Love Is So Cliché

Chapter Thirteen: Revelations II, Phillip and Bitter Truths

"She's such a wanton." Little Laura's father's words stuck in her mind. She rushed to her mom and tugged on her beige skirt. Amy Diamond looked down at her and absently patted her head, she was on her phone, as usual, Laura shook her hand off and smiled, then more seriously she asked her, quite loudly to make sure she heard, what I wanton was, Amy dropped her phone and grabbed Laura by her shoulders, "Laura!" she exclaimed. "Who dares to say such a thing in your presence?" She asked. Laura explained the conversation she had just had with her father and her mom's grip began to tighten on her shoulders, so much so that it hurt. Amy's expression was unreadable, and Laura stared into her mother's hazel eyes, so very much like her own. "Laura dear," she started grimly. "The reason we don't do those cliche things is that your father is a paranoid, insecure, Casanova." She said loud enough for Laura's father to hear. He marched in as Amy stood up and looked him dead in the eye. She told Laura to go upstairs and make sure Lisa was still taking her nap. Laura obliged and left the room, but she did not go upstairs to check on Lisa, instead, she decided to eavesdrop.

She heard a slap and shuffling of the chairs and table in the dining room. "How dare you hit me, Amy?" She heard her father yell. "Wanton? Really? Couldn't you have come up with something better?" her mother sneered. "Oh, yes I can, slut, whore, psychopathic bitch, do you need any more?" her father shot back. Laura heard something crash and her mother let out a feral sound. "I hate you I thought I loved you but I don't. Even I would never treat me this shitty. You knew I was never a hundred percent okay upstairs but you said it was fine. You said you loved me and that we could do this, we could push through anything using our love. Well where's that so-called love now, Phillip? Where?" Amy screamed. Laura heard the door slam and when she peaked around the corner, she saw her father holding his special locket with a picture of herself, Lisa, and her mom in it. She saw the pieces of the broken vase on the floor and the beautiful red roses that had been in it spread out along with the shards. Laura heard her father sniff and she stepped back out of sight and sunk to the floor her back against the wall. After she was sure her father had left, hours later, Laura stepped out of her hiding place, put on leather gloves, and began to pick up the broken shards while weeping bitterly. Why were her mom and dad so stupid? Lisa had not even flinched and was still in a deep sleep she had always been a deep sleeper and never had to hear the late-night fights but Laura heard all the screams and the falls.

As she was just finishing cleaning up, her mom stumbled in with a stranger in tow, Laura could see them but they could not see her. She watched as the stranger put his arms around her mom and kissed her the way her father should have. Laura just sat there, paralyzed, and watched, all the names her father had called her mother that day made sense. Her mother was a cliche whore, hellbent on destroying her family, driven by lust, and nothing good was to be said about her. Laura silently cried as her childhood was ruined right in front of her. Her innocence was purged by selfish human physical desires. She felt a presence behind her and found her father standing tall and regal-like, she noticed, however, that he smelt like that disgusting-looking brown drink adults liked. Whiskey, she remembered is what they liked to call it. Her father watched the scene in front of him without even flinching. How could he watch the woman he supposedly loved, do those things with another?

Laura looked away from them and slowly crept up to her father and hugged his leg. She felt him tense up against her. She looked up at him questioningly. He cupped her face with his right hand and squeezed it so tightly that her teeth bit into her tongue and cheek making them bleed. She struggled to be freed and ended up going limp after her efforts were painted as painfully, obviously futile. Her father inched his face closer to hers and smiled a wicked smile, his big aquamarine eyes looking cold and glazed over, she could smell the stale alcohol on his breath. He said to her, "You see that, that's your mother right there, a striking resemblance I must add, inside and out. Same hazel hair." He said pulling hard on a strand of her hair with his left hand. "Same hazel eyes," he continued, tightening his grip on her face. "And the same goddamn psychotic, wanton, alcoholic, lonely, and aimless future. You are your mother's daughter, through and through. Say it!" he whisper-shouted. Tears flowed down Laura's cheeks and onto her father's fingers, and her father released her with a grunt. "I am my mother's daughter." She said nonchalantly. Her father nodded grimly and walked away. Laura watched him leave, ignoring the sounds behind her. She grabbed a glass of milk she had poured for herself and threw it at the wall in rage. Then she ran away to the safety of her room and locked her door, slowly reaching the brink of insanity as she screamed and cried into her pillow all night long, ignoring the banging on her door and the shouts on the other side.

The next day she woke up early from a fitful sleep and heard Lisa's voice downstairs, along with her father's and her mother's. Laura rushed downstairs, she reached the bottom just in time to catch a glimpse of Lisa's long blonde hair flowing in the wind as the door was about to shut, Laura rushed to it, yanked it open, and asked them where they were all going. Lisa smiled and ran back to Laura and gave her a big hug. "Don't worry Laura," she said. "We'll be right back. Mommy and Daddy said so." she continued. 'Screw them.' Laura thought as long as Lisa returned she would be happy, all she cared about was Lisa coming back from wherever they were going. Amy shooed Laura back inside the house and told her Mrs. Johnson the kind, old lady next door would take care of her. Laura frowned at her mom and would not let her touch her. She walked back inside the house without another word. Hours later her mom came back and Laura pretended to be asleep in her room, trying to listen carefully for the sound of Lisa's voice. Lisa was not there, but Laura tried to keep the fantasy that she was there alive.

"I'm so sorry, Laura it just didn't work out. Your dad and Lisa aren't coming back. I'm so sorry sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Laura opened her eyes and looked at the twins. They were both sobbing bitterly at her sad tale. It was one of many, but she would not and could not tell them that at that particular moment maybe another day. Words could not describe how bad the twins felt for Laura, but those tears.

Those tears described how they felt just right.