Spirals

within these values

There was something small within me that protested, something small that felt warm. It was small but it was strong enough to break through the thick constant of numbness. I wanted so badly to be free of the past that haunted me and the future that looked so dreadfully fruitless, but the small thing within me grew the more I focused on it, and I realized that it wanted me to remember one last thing before I left. I thought about the gun again and again until I decided that I could wait to clear my head, and I took a breath and lowered the gun and brought one last memory up.

I saw myself sitting with my little sisters in their room. The door was closed, the house was silent, the sun was down, and their laptops were closed. They were sitting on the floor next to me, and I held them each in a one-armed hug, and one of them was crying, and the other quiet and stone faced. It was silent because my parents had argued some hours before and went into separate rooms afterward. That afternoon, a man came to knock at our door, and after he left, my father went to have a serious talk with my mother and the serious talk became a serious yelling match. I went to my little sisters' room to keep them company, and my older sister left the house for the night.

I let it be silent for a while, and then they asked me if we were truly about to become homeless.

I told them that I didn't know.

They asked me if we were out of money, and I thought for a moment and told them that I believed so. They asked me why, and I told them that my father lost his job when our mother couldn't keep one and that our money wasn't used right. Then they asked me how they should help earn money for mother and father, and they grew excited before I could even answer them, and they talked about selling their things and selling lemonade and making jewelry from beads and making tye-dye shirts for people. They wanted to start immediately, and my little sister Trinity wiped her eyes and my little sister Ariana got up and rummaged around for crafts.

"We can make necklaces now," said Ariana. "We can sell them and make enough to help Mom and Dad!"

"How much," Trinity asked, "do Mom and Dad owe the house people?"

I remembered sitting still, hurting, watching them build up hope, wondering if I should lie to them.

"It's a big number," I said.

"How big of a number?"

"Around... ten thousand."

I remembered them drooping, their excitement gone into dread.

"We would have to sell thousands of items to pay off the house," I said. "And we'd have to sell hundreds before this year ends to avoid foreclosure."

"What," said Trinity, "is foreclosure?"

She was still next to me, and I held her closer because I could feel her growing tense.

"That means homelessness."

Ariana sat down in front of me and held her head in her hands, tearing up. My sisters sat in silence as the weight of what was happening sank in.

"Why aren't you sad?" Ariana asked, puffing her cheeks in frustration. "You're saying we can't do anything. You're saying... we..." Her sentence trailed off, and she wiped her eyes and crossed her arms. "Do you care?"

"I care," I said. "I'm sad too. I'm not old enough to work, and it's too cold outside to be selling things on the street." I sighed. "All we can really do is wait to grow up and watch so we can be different. And maybe we can help around the house more so Mom and Dad don't gotta stress as much."

"I'm gonna do more than that," said Ariana. "I'm gonna go to school and sell a bunch of drinks and make a bunch of necklaces for people. I'm not weak! I can do it."

I sat and watched her face, and I knew she didn't really believe what she was saying. I remembered thinking over my words, holding Trinity, listening to the house's silence and feeling my own grief. Then I said, tiredly:

"You don't have to be strong all the time, Ariana."

"You're being stupid," she retorted. "You just wanna stop me from helping."

"I wanna stop you from digging yourself into a hole," I said. "You can sell whatever you want, but... please. Do it for yourself. Do it to buy yourself something nice if we end up moving for a while, or to save up if we don't. But I don't wanna see you try to become an adult right now. Do you wanna do things like Mom and Dad while going to school and doing kid things too?"

Ariana thought for a second and shook her head, and I remembered seeing her quiver and cry, and I remembered feeling my own hurt stirring inside of me.

"I wanna be strong for Mom and Dad," she said.

"You don't have to be strong all the time," I repeated. "This is big, right? So it's okay to let go for a bit. Come here."

She came closer to me, and I held her as she cried for some time. Trinity had fallen asleep and I set her down gently on the floor, and I held Ariana close with both arms and hoped she felt safer that way.

After a while, she looked up at me and asked:

"What about you?"

I remembered being caught off-guard and tensing up. I was in pain. I was in pain and I wanted to cry because I wished that there was something I could do to stop my parents from fighting or stop them from losing jobs or stop my mother from drinking or stop the bank from sending things to the house again and again. I wanted to cry but I couldn't until I was sure my sisters felt safe. I needed to be strong for them until they were safe in their beds and I was safe in mine.

"Hey," I whispered, "don't worry about it. I'll be alright."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Super sure?"

I chuckled quietly. "I don't think I'm super anything. But I'll be fine. You believe me?"

"Yeah. I believe you."

I let her back away from me then, and she crawled into bed, sniffling. I woke Trinity up and told her to get in bed, and then I got up myself and went to leave.

Ariana tossed her covers up and peeked at me from beneath them.

"Aiden?"

"What's up?"

"I love you."

"Love you too." I gave her a tight smile and shut off the lights. "Goodnight y'all."

"Goodnight," they murmured together.