Untitled
By lucy_inthesky_withdiamonds
- 556 reads
Chapter 2
A chink of the last of the evening light shone through the bay windows, irradiating the shell coloured walls. Pixie sleepily opened one eye and burrowed her way further into the amalgamation of cushions and blankets at the foot of my bed. The illumination of my bedroom was only one factor contributing to Pixie’s rude awakening. The second being the daily dusk dispute between my parents. An object hit the wall which was most likely thrown in anguish by my mother. The glass shattered and the sound reverberated around my cramped bedroom walls. I was thankful for my compressed and compact bedroom, tucked in between the main bathroom and Ben’s bedroom and study, supposedly out of harm’s way. During their rows it provided a sense of comfort and enabled Pixie and me to blare music and build a fortress of solitude just big enough to accommodate the two of us. Next, a stack of pots and pans hit the laminate flooring of the kitchen, followed by my father’s rapid cacophonous bellows, which mirrored his temper. My mother’s piercing shrieks mutated into wheezing sobs which wracked the whole house, resonated and then occupied the air with an eerie, uncomfortable stillness. My parents’ disagreements were whirlwinds of emotion and abuse, but they ended as quickly as they began.
It had remained silent for a good five minutes before I made the risky decision to scamper with Pixie along the corridor to Ben’s bedroom, which was five times the size of my match box. Ben, upon hearing my footsteps, moved a few items creating a shuffling noise and soundlessly opened the door. Pixie and I, inviting ourselves in, flopped onto his bed.
“Did you hear the row?”
“Eighth night in a row.”
I sighed. His stomach growled.
“We shouldn’t have to live like this. You’re hungry, I’m clearly hungry; we shouldn’t be prisoners in our own home. We should be able to go downstairs and make supper if we want to.”
I raised an eyebrow. It was easy for him to say that, Mom and Dad knew that they had no effect or control over him whatsoever, so they never bothered to intimidate him.
“Okay…Well, if we’re going downstairs, after you.” I ushered him towards the door, leaving him no opportunity to come up with an excuse. He only got to the top of the stairs before the verbal jousting rallied up again.
“Oh, you know what, Kevin? Fuck you!”
Dad emitted a malicious laugh. “Fuck you too, Jenna.”
“I’ve had enough. Your lies. Your abuse. Fuck you and fuck everyone in this fucking house!” I heard what I assumed to be Mom propelling a china bowl at my father’s head and him narrowly dodging it, causing it to smash onto the smooth varnished flooring of our open-plan dining area.
“You are bat-shit crazy, lady! What the fuck was I thinking when I married you?” His voice was getting more distant as he exited the house and although he was cursing, his voice sounded softer, as if his words had apologetic connotations that he otherwise would be unable to utter. Ben and I stood at the top of the stairs. My heart was pumping the blood around my body so rapidly, I thought I might vomit. Ben, upon hearing my ragged breathing, placed a nurturing hand on my shoulder, squeezing it tightly as though to soothe me. My father had abruptly left the house at this point, so using Ben as a human shield against my 5 foot nothing mother’s knife-like tongue, we ambled slowly down the stairs. She was sat on a breakfast stool at the counter, her back facing us. Our inability to read her face meant it was impossible to know what character she was taking on. Her profile depicted her sleek black hair clinging to her nape and smoke billowing around her head creating a toxic shroud. I couldn’t work out whether I didn’t want to disturb her or whether I was too scared to face her. Anyhow, I turned around to clamber back up the stairs. She’d already sensed my presence, as before I could even place my foot on the first step, she carefully articulated four words which were more crisp and clear than the first snow of winter:
“I want a divorce.”
Although this was not the first occasion on which I’d heard this phrase, it never failed to delay my breathing and choke me up momentarily. Ben squeezed my fragile, limp hand in between his massive paw, as if to resume the blood circulation. We’d both heard this at least twice before, but even though we knew our parents weren’t happy as a couple, and therefore reinforced the idea of marriage negatively on us, we secretly feared that one day one of them would make it a reality and file. In addition, our reasons were purely selfish. Not so much of an issue for Ben, due to him being a legal fully functioning adult, but I was scared of which of them would get custody of me, or if either of them would even want custody of me. Living with the both of them is the personification of hell itself, but in a crazy, twisted manner their split personalities neutralized each other. I guess I was mostly concerned of obtaining the ability to say that I’m from a broken home, when I unofficially already was. It is the norm nowadays for people’s parents not to be in a partnership, anyway.
“Pack your bags, kids, we’re leaving your shitty father and this hell hole.” She finished smoking her cigarette and stood up with such a false sense of enthusiasm that it startled me. She attempted a smile at us but it came across as more of a grimace. She’d spent so long being depressed that she’d forgotten how to be happy in her own skin or, at the very least, appear it. The thought of that made me feel wretchedly guilty. Despite the lack of attachment I felt towards her and my father, they were still my parents; still human, and they deserved to feel somewhat content with their lives.
“Erm…Mom, we’re not going anywhere.” Ben so rarely directly referred to our parents, that the words ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ sounded foreign in his mouth, like a small child cautiously attempting to pronounce a new-fangled word for the very first time, living in terror of articulating it in the wrong manner.
My mother scoffed so hard at his response that it could almost be classed as a cackle.
“Oh bless you, honey pie, you think you have a choice. Well, no, I’m leaving which means that you and Lillian are leaving too, so make life easier for yourself and go and start packing.”
If there was one thing which Ben had inherited from our mother, it was her inability to give up an argument and be proved wrong. At times like this, they tended to clash and like most things in our household, it then resulted in a full-blow argument.
“Look, we’re-“
“Ben, honestly don’t worry. Yes, Mom, we’ll go and pack now.”
She cleared her throat and folded her pale bony arms across her equally bony chest.
“Yes, well, hurry up, I want to be gone before that despicable bastard I’m married to gets back.”
“Wait, what stuff of Pixie’s do I have to pack? Like how long will we be gone?”
This time she did cackle.
“Oh, you’re not serious. That mutt isn’t coming with us. It stays here, I can’t stand the sight of that ugly thing.”
“Mom, Pixie is part of the family. Besides, Dad was way more against us keeping her than you were. If we leave her here, she’ll never get fed or he’ll send her to the pound.”
“For God’s sake, Lillian, open your ears! That dog is not welcome where I am going.”
Ben took this brief gap in the conversation as the perfect moment to interject. “Actually, we weren’t taken to the idea of coming with you in the first place. I was willing to suck it up for Lily, but if she wants Pixie to come and you’re going to allow her to be left here on her own, then no. I’m staying here and Lily and Pixie are going to stay with me.”
Ben stood strong and tall with his arm around my shoulders, holding me up with him. Pixie sat at my feet, directly between us. It was a bizarre moment, like something you’d only see in the movies. It all seemed very fabricated, as if we were only forming an alliance to spite my mother, but at the same time I was glad of the support of my brother, choosing my welfare as his primary concern. It gave me a brief recollection of our relationship when we were small children, and before I knew it, I was yearning for that bond again.
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Comments
'I sighed. His stomach
'I sighed. His stomach growled.'
'using Ben as a human shield against my 5 foot nothing mother’s knife-like tongue'
Two excellent lines in this strong piece.
If you don't mind me saying I found the middle of this piece to be weaker than your start and finish. Just an opinion.
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What a great start, the
What a great start, the parents are almost incidental, it's all about the kids. I look forward to the next chapter.
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