Sequel: Mr. Dreamer ›
Ms. Matchmaker
Porcelain
It's really difficult to get people to relate to whatever I feel and why I feel that way. It's not because I have a problem displaying my thoughts but because some things just don't come across to others easily.
I'm sure many girls have divorced parents. I can't be the only one, and I know that some day I can be able to use my pain for my own benefit. I can use my own trauma to prevent new pain. Surely, something like that can be explained with a few words, right?
Ten Years Ago.
The sound of sputtering porcelain isn't pleasant. It sounds like... It sounds like a baby that just got its pacifier ripped away from its mouth. It's a painful clatter, and it's a noise that isn't one that a child should hear in the middle of the night from her bedroom closet while her supposed loving parents argue in the kitchen downstairs.
Well, there goes another glass or something breakable. Either way, our eating area is surely getting destroyed by now just because the couple can't even take a breather to realize the hell that they had set off in matter of minutes. Not even five minutes ago was this place a quiet haven.
"Get out!" My mother's high-pitched shrill cry resonated through the wood of the closet door and to my eyes regardless of the distance. I rested my head back onto a fur coat that fell on the floor behind me.
My father's grungy voice replied with a harsh question. "Why should I!" It didn't take much to upset him. It was no wonder they had gone through this period of time where Mom would kick him out and he'd try to come back. I wonder if that's how it is this time.
"This is it, Dan! You're not coming back! I won't let you back in this house!" I could hear Mom clearly sobbing now. "You never loved me, and I was just too stupid to believe that you actually did!"
"Are you calling me a liar?" Dad's voice got deeper with each ounce of anger that flowed into his veins. "This is my house--"
"Bullshit!" Mom's words cut clearly through the walls.
The old man retaliated. "As if you and that brat that stays locked up in her room do any better! I kept this family standing up. I am the one that supported you."
"It's all lies. We can live without you." Her voice got quieter. "Just go."
"I don't think--"
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
The slam of the front door shook my seat on the carpeted area. I sat with my knees tucked in, expecting more to follow. After thirty seconds of silence, it all began to dawn on me all at once.
So that's it? A three minute argument turned into a permanent removal of the male authority figure in our house after eleven years? Is it possible that something like this can even happen so fast and at a rate that almost makes it seem like it was staged?
I let out the breath that circulated my lungs for the past hour. I guess I couldn't say that I'm surprised. It was bound to happen. They were just a divorce waiting to happen. But, I suppose, I just didn't expect it to happen so soon. What ever happened to 'I love you this much and more'? Or 'Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning'?
They were just all lies. Again, I shouldn't be surprised. My parents were the type of rushed couple that fell in love to early and, like I said, rushed. They rushed into a bond that they couldn't back out of without a reason and a fight. They became part of the 46% of the world that doesn't have their happily ever after. Now, we are the statistic.
My breathing became shallow. There was a thin film of sweat just above my brow. The fatigue my body felt hadn't surpassed the tension in my muscles just yet. It wasn't even six o'clock yet.
The closet door swung open revealing my mother with scarlet eyes, fresh tear drops still on her cheeks. She smeared the glistening spots spots under her nose. "Get up."
I stumbled to my feet, still avoiding eye contact with her.
Mom eyeballed me, pulling more tension into my skin. "Change your clothes. We're going out." She said abruptly.
I choked on the air in my throat, "W-why?"
She scoffed "Make yourself noticeable for once. Maybe then, you might have a little bit of confidence."
"I am confident--"
"Oh, in what?" She startled me with her harsh tone. "That you're pretty? That you're going to get an +A tomorrow?"
I glanced up at her, trying my hardest to fight back any emotions I had stirring inside me.
"Open your eyes. Maybe then you won't make my mistake." My mother's voice softened.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she hushed me with a second statement.
Oddly enough, she smiled. This smile was that of a genuine independent woman that didn't let whatever just happened to her life affect her future. "Let's go to the salon tonight."
I raised my eyebrows "Now?"
She nodded, reaching forward and grabbing a small hand full of my dirty blond waves between her fingers. "Your father said he always liked long hair. Is that why you never liked getting it cut?"
I knew that she was already aware of my answer before I even thought of replying.
"How short do you want it?" She tilted her head to the side. "All of it? It's your choice. It's up to you now, Amory. You've been wearing someone else's hair, and now it's time to find your own."
It was in that moment that I knew that I did not need a guy in my life. I vowed to myself that I would not let a guy affect me in the way that it affected my mom. My happiness is not dependent on a man that can't even bring himself up to me and openly admit his feelings. And the only way that I can live up to this vow is simple.
I won't fall in love.
I'm sure many girls have divorced parents. I can't be the only one, and I know that some day I can be able to use my pain for my own benefit. I can use my own trauma to prevent new pain. Surely, something like that can be explained with a few words, right?
Ten Years Ago.
The sound of sputtering porcelain isn't pleasant. It sounds like... It sounds like a baby that just got its pacifier ripped away from its mouth. It's a painful clatter, and it's a noise that isn't one that a child should hear in the middle of the night from her bedroom closet while her supposed loving parents argue in the kitchen downstairs.
Well, there goes another glass or something breakable. Either way, our eating area is surely getting destroyed by now just because the couple can't even take a breather to realize the hell that they had set off in matter of minutes. Not even five minutes ago was this place a quiet haven.
"Get out!" My mother's high-pitched shrill cry resonated through the wood of the closet door and to my eyes regardless of the distance. I rested my head back onto a fur coat that fell on the floor behind me.
My father's grungy voice replied with a harsh question. "Why should I!" It didn't take much to upset him. It was no wonder they had gone through this period of time where Mom would kick him out and he'd try to come back. I wonder if that's how it is this time.
"This is it, Dan! You're not coming back! I won't let you back in this house!" I could hear Mom clearly sobbing now. "You never loved me, and I was just too stupid to believe that you actually did!"
"Are you calling me a liar?" Dad's voice got deeper with each ounce of anger that flowed into his veins. "This is my house--"
"Bullshit!" Mom's words cut clearly through the walls.
The old man retaliated. "As if you and that brat that stays locked up in her room do any better! I kept this family standing up. I am the one that supported you."
"It's all lies. We can live without you." Her voice got quieter. "Just go."
"I don't think--"
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
The slam of the front door shook my seat on the carpeted area. I sat with my knees tucked in, expecting more to follow. After thirty seconds of silence, it all began to dawn on me all at once.
So that's it? A three minute argument turned into a permanent removal of the male authority figure in our house after eleven years? Is it possible that something like this can even happen so fast and at a rate that almost makes it seem like it was staged?
I let out the breath that circulated my lungs for the past hour. I guess I couldn't say that I'm surprised. It was bound to happen. They were just a divorce waiting to happen. But, I suppose, I just didn't expect it to happen so soon. What ever happened to 'I love you this much and more'? Or 'Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning'?
They were just all lies. Again, I shouldn't be surprised. My parents were the type of rushed couple that fell in love to early and, like I said, rushed. They rushed into a bond that they couldn't back out of without a reason and a fight. They became part of the 46% of the world that doesn't have their happily ever after. Now, we are the statistic.
My breathing became shallow. There was a thin film of sweat just above my brow. The fatigue my body felt hadn't surpassed the tension in my muscles just yet. It wasn't even six o'clock yet.
The closet door swung open revealing my mother with scarlet eyes, fresh tear drops still on her cheeks. She smeared the glistening spots spots under her nose. "Get up."
I stumbled to my feet, still avoiding eye contact with her.
Mom eyeballed me, pulling more tension into my skin. "Change your clothes. We're going out." She said abruptly.
I choked on the air in my throat, "W-why?"
She scoffed "Make yourself noticeable for once. Maybe then, you might have a little bit of confidence."
"I am confident--"
"Oh, in what?" She startled me with her harsh tone. "That you're pretty? That you're going to get an +A tomorrow?"
I glanced up at her, trying my hardest to fight back any emotions I had stirring inside me.
"Open your eyes. Maybe then you won't make my mistake." My mother's voice softened.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she hushed me with a second statement.
Oddly enough, she smiled. This smile was that of a genuine independent woman that didn't let whatever just happened to her life affect her future. "Let's go to the salon tonight."
I raised my eyebrows "Now?"
She nodded, reaching forward and grabbing a small hand full of my dirty blond waves between her fingers. "Your father said he always liked long hair. Is that why you never liked getting it cut?"
I knew that she was already aware of my answer before I even thought of replying.
"How short do you want it?" She tilted her head to the side. "All of it? It's your choice. It's up to you now, Amory. You've been wearing someone else's hair, and now it's time to find your own."
It was in that moment that I knew that I did not need a guy in my life. I vowed to myself that I would not let a guy affect me in the way that it affected my mom. My happiness is not dependent on a man that can't even bring himself up to me and openly admit his feelings. And the only way that I can live up to this vow is simple.
I won't fall in love.