Shadows

Dinner in our house is awkward. To anyone looking in on us anyway.
With me writing everything I need to say. Want to say.
It feels normal to us because we’ve been carrying on conversations this way for so long.
If any person looked at us eating, they’d think I was a typical teenage girl.
Taking a vow of silence because my parents wouldn’t buy me a car.

It’s not like that at all as you know.
At dinner I write down what I would love to say on a tiny white board.

“How were you doing today?” David asks Vivian.

“Oh, not bad. Carse helped me out all day, so we had a good day.” Vivian answers resting her hand on her swollen belly.

Vivian is pregnant. It’s two this time.
She’s seven months pregnant.
Soon there will be two more infants in the house.
The first one being myself.

I am an infant with the way Vivian and David care for me.
I am not growing up, if anything I am going in reverse.
They cater to my every need because I “scarred” and because if they don’t, no one will.
No one thinks that I can take care of myself with a little help.
A child is what I am. An infant is what I’m treated as.
I hate this. I hate being an infant.

“Speaking of helping you out, I was thinking.” Dave say and pauses to sip his water. “Maybe Alex would be willing to help you out. You know, do something other than yard work. That way he can pay off the window faster.”

No. No. No. No!

“That would be good. I sure wouldn’t mind having some more help around her. Carse has her hands full just looking after Lily all day.” Viv answers.

Why? Why is she making this sound like a good idea.
This is a bad idea. This is the worst idea.
Alex in my house everyday.
Alex in my haven everyday.
No.

“What do you think?” Dave asks, he and Viv both look at me.

I uncap my purple marker. I let the tip dangle in my hand, an inch away from the board.
No. Not going to happen. I don’t want him here.

The good thing about writing instead of speaking is that you have time to think before you write.
I can be an infant and I can scribble out how much I would hate and fear having him in the house.
I could be a child. I can write down that I’m fine with this proposal and keep my doubts to myself.

‘I don’t know.’ I scribble down and show my board.
I took the easy way out. I took the toddler way out.

&&

My cowardly act of allowing Dave and Viv argue about Alex, landed me in hell.

Dave said “It might be good for you. Maybe you’ll make a new friend.”
Viv just winked at me and said “He’s cute.”
Dave said “He’ll stay away from your room.”
Viv argued that one by saying “It’s her house too, she should have free roam of it.”

I walked away after that. Fearing a headache if they got into it.

&&

I sit up in my bed. I rub my eyes free of sleep.
I check the time. I yawn.
I stretch my arms high above my head.
I yawn again as my muscles rejoice at the movement.

I hear then. The sounds of my own funeral.
The door bell. Alex greeting my sister.
The thought of him.
The sound of him.

I will not leave my room until he leaves my house.
This is how things are going to go.
I should not exist in his eyes.
I will not exist in his eyes.