⚠️in case anyone missed it, I updated this a few days ago⚠️
CHAPTER 5.
The thing about people is that we aren't perfect, which won't come as a surprise to most. We hurt those we love whether it's purposeful or accidental. We destroy what we don't understand, and shun what we do. We forget our past, and forget those who disappear from our sight. And most of all, we lie. We lie to others, but more than anything, we lie to ourselves. We say that it will be all right when we know that it won't, we say we can change when we know we can't. And we delude ourselves into thinking we're good... when we know we aren't.
Nothing says dysfunctional family like a tense and silent meal between people who really don't want to be here. Whenever anyone fights or has an argument, my mother likes to pretend like nothing's wrong, even when something is very obviously wrong. She still acts like she's living in a fishbowl, like she still has to be perfect all the time. That's what she projects to those watching her, few as they are. I watch her from my seat next to Anthony's, she's just sitting there, diligently eating broccoli and black eyed peas. My father sits next to her, and his plate is already clean. Half of me wants to ask why they fought, while the other half wants to ask my mother why she hasn't made him leave yet. I scrape up the last of my peas and push away from the table, my chair making loud screeching sounds as I do. I don't ask if I can be excused before I swiftly make my way to the sink in the kitchen. I turn on the tap and curse as the water sputters to life and sprays in all directions, soaking the front of my dress as it does. I close my eyes instinctively and sheild my face with my arms just as a pair of strong hands shut off the water. "Dally, are you okay?" I open my eyes to find my dad soaked through with water, his hand resting gently on my arm. "I'm fine." I snap, shrugging out of his grip, and turning on my heel. I don't know where the hell I think i'm going, but regardless of that fact, I find myself sprinting down the road. The clouds gather overhead and I wonder- not for the first time- if this is my life now. Will I always be running out of my house, trying to escape one betrayal after another. Will I always be such a coward that I can't even face my own family? I don't know the answer, but I do know that as of now, there is only one person who I want to see.
I'm outside the window, my hands gripping the trellis as I deftly ascend. I reach the window, slipping my fingers under the sill and lifting the pane. I slip through the open window and creep down the hallway unnoticed. My hand is on the handle, and yet I can't bring myself to turn it. I close my eyes tightly, and push. The door opens soundlessly. I walk through the empty room, stopping when the vanity siting against the wall catches my eye. There's a picture of two girls with missing teeth and pigtail braids, one with blonde hair, the other with raven hair. I smile, surprised that it's still here after all this time. Shaking my head, I kick off my boots, moving towards the purple canopied bed. I slip under the covers, and pull my knees to my chest. It wasn't long before I heard the door open, heard the soft footsteps that I know by heart, heard the gentle breathing of someone getting closer, felt the creaking of the bed as they crawled up behind me and wrapped their arms around me. I breath in her familiar scent of honeysuckle and violets, and I can't stop the tears that fall from my eyes, wracking my body with each wave of hurt that washes over me. Hurt from Rachel and Anthony, hurt from my dad... and hurt from me. It feels endless, it feels hopeless. Rachel brushes my hair back from my face, wiping away the tears that keep streaming down my face. "Shhh, it's okay... everything is going to be okay." I almost laugh at the hilarity of the situation. The girl that I supposedly hate, is the one comforting me when I feel lost and a scared. Just like she always has. I eventually stopped crying and Rachel gave me a bag of jelly bellies. We haven't talked yet, and she's busying herself by braiding my hair into a crown. I'm sitting on the floor with by back to her bed while she sits behind me on the edge of her bed. "So," she begins. "How did you get in? I know you didn't use the front door, my whole family would have seen you if you had." "So your parents are home?" I ask, hoping to distract her from her own question. "Yes, but that's beside the point." I sigh, tipping back my head to glare at her. She laughs, pushing my head away. "I climbed in through the upstairs window." I answer, cleaning my nails while I wait for her reaction. "You would make a great theif." I laugh, flicking her leg. "Ow! So violent." She says it like it's an insult, but I know she's smiling. "I guess all those years of gymnastics paid off, huh." "Yeah, and figure skating." "Didn't your dad get you into that when you were like four?" "Three, actually." "Why?" "He said I had 'potential,' or something like that." "How long did you do it?" "Fourteen years and counting." Her hands pause and she asks. "How come you're still doing it, and how come I never knew? I thought you quit years ago." "I did quit, but then I realized that I actually loved it and I missed it when I wasn't skating. And you didn't know I still skated because if you did then it wouldn't be my happy place anymore." I watch her face to gouge her reaction, but she looks completely unbothered. "Then can I ask why you quit gymnastics?" She taps my shoulder, letting me know she's done with my braid crown. I climb back onto the bed, smoothing my still-soaked dress around me. "I got bored, and I wanted to learn ballroom dance." I say, finally answering her question. "Yeah, that tracks." She says in mock seriousness. "That was a joke, I just decided I was tired of spraining my wrists all the time." I roll my eyes, grabbing the bag of jelly bellies from the floor and picking out the popcorn flavor to give to her. "Aren't you going to ask?" I look at her, waiting for her to ask me why i came here. "Not if you don't want me to." I give her a look, because we both know that that has never stopped her before. She sighs, stretching out on the bed. "Fine, since you clearly want me to ask, i will kindly oblige." I wait expectantly while she prop herself up on her arms, her head resting in her hands. "What happened Dally?" I told her everything. And for a while, it felt like there was nothing broken between us. But like all false things, it crumbled away, revealing the truth beneath the facade. We sit there like that, skating around what we both know we need to talk about, pretending like everything is fine between us. And then we stopped pretending. "Do you hate me?" She asks quietly, like she's scared of the answer. Maybe she is... maybe we both are. I take a while to think before answering. "No, I don't think that's possible." She sags in relief. "Then have you forgiven me yet?" "I don't know."
I close the door to her room, boots in hand, and I stand in the dark hallway. I should go home, I should go home and apologize for running, I should go home, I should go home... but I don't want to. I open my eyes and the bathroom door. I was about to slip out through the window when I heard the door to Luca's room open. I freeze, not sure if I want to be found or not. Whatever I would have decided is pointless now, because Luca is looking at me from the doorway, a mixture worry, shock, and trepidation on his face. "Are you sneaking in through the bathroom window?" He asks with raised eyebrows. "Actually, I was sneaking out through the bathroom window." I say with a smirk on my lips as I brush past him and into his room. "How long have you been here?" He asks as he trails after me. "Eh, not long, an hour or two." I drop my boots unceremoniously onto the floor and plop down on his bed, smiling up at him as he shuts the door and sits on the bed next to me, hugging my waist. "Were you talking to Rachel?" He asks. "Yes." I murmur. "I thought you hated her?" It wasn't a question, but I answer it anyway. "I do, but she's been my best friend for the last eleven years. That kind of bond can't be broken overnight. At least not completely." "Did you forgive her?" I shift my body to look at him, and frown at his question. "Have you forgiven Anthony yet?" He smiles sadly, and I know the answer. "So I guess you have your answer now."
As much as I would have preferred to stay with Luca and complain about my life, I knew that I had to go back home. If not because I wanted to, then because I had to. And if not for my sake, then for my mother's. I didn't bother to put my shoes back on when I left their house, so when I walked through my front door my feet are slippery on the wood floor. I walk through the house until I reach the back door in the corner of the living room, I slide open the door and step into the backyard. My dad is sitting in a lounge chair in the middle of the fenced in yard watching the sky. The grass is damp and soft under my bare feet, tickling them as I walk. "Hey dad."
![claire! [school semi-hiatus] | 457 comments](https://images.gr-assets.com/users/1757026091p1/180472284.jpg)
CHAPTER 5.
The thing about people is that we aren't perfect, which won't come as a surprise to most. We hurt those we love whether it's purposeful or accidental. We destroy what we don't understand, and shun what we do. We forget our past, and forget those who disappear from our sight. And most of all, we lie. We lie to others, but more than anything, we lie to ourselves. We say that it will be all right when we know that it won't, we say we can change when we know we can't. And we delude ourselves into thinking we're good... when we know we aren't.
Nothing says dysfunctional family like a tense and silent meal between people who really don't want to be here.
Whenever anyone fights or has an argument, my mother likes to pretend like nothing's wrong, even when something is very obviously wrong.
She still acts like she's living in a fishbowl, like she still has to be perfect all the time. That's what she projects to those watching her, few as they are. I watch her from my seat next to Anthony's, she's just sitting there, diligently eating broccoli and black eyed peas. My father sits next to her, and his plate is already clean. Half of me wants to ask why they fought, while the other half wants to ask my mother why she hasn't made him leave yet. I scrape up the last of my peas and push away from the table, my chair making loud screeching sounds as I do. I don't ask if I can be excused before I swiftly make my way to the sink in the kitchen. I turn on the tap and curse as the water sputters to life and sprays in all directions, soaking the front of my dress as it does. I close my eyes instinctively and sheild my face with my arms just as a pair of strong hands shut off the water. "Dally, are you okay?" I open my eyes to find my dad soaked through with water, his hand resting gently on my arm. "I'm fine." I snap, shrugging out of his grip, and turning on my heel.
I don't know where the hell I think i'm going, but regardless of that fact, I find myself sprinting down the road. The clouds gather overhead and I wonder- not for the first time- if this is my life now. Will I always be running out of my house, trying to escape one betrayal after another. Will I always be such a coward that I can't even face my own family? I don't know the answer, but I do know that as of now, there is only one person who I want to see.
I'm outside the window, my hands gripping the trellis as I deftly ascend. I reach the window, slipping my fingers under the sill and lifting the pane. I slip through the open window and creep down the hallway unnoticed. My hand is on the handle, and yet I can't bring myself to turn it. I close my eyes tightly, and push. The door opens soundlessly. I walk through the empty room, stopping when the vanity siting against the wall catches my eye. There's a picture of two girls with missing teeth and pigtail braids, one with blonde hair, the other with raven hair. I smile, surprised that it's still here after all this time. Shaking my head, I kick off my boots, moving towards the purple canopied bed. I slip under the covers, and pull my knees to my chest.
It wasn't long before I heard the door open, heard the soft footsteps that I know by heart, heard the gentle breathing of someone getting closer, felt the creaking of the bed as they crawled up behind me and wrapped their arms around me. I breath in her familiar scent of honeysuckle and violets, and I can't stop the tears that fall from my eyes, wracking my body with each wave of hurt that washes over me. Hurt from Rachel and Anthony, hurt from my dad... and hurt from me. It feels endless, it feels hopeless. Rachel brushes my hair back from my face, wiping away the tears that keep streaming down my face. "Shhh, it's okay... everything is going to be okay." I almost laugh at the hilarity of the situation. The girl that I supposedly hate, is the one comforting me when I feel lost and a scared. Just like she always has.
I eventually stopped crying and Rachel gave me a bag of jelly bellies. We haven't talked yet, and she's busying herself by braiding my hair into a crown. I'm sitting on the floor with by back to her bed while she sits behind me on the edge of her bed. "So," she begins. "How did you get in? I know you didn't use the front door, my whole family would have seen you if you had." "So your parents are home?" I ask, hoping to distract her from her own question. "Yes, but that's beside the point." I sigh, tipping back my head to glare at her. She laughs, pushing my head away. "I climbed in through the upstairs window." I answer, cleaning my nails while I wait for her reaction. "You would make a great theif." I laugh, flicking her leg. "Ow! So violent." She says it like it's an insult, but I know she's smiling. "I guess all those years of gymnastics paid off, huh." "Yeah, and figure skating." "Didn't your dad get you into that when you were like four?" "Three, actually." "Why?" "He said I had 'potential,' or something like that." "How long did you do it?" "Fourteen years and counting." Her hands pause and she asks. "How come you're still doing it, and how come I never knew? I thought you quit years ago." "I did quit, but then I realized that I actually loved it and I missed it when I wasn't skating. And you didn't know I still skated because if you did then it wouldn't be my happy place anymore." I watch her face to gouge her reaction, but she looks completely unbothered. "Then can I ask why you quit gymnastics?" She taps my shoulder, letting me know she's done with my braid crown. I climb back onto the bed, smoothing my still-soaked dress around me. "I got bored, and I wanted to learn ballroom dance." I say, finally answering her question. "Yeah, that tracks." She says in mock seriousness. "That was a joke, I just decided I was tired of spraining my wrists all the time." I roll my eyes, grabbing the bag of jelly bellies from the floor and picking out the popcorn flavor to give to her. "Aren't you going to ask?" I look at her, waiting for her to ask me why i came here. "Not if you don't want me to." I give her a look, because we both know that that has never stopped her before. She sighs, stretching out on the bed. "Fine, since you clearly want me to ask, i will kindly oblige." I wait expectantly while she prop herself up on her arms, her head resting in her hands. "What happened Dally?"
I told her everything. And for a while, it felt like there was nothing broken between us. But like all false things, it crumbled away, revealing the truth beneath the facade.
We sit there like that, skating around what we both know we need to talk about, pretending like everything is fine between us.
And then we stopped pretending.
"Do you hate me?" She asks quietly, like she's scared of the answer. Maybe she is... maybe we both are. I take a while to think before answering. "No, I don't think that's possible." She sags in relief. "Then have you forgiven me yet?" "I don't know."
I close the door to her room, boots in hand, and I stand in the dark hallway. I should go home, I should go home and apologize for running, I should go home, I should go home... but I don't want to. I open my eyes and the bathroom door. I was about to slip out through the window when I heard the door to Luca's room open. I freeze, not sure if I want to be found or not. Whatever I would have decided is pointless now, because Luca is looking at me from the doorway, a mixture worry, shock, and trepidation on his face.
"Are you sneaking in through the bathroom window?" He asks with raised eyebrows. "Actually, I was sneaking out through the bathroom window." I say with a smirk on my lips as I brush past him and into his room. "How long have you been here?" He asks as he trails after me. "Eh, not long, an hour or two." I drop my boots unceremoniously onto the floor and plop down on his bed, smiling up at him as he shuts the door and sits on the bed next to me, hugging my waist. "Were you talking to Rachel?" He asks. "Yes." I murmur. "I thought you hated her?" It wasn't a question, but I answer it anyway. "I do, but she's been my best friend for the last eleven years. That kind of bond can't be broken overnight. At least not completely." "Did you forgive her?" I shift my body to look at him, and frown at his question. "Have you forgiven Anthony yet?" He smiles sadly, and I know the answer. "So I guess you have your answer now."
As much as I would have preferred to stay with Luca and complain about my life, I knew that I had to go back home. If not because I wanted to, then because I had to. And if not for my sake, then for my mother's.
I didn't bother to put my shoes back on when I left their house, so when I walked through my front door my feet are slippery on the wood floor. I walk through the house until I reach the back door in the corner of the living room, I slide open the door and step into the backyard. My dad is sitting in a lounge chair in the middle of the fenced in yard watching the sky.
The grass is damp and soft under my bare feet, tickling them as I walk. "Hey dad."