Hypnosis

1

I wonder what would happen if I were to take this knife and stab him in the spleen.

He's been doing my head in the whole hour we've been sitting at this tiny booth, droning on and on about how he's going to university in a few weeks, very proudly bragging about the things I can't have. I fiddle with the knife I'm twirling around in my hand, not realising I'm practically staring into this egotistical man's soul for about 5 minutes. The rambunctious

sound of the lightbulb directly above my head is draining any hearing I have left out of my ears and the group of what we call 'disappointments to the male species' next to us are clapping and daring one singular boy to down as many shots of the worst branded vodka I have ever tasted. Just to top it all off, the once dim and orange lighting shining down on me

is now flickering into shades of rust.

"Ebony?"

Otto's voice is now fully ticking my last nerve.

I look up at him, my head still down grasping onto the steak knife.

"Sorry, you just seemed like you weren't listening to me."

I keep my glare, still thinking about how nice that stab would be right about now.

"No please, keep going on about how you have such a nice life living with mum, how you get everything a newly 18 year old should have while I sit in this pocket-sized booth reminiscing about the fact when this god awful conversation is over, I get to go home to dad and be locked in the house."

"Ebony, you're not lock-"

"I'm not being funny, Otto. I am quite literally LOCKED in the house."
"My bedroom has iron bars on the windows, every room me or dad go into has to have security standing outside the door and to top it all off we have cameras in each room, yes even the bathrooms."

"He's just a paranoid dad, I'm sure he means well."

Otto has zero interest in coming over to see him. Sure, dad's done some bad things in his life, especially leaving mum for that matter. I don't see why Otto can't get it into his incoherent brain that mum and dad are just as bad as each other.

Otto is only a year younger than me so when we were kids we were pretty close, primarily when we sat in our playroom just next to the kitchen and we would hear our parents theatricality screaming at one another about dad's work and how dangerous it is, how they shouldn't have had kids because we were now part of that danger and how mum can't deal with Otto being part of it anymore.

I was too young at that point to realise he was her favourite, not casual favourites like many parents chose, but a favourite like I didn't exist, like Otto was her only child just because he was constantly joint to her hip. Even when they divorced and our parents decided to take one child each, she had no hesitation on who she would pick. Now I'm older and she builds up the unconditional love to speak to me once a year, wishing me a happy birthday over a text message. I am glad my dad picked me despite the perculiar mysteries I have about his job and the layout of our seized home.

I wave Otto off as he drives away in Leo. Yes, that's right, he named his car LEO. I will never understand why people name their cars and treat them as if they are their babies. It very clearly expresses the amount of love they lack in their life.
I get into my car, previously parked beside Otto's "baby", put the roof down and blast Taylor swift. I am not even lying when I say she is the only thing that can calm me down after a bad day - she has a song for every emotion one can possibly feel. Feeling anxious? Play "The Archer." Just got cheated on? Play "The 1". Lover's girl era? Play "Lover" or "Paper Rings." Horny? "False God." Despite her many masterpieces, "All too well 10 minute version" will always have a special place in my heart as my top favourite Taylor Swift song. My dad is slightly worried about my obsession with her and he should be, if I could I would replace her with him as harsh as it may sound. I think I would sacrifice myself for her. If she's dead, I'm dead.

The restaurant me and Otto went to was 30 minutes from my house, so I am proud to say I got through quite a lot of Taylor Swift. Singing along to her in my seat with a smile plastered across my face was a moment I wish could have lasted a while longer. As I drive down the street, I get about a house or two down from mine when I hold to a stop. 3 black limos are parked in a line down from my driveway following onto the road. My father is outside the front door, about a metre away from the men stepping out of the limo's, who were all dressed in blood red and black suits.
Anxiety feels like hanging from the side of a building and I am going to slip at any second. SInce my parents divorce, it has been clear to everyone around me about the common mental health disease - anxiety. Personally, I find it very annoying, like in this moment I know I should drive towards the house or at least park my car on the side of the road and go help my dad, however I am frozen in my drivers seat, ironically with "If this was a movie" playing quietly in the background as my heart begins to race faster and faster and my breathing also. Sweat collects like a lake all over my body and my legs are trembling. I have been told I am no help when this happens, so from hearing that quite often I decide to compose myself before heading over to see what all the fuss is about.

5 minutes have passed and I am still sitting in my seat, much calmer than before and still Taylor Swift continues to be ironic now playing "Today Was A FairyTale". I don't know what my dad does for work, I'm not even sure I want to know. He could be a hitman or a drug dealer for all I know. Yet some deep part of me wants to know and this will probably be the only chance I get.