Fuel to the Fire

I didn’t get out of my room for five days, except for showers, of course. I didn’t have my own bathroom and it was a hell to get out of my room and cross the hallway. I also hadn’t eaten anything and I didn’t plan on getting any food any time soon. I just basically laid on my bed and sulked all day. I didn’t even bother to open my windows.

Tim and Pat tried many times to get me out of my room, but nothing worked. Lauren, Tessa, Gabi, Abbey and the boys, no one got a word from me. There was always someone to bother me, banging on my door and calling or texting me. None of those missed calls or texts were from him.

I felt empty, hollow. I didn’t know what to do, and when I did something, I felt like a robot: I didn’t know what I was doing; I just knew it had to be done. And it was always the same thing: wake up, sulk, sulk, shower, sulk, sleep, sulk, shower again, cry all night, sleep and start all over.

On the sixth (or it was fifth?) night, Pat stood up until late watching tv. Only us were awake in the house, so we tried not to be loud, Pat with his tv and me with my bawls.

I heard as he came up the stairs, not to be loud. He knocked on my door softly, calling my name. I didn’t answer.

“Here’s something to you. Goodnight” he whispered and the lights went off. I waited until I heard his door close to see what he left for me.

A bowl with cookies and a glass of milk were placed on my doorstep, with a note saying “don’t stare yourself.” I felt the urge to cry again. I left the food there, untouched and locked myself in my room again, rushing to my bed. I climbed under the covers and grabbed my phone. 53 missed calls and 47 texts… not bad.

I love you, I texted and hit send. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes again as stared into the darkness of my room. John was right after all, I had become such a girl.

It didn’t take long to get an answer, and soon my phone beeped and Pat’s name came on the screen. I love you too, he texted back. That’s when I broke down. My brothers didn’t do anything wrong and I was here, treating them like shit. It wasn’t their fault.

Next morning, when I woke up it was past 3; I didn’t get up, I just rolled to the side, waiting to sleep again.

My phone lit up, showing a new text… from Garrett. The tension was killing me; I wanted to open that text but I didn’t want to open. Does that even make sense?

Quick, light footsteps caught my attention; I stood quiet, trying to find out who was there. They stopped right on my doorstep and stood there.

“Leigh?”

I froze.

“Come on, babe, I know you are there” Garrett whispered, then snorted. “Of course you’re there, I can hear you crying.”

Fucker, what did you expect?

“Amanda, we’re all worried. If that makes you feel better, you can yell at me. Even kill me if you want, but please… just come out.”

I cringed at the sound of his voice. He was pleading, literally. His voice was soft, sad, desperate, only to make everything worse.

“Leigh, please.”

“Go away” I muttered, afraid my voice would crack.

My voice was low, but I’m sure he heard me. His footsteps lightly faded away and I was left alone, again. I curled up in a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I simply stood there, I don’t know for how long, thinking about nothing.

Suddenly, a loud bang came from outside and I jumped, startled.

“Amanda Leigh Kirch, open this door now.”

My dad was raged, I knew that, but I didn’t bother to answer, I just shrunk even more.

“You can’t open it?” I heard Tim ask.

“No, it’s locked from inside. Amanda, open up.”

“Please, Leigh” Pat begged.

“No” I more whined than mumbled.

“Leigh baby, open the door.”

Garrett and his sad voice again; ugh, was he trying to agonize me?

“Fuck off. And don’t call me baby.”

“I give up” my dad said.

After a second, I could hear him going down the stairs.

“At least she talked to you” Pat said.

“Open the damn door now, Amanda” Tim yelled.

I covered my ears with my hands, my fingers tangling into my hair. For sure, they were trying to drive me insane.

“Timothy, be a dear and leave me alone, will you?”

A loud bang came from outside and my door cracked open.

“What the hell did you do?” Pat whispered.

“I didn’t break her door, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Tim pushed my door open and light poured in, hurting my eyes.

“This place looks horrible” he commented. Come on, it wasn’t that bad… It looked like my closet had spat my clothes all over my room and my bed was messed, my blankets and sheets all over the floor.

Tim grabbed my hand and pushed me up, dragging me along with him. I squeezed my eyes shut, squirming; it was so bright outside my room.

“Goddamn, you look awful” Tim commented again.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

“He’s right, Leigh, have you seen yourself today?” Pat asked. I shrugged.

Halfway to the kitchen, Tim stopped in the living room and positioned me in front of the mirror next to the front door.

My usually tanned skin was pale. I had bags under my eyes, matching my dark circles. My hair was messed, with knots everywhere. My slender body was looking fragile under my large clothes. I did look awful.

Garrett stopped behind us, his arms crossed on his chest as he stared at me.

“You look sick” he said quietly.

“Tim, let me go, please. I’m begging you.”

“Eat something first” he said softly.

“Please Tim, I just don’t wanna stay here.”

Tim sighed.

“Gare, please?”

“What? I’m worried as well, Tim and you ask me to leave?”

“Look, I know you care about her, bu-“ Tim said, but Garrett cut him off.

“She’s my girlfriend, wha-“

“Garrett, leave” I said, talking to him for the first time in a week.

“But I-“

“Get the fuck out!” I shouted.

They all jumped, especially Tim who was standing so close to me.

“Hey, hey, easy! What’s going on?” My mom said, rushing to the living room with my dad right after her.

“Mom, get me out of here” I begged, tears falling from my eyes.

“Come here” she whispered, hugging me to her. She led me to the kitchen and we stood in silence for a while.

We heard my dad walk to the kitchen and a door being slammed, seconds later. Pat followed my dad to the kitchen, and sighing, Tim followed him too.

“I think you should talk to Garrett” was the last thing he said.