Love Like Cyanide
It's Wrong To Cry For Something You Never Had
Do you ever get that feeling when you're doing something you're not supposed to someone is going to catch you soon so you stop doing it but then realize that you're still all alone and that you just wasted a bunch of time not doing it because you thought they were going to catch you in the act? Well, that's how I felt. So it was only a matter of time before I snuck back into Derrik's room.
I didn't hesitate entering the room now. I knew better than to think there was anything more than just a bed and other bedroom basics. Like dead bodies. I shuddered at the memory of my dream (or was nightmare the right word?).
I retrieved the same box that I had recently put back. I was more eager this time to learn more about Molly Shay. It seemed as if she was the perfect child--physically and mentally. Her face was beautiful. Similar to mine, but more attractive. Same thick black hair (only her's was wavy) and light golden-brown eyes that reminded me of autumn.
The imagine flashed into my mind then; Molly Shay, standing next to me. We were similar, yet complete opposites. While staring at the two of us you'd probably ask, "Who died?" when looking in my direction. Molly had a certain glow to her appearance while I had a darkness imprinted onto me. Well that's what happens when your life sucks. I'll probably always look dead to the world. Saddened and scarred inside and outside.
I also had no special talent. Sure, I could draw. A little. But that seemed like nothing compared to the stories and poetry of M.A. Shay (what all her work appeared to be signed as). I sat for a long time just reading. I laughed at some parts, got emotional in others, and even gasped when the traditional cliff hanger at each ending of the chapter would rear it's ugly head up.
In the process of pulling out another stack of papers, something fell out of the box and landed right in my lap. It was small rectangular black box. A video tape. There was no label. Curiosity burning within me I looked around for a video camera. I've never used one, but I wasn't a complete idiot. I slipped the tape in and pressed play after turning it on.
"Merry Christmas!" a soft soprano voice crowed from the tape. I couldn't see a face, so the voice most likely belonged to the person holding the video camera. They turned the camera around so it was facing them. I recognized the same face that was in the many pictures I'd been looking at before.. "It's Christmas day, and guess who's here with us?" The camera turned away from her face and now focused on two teens giggling on a small couch next to a decorative lit Christmas tree. My eyes grew wide. There, I saw the younger version of Kathryn. The younger version of Derrik.
"Molly! Set the video camera down and sit with us!" Younger Derrik said to his even younger sister.
She set down the camera on a table and skipped over to the couch. She jumped on the two and they all laughed. "Kathy, are you sure your parents are okay with you spending Christmas day with us?" Molly asked.
"Yeah, they don't mind," she said, smiling widely. I'd never see her so happy. And her and Derrik...They looked so in love.
Derrik swung his arm around both girls and swayed left and right, singing along with the Christmas song playing in the background.
As I continued to watch, I experienced something I never had. Something I always wanted. Something I'd probably never get. A real family.
The tears streaming down my face burned, like acid. How appropriate.
I put away the video camera and papers back into the box and once again packed it away. I went back to my room crying hard, barely aware of the black night outside.
When my broken sobs turned into hysterical little hiccups I heard the door downstairs swing open. There was the sound of stumbling footsteps. Derrik was home.
I sat up and wiped my eyes and tried to get a hold on my breathing. After ten deep breaths I stood up and walked out the room, down the hall. Half way down the stairs I stopped. I heard Derrik stumbled into the kitchen; I couldn't see him. It was too dark.
A sickening cough erupted from his chest. He grumbled something unintelligibly and I heard a smash of glass. Then he started laughing like a mad man.
Derrik was home. And he was drunk.
I didn't hesitate entering the room now. I knew better than to think there was anything more than just a bed and other bedroom basics. Like dead bodies. I shuddered at the memory of my dream (or was nightmare the right word?).
I retrieved the same box that I had recently put back. I was more eager this time to learn more about Molly Shay. It seemed as if she was the perfect child--physically and mentally. Her face was beautiful. Similar to mine, but more attractive. Same thick black hair (only her's was wavy) and light golden-brown eyes that reminded me of autumn.
The imagine flashed into my mind then; Molly Shay, standing next to me. We were similar, yet complete opposites. While staring at the two of us you'd probably ask, "Who died?" when looking in my direction. Molly had a certain glow to her appearance while I had a darkness imprinted onto me. Well that's what happens when your life sucks. I'll probably always look dead to the world. Saddened and scarred inside and outside.
I also had no special talent. Sure, I could draw. A little. But that seemed like nothing compared to the stories and poetry of M.A. Shay (what all her work appeared to be signed as). I sat for a long time just reading. I laughed at some parts, got emotional in others, and even gasped when the traditional cliff hanger at each ending of the chapter would rear it's ugly head up.
In the process of pulling out another stack of papers, something fell out of the box and landed right in my lap. It was small rectangular black box. A video tape. There was no label. Curiosity burning within me I looked around for a video camera. I've never used one, but I wasn't a complete idiot. I slipped the tape in and pressed play after turning it on.
"Merry Christmas!" a soft soprano voice crowed from the tape. I couldn't see a face, so the voice most likely belonged to the person holding the video camera. They turned the camera around so it was facing them. I recognized the same face that was in the many pictures I'd been looking at before.. "It's Christmas day, and guess who's here with us?" The camera turned away from her face and now focused on two teens giggling on a small couch next to a decorative lit Christmas tree. My eyes grew wide. There, I saw the younger version of Kathryn. The younger version of Derrik.
"Molly! Set the video camera down and sit with us!" Younger Derrik said to his even younger sister.
She set down the camera on a table and skipped over to the couch. She jumped on the two and they all laughed. "Kathy, are you sure your parents are okay with you spending Christmas day with us?" Molly asked.
"Yeah, they don't mind," she said, smiling widely. I'd never see her so happy. And her and Derrik...They looked so in love.
Derrik swung his arm around both girls and swayed left and right, singing along with the Christmas song playing in the background.
As I continued to watch, I experienced something I never had. Something I always wanted. Something I'd probably never get. A real family.
The tears streaming down my face burned, like acid. How appropriate.
I put away the video camera and papers back into the box and once again packed it away. I went back to my room crying hard, barely aware of the black night outside.
When my broken sobs turned into hysterical little hiccups I heard the door downstairs swing open. There was the sound of stumbling footsteps. Derrik was home.
I sat up and wiped my eyes and tried to get a hold on my breathing. After ten deep breaths I stood up and walked out the room, down the hall. Half way down the stairs I stopped. I heard Derrik stumbled into the kitchen; I couldn't see him. It was too dark.
A sickening cough erupted from his chest. He grumbled something unintelligibly and I heard a smash of glass. Then he started laughing like a mad man.
Derrik was home. And he was drunk.
♠ ♠ ♠
And now I won't be getting back to this story until I get back from camping in Michigan.Comment, eh?