Sugar Spell it Out

Four: Divorce is Hard to Overcome

"It all comes back to this,
Not a single line on the page;
And it makes me feel so alone
Without you, I got nothin'
But the air that I breathe
It's a vicious circle of lies
That we're trapped in.
So I pour another drink. "
-- Elias Wren of Confucian

      I adjusted the headphones, turning up the volume louder.

I had spent almost three more hours talking with Trish about what had been going on the week of her absence. I told her about how Ma was so against me applying to Ursuline Academy and how she and my father had been bickering more lately.

Trish seemed unfazed about it all. She told me that couples fight, as if I didn't know that already. I had asked her if any of my parent's symptoms were similar to hers.

She just shrugged, "Sorta," she said, biting her lip again. "But, mine are different from yours. Trust me; you'll know when things get out of hand, Sienna. Don't worry about it too much."

A few minutes of silence passed and she spoke again. "And if you can't do that, just talk to them about it. Communication is key, darlin."

And so, I left her house at twenty minutes to ten with a newfound resolution. Trish was right – I had nothing to lose. I was their only child.

It was late and the air felt heavier that particular night. The town of Franklinton, Louisiana was a remote one with a population of about four-thousand.

Everyone knew one another and it was almost physically impossible to get away with any type of crime. It was my home and fear didn't even cross my mind as I walked the down the familiar dark streets to my house, but there was something off about tonight.

I couldn't place my finger on what made it so odd.

Not much later I was climbing up the steps that lead to the porch and unlocking the front door.

The lights were off when I stepped into the warm house and the only light that could be seen from the foyer was from the moon shining through the windows in the distance.

Completely blinded, I took a few steps towards the large staircase before my foot caught on the heavy rug in front of me.

Yelping in surprise, my face stopped its deadly descent into the staircase railing. My hands instinctively stretching out in front of me, I caught myself last minute.

I silently thanked God that no one was here to witness my failure. Getting up, I motioned to climb the stairs again, but with more caution. Fifteen steps and four seconds later I passed my parents' room in my haste to get to my own. I was tired. The day had been easy compared to other ones, but its simplicity made it that much harder to deal with.

Today I was told I couldn't apply to the school of my dreams. Today my parents argued again.

My room wasn't very large, more medium than anything. Walking in, I quickly changed into a tank and some sweats and placed the contents of my jean pockets on the nightstand. 

Grabbing the remote attached to the dock on the other side of the room, pushed the on button. The tension in my muscles relaxed as a deep, husky voice and familiar melody filled the room.

Today I went back to Peter's for the first time in two weeks.

My legs and feet throbbing to different beats, I sighed deeply, sinking into the crevices of my soft matteress. My feet stretched and my hands rested on my stomach.

Today I watched children play across the street; they made me forget why I was sad.

I closed my eyes as I remember the look on the little girl's face. Her small, slightly chubby face radiated in happiness.