The Fall Of Edith

Chapter 6

It's getting colder outside, people on the street are wearing gloves and giant coats that seem to swallow them up entirely. Trees are completely bare now, stripped of each and every leaf. I'm in my room packing my bag. It's the 20th of December and I'll be going home to spend the holidays in Coventry. My dad called me a couple of days ago to invite me to stay at his place in Chicago over Christmas. It wasn't a real invitation though. When I spoke to him on the phone he said 

"I know you will probably spend Christmas with your mother, anyways, I just wanted to let you know you're always welcome here too". 

He didn't sound British at all anymore, thick American accent slicing through, drawing out his r's and a's. He also sent me some pictures of their house. I imagined it to be one of those typical American family homes, maybe red brick, with small garden and garage. But it's a boxy modern looking flat-top in white, there's a cliché LED Santa glowing red and white on their porch. I wonder if his wife Charlotte is a Christmas enthusiast, since I could never imagine my dad caring enough to buy decorations. Apart from the Santa it actually looks comfortable and beautiful with tiny fairy lights and a white paper lantern in front of their garage entry. It's in a neighbourhood called Forest Glen and according to my dad there's an actual forest where you can sometimes see deer and rabbits. It's also very close to the beach and seaside. Seeing that, I was so envious, he must have felt my jealousy dripping off his phone screen. 

Even though I would've rather gone to Chicago, it was clear from the beginning that I wouldn't. It's one of my moms strict traditions to not go anywhere other than Coventry for the Christmas holidays. If I went to my dad instead it would've broken her heart. I throw a skirt and two sweatpants into my bag. I don't think I will need more than one proper outfit. I look around my apartment and take in all the clutter and dust. I haven't used my vacuum cleaner much since that day I bought it instead of Mauricio's phone.

 I put on some music and try to clean up, but in the end I just throw some biscuit wrappers into the trash and then leave it at that. I scroll through my phone, there's still a flood of random males, but it keeps receding. I wonder how long it would take until my phone is empty again. I still haven't been to university and the first trimester is already over now. Unfortunately I made the mistake of telling my mom the truth, she asked me how uni was going and I said "uh, I don't know, I haven't been there much" After that she gave me a stern look "Edith, you have to do something with your life, you're going to end up on the streets in no time, believe me." Whenever she calls me by my name instead of just "honey" it's always a bad sign. Then she decided I should get a job to make up for the lack of interest I'm showing in my English Literature education. 

"Find yourself a job or I will tell Spencer to cut your pocket money. What is he even paying for?" 

I groaned in exasperation and she shot me an angry look. She always brings up my dad and his money whenever there's something she wants me to do or not do. "I mean it, Edith. And I just want your best, you know that" Adding that last statement seemed like a joke to me so I snorted out loud. I wish I hadn't told her anything at all, wish I had kept it all inside. With my mom it happens a lot that I feel comfortable enough to confide in her and then as soon as I confess something she pulls the rug and just snaps at me in anger and I regret every syllable I said to her. 

I actually did look for a job though, thought it may be a good way to find some people to talk to and maybe connect to the world a little more. I took the first job I found. So since late November I've been working as a cashier in a small restaurant. It's a self service system, so people come to me to pay and then grab whatever they want to eat or drink. It's just part-time, I have three shifts a week, but it's draining all my energy. I'm by far the youngest in the team. There are two managers who are around forty and then there are the other cashiers, who are all middle-aged women. One of them studies Astrology for fun, the other two both have kids at home and drive thirty minutes by train to the restaurant every day just to work their shifts. There's nothing I have in common with them, so even on the busier days when we are two cashiers sitting next to each other behind the counter, we rarely ever chat. Usually I sit at home contemplating quitting, cursing this job, crying with anxiety until ten minutes before my shift, then I walk five minutes up the street to the restaurant, work the six hours through my shift while staring at my phone screen under the till, counting the seconds until I can go home again and wrap myself into my beautiful darkness. After I'm done with my shift and the manager comes up to tell me the magical words "Edith, you can go" I always feel light and careless, like someone opened my cage and set me free. Then I wander around the cold, dark streets, let my mind fly like an air balloon.