The Wasted Days.

I was sitting in the living room. I was listening to my parents moan and groan about how they simply have to go on this trip for work. I was hearing how their boss wouldn’t let them stay home this once. I was sitting in the living room, listening to their sorry excuses, and I wasn’t buying a minute of it.

It was that guilty glint in their eyes when they preferred to look at their feet rather than my pale face. It was in the way my mother rocked her foot against the ground, she’d done it for as long as I could remember. Especially when she was telling dad about why she cleaned the house, or who made dinner, or that it was the boss calling. It was in the way that my father twiddled his thumbs. It was both a nervous habit and something to keep him from blurting the truth. He’d done it when he told me that Ronny, my first dog, had run away. Too bad I’d overheard them talking about breaking the news of his death to me.

You’d think you could get a little time off when your daughter’s dying?

But on the other hand, I completely understood them. Who wants to be there when a loved one drops dead? I wouldn’t. Jared obviously does for some unspeakable reason. I felt his thumb rub a circle into the back of my hand. I glanced over at him and it was obvious he knew they were lying too. He looked at me for a second before flicking his eyes back to the deceivers.

I could see the appeal in finding out through a heartbreaking phone call, I really could.

I wouldn’t hate them for this.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” My mom’s voice was sugar coated as always, but I was starting to feel sick.

“I get it.” I mumbled, looking to my father, who avoided eye contact at all costs. “I really get it.” I mumbled as his eyes flicked up and I caught them for a second before he guiltily stared back at his thumbs, rolling in circles and never touching.

“Do you? Do you really get it?” He asked, scared and tired and vulnerable. I’d never seen my strong father this broken up about anything.

I nodded reassuringly. “I do. I understand.” I whispered, suddenly my feet became interesting. “I would do the same thing.” I muttered.

Lie.

Big, fat, blaring lie.

And it sat there just glaring me in the face, asking my how the hell I could lie like that.

Jared slumped over a little and breathed in my ear, “No you wouldn’t.”

I blinked my eyes slowly before turning to look up at him. He was half smiling at me but there was a fire in his eyes. He hated my parents for this, he couldn’t see why they were doing it. Not like I could. I shook my head a little bit at him and the fire dimmed down. He looked at our hands and so did I.

And it was like I was only now realizing what was happening.

Not with the cancer and the death though, that had hit me full force a long time ago, but what hit me was how Jared seemed to be only getting closer to me. Somewhere along the line I think I had noticed and had just decided to ignore it. To go along with it.

Because it felt good and I liked it.

I felt like a monster, admitting that to myself, I really did. My death would be his destruction if I wasn’t careful, and that’s why I’m actually happy as my parents walk to the door, because that means I’m leaving behind one less destroyed soul. They would have a chance to heal before it happened. They were leaving the dogs behind, just another hint that this is no business trip. They must have noticed I knew. I smiled, the first genuine smile in a while, and waved as they drove off with tears in their eyes.

We could have gone without the emotions, I guess, but it was still picture perfect.

Now only to get rid of Jared.

As if reading my mind, the devil himself came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, swaying a little from side to side. It was like he knew I was going to try to shake him away. “Is there a reason you were trying to comfort them?” He asked. I nodded. “What would that be.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I mumbled. I knew he’d never understand and why waste the breath I have left trying to make him? There was no point.

“Listen, Salem. We really need to talk.” Oh, the dreaded ‘we need to talk’. I literally shook with fear, but I nodded as he led me up the stairs and into my room.

I didn’t want to explain. Not just yet.