Forelsket

I woke up with his voice floating in the room. It’s a whisper that seems to come to me in a scream. I woke up, heart racing, covers thrown about on my bed. I whispered a demand. I told him to shut up. But he only responded with:

”Just like this, peanut.” I grabbed a pillow from behind me, wrapped it around my head, in attempt to get his old, worn voice from the confinements of my brain. To keep it from bouncing around in my skull. I breathed hard, squeezing my eyes shut, tightly. His voice, eventually, drifted out of the open window and disappeared into the Arizona heat. And I hope it sizzles out there; I hope it dies.

I let my body fall back onto my bed, and watched my window. There was something about the stream of sunlight that poured through the square-shaped opening that put me at ease. I lay on my side and watched it become brighter. I found a light smile somewhere within me, but it was fought with a surprised jump as my door flung open. I looked over at her, Lindsay, she had her hands on her hips, and was just looking at me.

“Mom’s been calling you, for, like, five minutes.” She snorted. I nodded, gave a small sigh and stood up, making sure to pull on an over-sized hooded sweater and sweat pants. It was hot in Arizona, yes, but Grandpa, although sick, was still living here. And, I could hear his wheezing cough already. It echoed through the house, slapped me in the face. I swallowed a lump in my throat and slowly made my way down the stairs.

I saw his thinning white hair when I stepped into the kitchen. His jaw moved slowly to chew on his eggs. I kept my head down after that, walking passed him and quickly grabbing two pieces of toast, quietly thanking mom for making them the way I liked them. Butter, Jam.

I took a seat next to my father, hoping his frame would somewhat cover me. I, ever since the day I realized how wrong it really was, had done everything I could to make myself as little as possible. My family didn’t really seem to notice, or mind much. I quietly munched on my toast while they began to talk amongst themselves. They were concerned with my grandfather, my mother telling him she was going to make a doctors appointment for him. He refused a million times, plus one. He hated doctors. But, mom was mom, and she made it clear that he was going.

My family seemed to move around me in the next couple of minutes. I felt stuck on the kitchen chair, while my mom stood up, grabbing the emptied plates and placing them into the dishwasher. My dad closed his newspaper after the crossword was completed, Lindsay skipped out the front door – probably to see her boyfriend – and Grandpa took the newspaper into his hands.

He covered his mouth with his fist as he coughed, his potbelly jiggling in response to the movement. I cringed, looking down at my lap.

“Annaliese?” I looked up at my mother and her lips held a small frown. She leaned against the counter and cocked her head to the side, a hand on her hip. “You okay, honey?” She asked me this on some occasions, spanning over the passed couple of months. Her brown eyes held curiosity and – feeling my grandfathers’ eyes on me – I shrugged, adding a nod on to the end.

She crumpled her face saying, “okay.” In a wavering tone. I stood up suddenly, causing the chair to scrape against the floor, and I began to make my way upstairs, to my room.

“Where’re you goin’, Peanut?” Goose bumps littered my body, stiffening me into place. I recover shortly after, but I don’t answer him.

I hate myself for making him do this to me.

*

I often get bitched at for taking long showers – my dad jokes about it, though. Asks me if I fall asleep in there. I push out a smile and usually just nod. My mother, however, tells me to stop wasting the water – tells me that ‘what if someone else wanted to take a shower?’. They’d be stuck with only a few minutes of hot water. Lindsay, well, she doesn’t care unless she needs a shower. She’s out now, though, so it wasn’t her who banged on the door.

“Annaliese,” My mother huffed, “these water bills cost a lot of money.” She liked to remind me of that often. Everything cost a lot of money. That was what she said if she thought anyone in this house was wasting something. I ignored her, but made it a point to finish up in the next thirty seconds. I pull my robe on tightly, around my reddened body, comforted that, washed away by the water, were skin cells that had been shed in the process of my washing.

I opened the door, shivering from being away from the hot water. I made my way to my room, the old mans wheezing cough following me down the hall. I sped up my walk, close the door quickly behind me; lay my back against it as hard as I can. I only managed to calm down once I remember that grandfather never came upstairs anymore – at least, not during the day.

I carefully inched away from the door, wishing that, when I asked for a lock my dad had okay-ed it. He’d said' why?', all skeptically, and I couldn’t answer him in truth, so I just shrugged. 'Annaliese, you are my daughter, and I know how being a teenager is – you can’t have a lock on your door'. It’s ironic, isn’t it? Just a few years before I’d asked for the lock (I was fifteen when I asked), I’d already lost what my dad was trying to protect. I wanted a lock to keep people out.

And, at eighteen, sans a boyfriend (never even had one) and friends, he still hadn’t trusted me enough to buy me a lock for my door.

I sighed, and slipped into various items of clothing, only to sit on my bed, hands in my lap. And I just stared at the opposite side of my room, and I bit on my bottom lip. I don’t know how long I had sat like that before I was brought back down to earth as I heard the doorknob turning. My breath was instantly caught, and I waited to see who it was.

I let out my breath as I said his name, “Jared.” My eyes fall closed and I shook my head at myself. I hate being paranoid. He gave me a smile and looked around my room, shaking his head at me afterwards.

“Knew you’d be in, Annaliese,” he said, “You know, we live in Arizona. And you’re really fucking white. It’s not natural.” I glared at him and stood up from my bed, smoothing out my navy-blue-with-flowers sundress.

Okay. I supposed I had one friend, but even Jared – who was actually my cousin – didn’t know everything about me. He knew the surface, though, and he seemed to stick around. I guess, for Jared, the surface was enough for him.

But he was right – I was pale, and I barely ever got out of the house. I spent my days mostly locked up in this room. I only – on very rare occasions – went out for a walk, alone. But, I could stay in bed all day. And I would – did most of the time.

“Thank you, Jared.” He shrugged, standing there with a smile on his face. I began to walk towards him, grabbing my cell phone on the way out.

“Walk, then?” Because that’s what we did. Honestly, I think he was told by my mother to hang out with me. I think she told him I didn’t have any friends, and that’s why he was here. He took pity on me or something – I could be wrong, of course. But I wouldn’t really put that passed my mother.

He shook his head today though.

“I’ve got something else planned.” I let my head tilt to the side, the muscles in my face relaxing. It was a rather unpleasant face, and it had made me look like some sort of troll. It was just ugly – but that was my unimpressed face.

“What?” I asked, nearly through my teeth. He’s attempted this before, once. But, really, all I’m up for is a walk. I don’t want to meet his friends that he says I have to meet. People aren’t really a comfort for me – it’s a wonder I even go on walks with Jared. That I even trust him.

He shrugged at me, again. I rolled my eyes. “Guess you’ll have to see.”

“You know I hate surprises, Jared.” I sighed, and followed him out of my room, down the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Liese,” he said, “I’ll keep you safe.” He made a move to put his arm around me, and I quickly turn to look at him. And I can feel the fear written on my face and he can see it, so he puts his arm down.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I forgot.” My body is nearly in shakes from the almost contact, but his sentence rings in my mind.

I’ll keep you safe.

Grandfather used to say that to me, too.