You're So Fragile

Chapter 12

     I remember when I was a little girl. I remember it too clearly. I was extremely shy and scrawny with straight, long black hair. "You look just like your dad", people would say. But I could never see it. I had his dark hair and dark eyes, whereas my mom had hazel eyes and golden brown hair. My mom was Colombian so she had very exotic features. I wanted to look like her. I inherited her cheekbones, that's all. But I couldn't see the resemblance between me and either of my parents. Maybe it was just me.

     Something happened to my dad. I don't know what he did for a living but I'm pretty sure it messed him up. It came so quickly. Just one day, my parents couldn't look at each other anymore. They couldn't live with each other anymore. They couldn't look at me anymore. My parents took up drinking and fighting with each other as a regular hobby. It was only a matter of time before one of them left, and sure enough, my father was the one to go. I think he chose work over us. The details on that are a bit hazy but he left me with my mother. A mother who was too heart broken and too lost to raise me properly. I wonder if he knew the fate I would be destined to have by him leaving me with her. Did he know she would almost completely shut down? I like to think he didn't. I don't hate them though. There's some well-founded resentment but I don't hate them. I feel sorry for them. I'm sure they loved each other- probably too much- and I was just caught in the crossfire of whatever demons they were both battling. There was no one to help me, no way to escape. I had to learn to take care of myself. I had to rely on me. I was six years old.

     I've been watching Carter sleep for a good ten minutes. He looks rested and peaceful. I'm scared to move too much; I don't want to wake him. I'm pretty sure it is already past 1 pm but we're both exhausted so it doesn't matter. I want to feel his heartbeat so I gently place my hand on his sternum. His heart beats steadily. I have to constantly remind myself that there is life inside of him. If not, it becomes harder to accept being here with him. My hand barely moves as I'm about to move it off of him when he grabs my hand. My heart jumps at this action and I sit up but he doesn't let go of my hand.

     "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" I immediately ask.

     "No, no it's fine." He assures me, noticing the panic in my face. He sits up as well and stares at me, still not letting go of my hand. I meet his gaze. "You know, that was probably the most sleep I've had in a long time... How did you sleep?" 

     "I didn't dream of anything." I reply a bit passively.

     "Good, are you hungry?"

     "I want coffee."

     "Alright, coffee it is. Come on."

     We walk down to the kitchen. He starts the coffee and after a minute, the smell of it emanates throughout the entire kitchen. The idea of him sleeping in my bed still seems impossible. Despite it having already happened. And I was okay with it. I wanted it at the time, but why? Was I really so scared that I couldn't be alone? Or did I actually want his company because I enjoyed it? I'm conflicted. I always seem to be conflicted around him. Once the coffee is ready, he pours it into my mug and puts a pastry on a plate.

     "Eat."

     I stare at the pastry for a moment. I don't want to eat it. I just want to drink my coffee and smoke a damn cigarette. But that won't happen if I don't eat it so I take a bite and drink my coffee. He sits next to me and drinks his coffee as well. When we both finish, he hands me a cigarette. When I finish mine, I head upstairs into my room and lock the door behind me. Carter is showering. I can hear the water running through the pipes. I lay down in bed with nothing to do. I have no more books to read. I never watch television solely because the only TV is in the living room and he would probably feel the need to sit and watch TV next to me. Although we have shared the same bed now, maybe watching TV won't feel so awkward. I opt for listening to music instead.