We Are Home

chapter 2

The walk home was riddled with boredom and a winter wind, even though it didn't get too cold here in this season. I wished that I had taken longer on that walk, because I arrived home to a complete disaster.

I heard the shouting before I opened the door, which was unlocked, even though I was positive that I had locked it as I left this morning. I could distinguish three voices-one of them my aunt's cracking, rough one. All three voices were raised in volume. A distracted part of my mind wondered if any of the neighbors were in their homes, complaining.

Before I entered the house, I braced myself. It was my aunt's trashy and complete disgusting boyfriend that I suspected owned the male voice. The other unfamiliar one was female, so I had no idea whose that was, but the boyfriend, Fred, tended to get violent. Probably because May was constantly cheating on him, not that it was any excuse for his awful behavior.

When I stepped foot into the house, I was met with a scene which had never actually crossed my mind, even briefly.

My parents were standing in the ratty family room, yelling at Aunt May. I didn't recognize them by some magical, familial bond. Years after they had left, I had searched them up on the internet. There successful business information had been accompanied by professionally taken head-shots. That had been before I decided to regard them as complete strangers. I recognized my mother's (or, rather, the stranger who had given birth to me's) blonde hair. Her eyes were the same hazel as mine, but hers were framed in brown eyeliner while mine were coated in black liquid liner, which had taken me twenty minutes to perfect. Her skin was the same pale shade as mine, but she lacked the freckles that had taken up residence across my nose and cheekbones. Our facial structures were uncomfortably similar. Same delicate nose, same lips, same thick eyebrows.

My father was there too, dressed in a dark gray suit. He didn't really share any resemblance with me. His hair was dark, like his brown eyes, and his skin was much tanner than mine. He had delicate features like his wife, but I saw none of myself in him. Once I had gotten over the two intruders' appearances, I began to focus on the words that were being said, loudly.

"What the hell are these conditions that you have raised our daughter in?" The blonde woman, my biological mother, was yelling at my aunt. "This house is a dump. And are you drunk, May?"

My aunt burped before yelling right back at her sister. "Well, you're the one who abandoned her. I'm the one who took care of her because you weren't even here to buy her food!" As if May had ever bought food for me. I worked my weekends forcefully, just to purchase bread for myself.

"By the looks of the refrigerator, you've been passed out drunk too much to do that," the man, my father, broke in. He was standing in front of the fridge, looking at its meager contents. It contained twice as much vodka as it did substantial food. I wanted to tell him that he had no right to make assumptions, no matter their accuracy.

It occurred to me then that none of them had noticed that the object of their argument was standing there, watching the parents that had abandoned her talk about parenting to a drunk aunt. The hypocrisy in this room was hurting my brain. I wanted to shout for everyone to just shut up already, but I couldn't seem to find my voice. As I attempted to form a sentence, the three people carrie don the argument.

"You abandoned Lena, Jessica!" You and your pig of a husband left your f---ing daughter in my care, when I was twenty-three! And I'm not a drunk." May's outfit, made up of last night's dress, and her rich perfume of alcohol, said otherwise. My aunt's denial of her condition pushed me over precipice of silence.

"You have all got to be f---ing KIDDING ME!" I screamed at my not-at-all parental parents and my drunken aunt. All three of them whirled around in surprise. My mother's and father's eyes widened, and my aunt's scowl deepened, if that was even possible.