The Boys, the Girls

“Carmen,” She found herself in a dark corridor that was empty except for her presence. There were no windows, no doors, no light fixtures; no decorations of any kind. “Carmen,” A voice called out from down the hall. She felt herself begin to walk towards it aimlessly. Slowly the hallway began to fill up with a soft, sliver of light.

She continued to walk on, until she came to a window where she could see out into the night. Rain fell from the dark, cloudy sky that covered the sky, blocking the stars and the moon that was still managing to cast a glow through the window. Large trees filled the area outside the window, bare and gnarled together.

There was a window seat that was adorned by red seat cushions and decorated by black, satin pillows that made you want to lie down on them with just one look. “Carmen,” the voice called out again. She studied the window seat for a moment, confused by the strong calling it was throwing out to her. “You know you want to,” the voice whispered encouragingly. She turned around, trying to find where the voice was coming from, but found no one. “Go on, Carmen.” The voice whispered again.

She felt herself crawl onto the seat and curl up against the pillows. She sat there, watching the rain fall over the trees. Moments passed before she felt a presence behind her. She went to turn to look over her shoulder at who it was but a strong, strangely comforting, pair of hands rested themselves on her shoulders stopping her. The hands were cold and calloused, and Carmen could tell they belonged to a man.

She felt them roam over her shoulders, neck, and run their fingers through her hair. “You’re so close, Carmen.” She leaned into the man’s embrace, feeling him pull her to him. “So close.” He repeated in a whisper in her ear, his fingers tracing the dip into her shoulder with his thumb. She hummed in content – just as her alarm woke her up.

Carmen groaned and flopped over onto her stomach. “Come on, Carmen!” Kimberly called out from her room.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Carmen groaned out as she pulled herself from her bed. She lugged her still half asleep body to her bathroom to start getting ready, deciding to dwell on the strange dream later.
X
“So, what do you think?” Carmen heard her sister ask. She turned to look at her sister.

“What do I think of what?” Carmen asked confused.

“My outfit,” Kimberly gestured to the cream dress that went to just above her knee that she had paired with a red blazer that cuffed at her elbows, a pair of red peep-toe wedge sandals, and a thin red belt that was fastened around her waist. “Do you think mom–”

“Kim,” Carmen deadpanned, “Mom’s never happy.”

“Don’t call me Kim,” Kimberly snapped angrily. The dark haired girl heaved a sad sigh and looked down at her outfit with a barely noticeable pout. Carmen smiled sadly at her sister. She knew the girl always tried so hard with her outfits when they went to meet up with their mother. It wasn’t her fault that their mother was never happy with their appearance – or anything they did, for that matter.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t look beautiful, hun,” Carmen told her sister as she brought her in for a hug. “Mom’s just a bitch.”

“Carmen,” Kimberly chastised weakly. Carmen gave her sister a lopsided smile and a shrug, silently saying, ‘I can’t help it.’

“Come on,” Carmen told her sister as she headed for the front door. “We can’t be late.” Kimberly nodded and followed her sister out to the car.
X
Carmen took a sip of her coffee attempting to appear as if she were listening to her mother prattle on about how her new boyfriend and how much money he had. Carmen tried to behave at the brunches with her mother, for Kimberly’s sake, but once the snide comments about Carmen’s wardrobe began, it was hard to control her temper.

Ever since Carmen could pick out her own clothes and dress herself, her mother had never approved of her style. Even now, her collared, sleeveless, denim dress that she had paired with a fuchsia, waterfall, open, cropped blazer that’s sleeves went to her elbows, a pair of strappy, hot pink , wedge sandals, and a white belt fastened around her dress at her waist was being leered at every time her mother looked at her. It was probably because of the denim dress more than anything.

Just as her mother was about to ask Carmen a question (something with an underlying insult, no doubt), a boy dressed in in tight pants and a band t-shirt, the time bounded by their table and knocked over Kimberly’s drink onto their mother’s skirt. Carmen tried to hold back her laughter as their mother furiously wiped at her clothes in attempt to dry it off. Her face was twisted into once of anger and annoyance, and Carmen knew a rant about the youth of today was coming. Carmen watched the faces that entailed she was mentally bracing herself for the rant, as she did the same.

When Carmen and Kimberly’s parents got a divorce, Carmen immediately took her father’s side. Kimberly had been too young to understand what was going on, and Carmen hadn’t understood most of it either, but she knew her mother was at fault.

Her father had been the kindest man in the world. He had treated her mother, her sister, and herself like queens. The woman was never happy, though, and felt that her children were absorbing attention she deserved to be getting. Granted, her father hadn’t realized the woman felt like that until he had caught her in the act of trying to get rid of their children.

When that happened, Frank, her father, filed for a divorce, and Marie screamed herself hoarse at the top of her lungs at the man she had been married to for the past seven years. She yelled about how he gave more attention to their children than he did to her, said that it was unfair treatment because she was his wife. He had just given her a soft glare and told her that it wouldn’t be that way for much longer. He had then taken Carmen and Kimberly out for ice cream and tried to explain to them what was going on.

Carmen and Kimberly had understood to the best of their seven- and five-year-old abilities. Her father won full custody over his daughter, seeing as the judge found Marie to be an unfit paren. They would see her once a month for a meal, but their relationship with her then wasn’t much different than it was now.

Their relationship with their father, though, had been strained when he started having women move in and out of their house constantly once the girls reached their teen years. They knew he had done it so they would have some form of mother figure, but the girls weren’t the type of female role models they needed. More often than not, they were skinny, peroxide blonde women that had gotten nose jobs, and almost all of the time they were attempting to get to his money.

Eventually, when the man realized this, he became very bitter and was no longer the kindhearted, caring man he had once been. He shut himself off from people, and eventually, the girls’ relationship with him became just as strained as their relationship with their mother.

“Mom,” she heard Kimberly snap slightly, and Carmen looked over at their mother to see she had been about to yank one of her curls. Carmen looked away from her mother and glanced at her watch. Carmen heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of the clock reading 12:30, she could leave.

Carmen stood, grabbing her things, and turned to her mother, “Sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

“I’m sure whatever it is you’ve got to do isn’t important enough for you to not finish your meal.” Marie remarked in a belittling tone. Translation: I’m sure whatever it is you do with your life isn’t as important as the honor of getting to spend time with me.

Carmen rolled her eyes, glanced at Kimberly to see she had gathered her things also, and began heading for the door. “Nice seeing you,” Kimberly muttered half–heartedly and Carmen gave a lazy wave without looking back.

When she reached the car, Carmen crawled into the driver seat and started the car. Kimberly crawled in soon after, and when her younger sister was buckled, Carmen drove off, neither of them speaking of the meal that just past.