the next words...
"If the bus leaves what are you going to do then??? huh?? Answer ME!" As if she sensed the flinch, her response was automatic, calculated, like a block falling into place after its obstruction had been disintegrated.
I don't really remember what I said before the ringing began. 'Maybe the tinnitus set in again,'
"Talk back again and I'll give you something to run about," the glares didn't stop shooting, till they pointed up and down, as if non-verbally saying, 'you should crawl in a hole and cease to exist, you pathetic waste of human resources.’ I bite back an unforeseen smile at my clever use of words, before the daggers stabbed me back to the pool of vermillion that was reality.
"Just look at your hair, your teeth. Is this how you're heading out??? I have to do everything for you, you're basically useless," I stepped back as her intimidating figure ran a close-up on mine-
"I MEAN, WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING AROUND HERE?!?!" She snatches the poor handle of my book-filled backpack, eyeing the salmon mark left on my ear, "HUH?? ALL YOU DO IS EAT AND SLEEP. NEXT THING I HEAR, YOU'RE BEGGING ME NOT TO GET MAD," the bag lands at its 5 foot tall destination, "AT THE C. YOU GOT. LAST. TIME YOU FOOLISH. LAZY. i***t!" My bag was made of fabric, thankfully. I did land on the floor and earned another hand-kiss to my back. As my ears flooded with pounds, I heard for the last time, "Come home with another one, you'll ask if I'm even your real mother."
My mother is a beautiful lady. She's fair, warm, and, well, beautiful. She's got the smile of a sentient sun, one that could send the sky's fog running.
Maybe that was why her words hit harder than cane, sending me into the void that was my mind.
why do you a..lways do thi..
What i..s your prob..
YO..U'RE A FAILURE...
yo..u should live beneath the e...arth...
She would be much happier if you were de..a...
CHANGE YOUR FACE!
YOU'RE A PROBLEM HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
you're unlovable...frankly.
why are u here
you're so exhausting….
STOP CRYING UGH STOP!! STOP!! JUST STO....O…
The screams, at times incoherent, accompany my short walk to the bathroom, judging the way I selfishly wasted Earth's tasteless refreshment on my face, tears, and sink.
1...
2...
5...
7...?
I stepped out 10 minutes later, having memorized the basin's ceramic glow, earned from barely a window’s ray.
As if sensing my echo-less footsteps, I was punched by the pounds that were mine, suddenly meeting with a towering male figure,
"What were you doing in there?” My father inquires. The familiar whiff of inevitable loss clamps on my heart once more as it trips on its beats, as I scramble to look for words.
I unconsciously follow the sting of words dripping in a tone of superiority, blinded with the desire to dominate, absent in its empathetic class, leering with fault-searching shards.
_“I was just washing my face,”_ I say, steady enough to pass, but I feel it—
how my hands want to tremble,
how my body’s begging me to shrink.
His presence presses against my ribs like rocks impacting a fall on me.
He doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks. A glance that _measures_, not sees. Then he turns and walks away—shoulders squared, back straight, like every movement is rehearsed.
That’s when I let the breath out. Quiet. Unintentional.
Just... air.
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding it.
I lift the rock just a little to release my airways, only for them to be crushed once again.
“Hey.”
I feel myself getting pulled lower to the Earth's core, the weight of his voice transcending gravity's.
His voice is low. Clear. Precise. Like he’s reading a script meant to correct me.
I freeze, caught in the doorway. Every sound in the house disappears except his footsteps coming back.
My tinnitus makes its existence known to me as I stop my hands from shaking, looking back into the bright-lit room, showing me what my insides lacked.
I swallow internally and force my eyes to halt its habitual darting.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
A pause.
“Not in this house.”
I swallow. My mouth tries to find a shape for explanation.
I wasn’t sighing at you.
I find you terrifying.
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm scared
I'm scared
I'm scared.....
“no no I- no I- I was-”
“I didn’t ask for excuses.”
“That kind of attitude? It doesn’t fly here.”
His tone isn’t raised. It never is.
It’s even. Disappointed. Like he’s filing a report in his head.
Like I’ve committed something worse than disrespect—inefficiency.
My eyes sting. I nod. Once. Twice. Then I leave.
In….Out.
In, out. In, out…In……out. In……..In…..
I crouch in the grass, waiting for the bus, preoccupied with water and a disgusting amount of self-awareness.
‘I feel cringe.’
Why are you crying?????? WHY????
You should’ve just stayed still.
You exist too loudly.. .
Stop talking.
Stop breathing……
Yo.U TAKE U..P Too..
The voices don’t stop, their echos intensifying my sobs….yet I hear nothing but them. I feel nothing but disgust for my behavior.
I see nothing but blurry crescents inflicted on my legs and arms.
Ungrat…ef..ul ..
U…ngra…tefu……..
F…A-ILU-REE.E…..E!The bus arrives. I suck it up and prepare myself.
I climb on.
To school I go.
- Writer
