Snake Bite Heart With a Bubble Gum Smile

My parents stare for a few seconds. Shock wears off though. They don't run and hug me. They hug Alex.

"You found her," my mother cries.

"That's my boy," my father says.

Of course Alex gets the credit. I should have seen it coming really. Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change.

Alex has a smile of triumph on his face. I want to punch him.

"Can I go upstairs?" I ask.

"Oh, August, we wanted to go out for ice cream," my mom says.

"I just ate," I answer.

"Are you sure?" my mother asks.

"She really ate mom," Alex says.

Why don't you shut the fuck up, Mr. Perfect?

I turn and walk back up the stairs. I don't want to hear what else they have to say. I walk into my room, close the door and lay on my bed.

They've changed by becoming closer as a family. Now I'm the stranger. I don't belong here. I can tell Alex has changed at least a little bit. He talked to me earlier. He made me food. I can’t help feeling a little jealous of him. Mom and dad care about him. My parents might be a little afraid of me. If they've read my journal though, they would know that all I want is compassion.

I wanted a hug just now.

I guess I'll never get what I want.

I shouldn't have put my sanity on the line for them. I shouldn't even stay.

There's a knock on my door.

"Come in," I call.

The door opens; my parents stand in the doorway a large bag in hand.

"I thought you were going for ice cream."

They walk in; place the bag on the ground.

"We can't go without you. You're the reason we're celebrating," my mother says, sitting at the foot of my bed.

"What's in the bag?" I ask.

Curiosity has always been my worst trait.

"Presents for you. For each birthday and Christmas you've missed."

My father still stands, shifting awkwardly. He has never been one to show emotions other than happiness and anger.

"You got me presents?"

She nods. "We want you to open them downstairs so we can get pictures."

They’ve never really taken pictures of me doing something that trivial.

"Thanks," it comes out more as a question.

"You've grown so much," my mother states.

"Alex said the same thing," I reply.

"He's going to have to protect you from all those boys."

My father goes rigid. Can't think of his daughter getting older and having male suitors, I assume.

"Yeah, right."

Hesitantly, she reaches out her hand and touches my hair, patting it in a maternal manner.

She's afraid of me. My father must be too. He still hasn't sat down.

"Dad, are you okay?" I ask.

He shakes head, looking at his feet. He looks up again a tear trailing down his face.

"I can't believe you're really here," he says.

"Well, I am."

"Can we—," he stops.

"Can you what?" I ask.

"Can your mother and I hug you?"

I smile. Again a toothy smile, much like the one from earlier.

"Of course," I say.

So maybe they care more than I thought.

My mother pulls me into a hug the millisecond the consent leaves my lips. My father walks over also pulling me into a hug.

"Room for one more?" Alex asks, walking in and joining the group hug.

I've never been so happy in my life.