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Chapter 29

Maddie lost her colors. It didn't happen overnight, I just realize it now. Her pink satchel is the only noticeable thing about her. She's not cheerful and happy when she sees me. This time, she doesn't even smile and I wonder how my parents don't realize. It's so obvious.

The next thing I notice when we're walking up the stairs into her classroom at her school is that she's scratching herself all the time. When I ask her why, she just says she's itching everywhere. When I ask where and how often, she only says everywhere and especially at night. I would probably only get more precise information from a doctor, but my mother will take care of it. Will she? 

I send her a quick message. Maddie told me she was itchy. Have you been to the doctor with her?

I know exactly what's happening to her. It's the slow realization what's actually happening here. At the age of nine, you don't understand that yet. I can't remember the first time because it was almost irrelevant for me back then. The mere thought that it was just a few hand movements was too insignificant at the time. It happened, I did it, and it was over. I mean, it was over until it happened again.

can i ask you something abt medical stuff

Sure

lets talk abt someone

someone is itching and scratching all the time

Where?

everywhere

its worst at night

Rash?

i think not

Could be everything

Dry skin, clothes, maybe a skin disease

I have to look at it

i dont think theres smth to see

I don't know how to help you

Does this someone let me take a look?

nevermind

They should see a dermatologist if it's constant

I give Maddie's teacher the certificate and tell her we went to the doctor yesterday and that she's better now. What a lie. The teacher accepts the lie tough, and I say goodbye to Maddie. Maddie asks me if she can come to see me after school.

"Sure. I'll talk to Mom. I'll text you later, okay?"

When I'm walking out of school I call my mother. I still have more than an hour before I have to go to work. I have no idea if my mother's working and, to be honest, I don't care either. I call her a second time. Then I drive home and make myself a coffee.

What are you doing this evening?

training

Give me times

i work til 6, training starts at 8 probably til 12 not sure yet

6-8?

not coming to ur house

I never said you have to

I need details Oscar

i dont know

maybe taking a nap or just chill

i dont plan every second of my life

So you'll be home for sure

probably

i dont like where this is going

Don't worry about it

My Mom calls me while I'm working and I call her back during break. "Hey."

"Hi Oscar. How are you doing?"

"Did you read my message?" I ask, putting the cigarette between my lips and lighting it, then taking the first drag.

"Oscar," she sighs. "You really don't need to worry about Maddison. It's not that we don't see her." Oh, really? "I made an appointment with the dermatologist."

"Have you been to a doctor?"

"I just told you I made an appointment."

"With the dermatologist. When?"

"End of this month."

"By then you could have gone to another doctor ten times. Maybe they can help her."

My mother is quiet for a moment. "Why don't you mind your own business, Oscar?" she asks. "You don't have to blame me at all. You hardly see your sister. Don't pretend you're suddenly the perfect brother. Maddie's fine, you would know that if you'd come by more often. She won't die until her appointment. It's just a little itchy."

"Maddie's not fine," I say in a firm voice. My fingers tighten around my phone. "If you'd open your eyes and didn't just take care of your successful children, you would have noticed by now. Maddie's not doing well. Not at all."

"You have no clue about Maddison, Oscar. You know nothing about her. She's my daughter and I know her very well to know that she's doing perfectly fine. She's a good student, she's healthy and well-behaved. Don't get involved in something you have no idea about."

"Do you know what David is doing, Mom?" I can't see the world around me because of anger. Everything goes black for a moment, and I don't even hear the words I'm saying next—they just flood out of my mouth. "Do you know that Maddie doesn't like to be at home and doesn't like to go to school either? Do you know that she's scared?"

"What are you talking about?" My mother asks angrily. "Just go back to your stupid dance lessons, Oscar. Your father and I are good parents. I don't need to listen to this shit."

"Yeah," I laugh. "You're amazing parents. I mean, you raised me and I turned out great, didn't I?"

"There's no point in talking to you anymore. I'm hanging up."

She hangs up before I can ask anything else, and it hits me harder than I expected. I know what my mother thinks of me. I know it's not just my insecurities lying to me. I know that she hates what I've become and who I am. But sometimes I lie to myself. Sometimes I tell myself that maybe—maybe she actually has some feelings for me. Maybe she does love me, in her own twisted way. This hits me hard. I wish I had a mother who would say, "Of course you turned out great. I love you." But I guess that will never happen.

But whatever. This is not about me. I should be over this shit. I should have fucking learned my lesson by now. This is about Maddie. Maddie is the one in danger. Maddie is the victim, not me. Maddie is the one who can't protect herself. So I decide to swallow my pride and ask my mother via chat.

can maddie come to my place after school

she wanted to

ok, my mother answered.