Shadows of Yesterday

Chapter 5: Semi-Trucks and Short Jokes

I woke up the next morning feeling like I had gotten run over by a semi-truck. My joints ached and my eyes refused to open, and my whole body had a weight to it that was more than physical. In some ways, I would have preferred being squashed by a billboard on wheels to the nightmares I'd been having. At least then, my brain would finally shut up.

With a groan, I rolled out of my bed onto the floor, then grunted in pain as I landed in a tangle of blankets directly onto one of the boxes I still hadn't unpacked. Honestly, I was too tired to care much. I just rolled off of the box and threw on whatever clothes my hands touched. 

The trudge up the stairs to the kitchen was slow and puffy-eyed. I took them half at a time, shuffling up like a grandma with a bad hip. Can I go back to sleep?

I yawned, then had to pause as I entered the kitchen. Usually, my brothers weren't up this early. Their college classes hadn't started yet, so they typically slept in until... well, sometime after I had left. This morning, however, was different. Ben was seated at the counter, staring into his coffee like it held the answers to the universe. His dark hair was wild and untamed, and his eyes were almost hollow, his expression downtrodden and just as exhausted as I felt. It was unusual for him. He was normally so snarky and full of easy smiles. 

Declan sat at the kitchen table, scrolling on his phone with a feverish intensity that told me it was more about avoidance than actual entertainment. I hadn't been around them for this time of year in a long time. And standing there in the kitchen, all three of us worn out and refusing to talk, I felt like I was in a room with strangers.

Ben glanced up briefly and offered me a faint smile that didn't even try to reach his eyes. Then, he went back to staring into his cup. A cup I couldn't help but notice was suspiciously absent of its usual creamer and obscene amounts of sugar. "Morning, Jackie," he mumbled.

I wanted to ask both of them how they were doing, how they had been holding up these past years. But I couldn't bring myself to, and I had a feeling that even if I did, they wouldn't tell me. I know I wouldn't. 

Instead, I just sat down a couple stools away from Ben and reached for the coffeepot. "Where's Mom?" I asked quietly.

"Work," came Declan's absent reply.

"Already?"

They both just shrugged. Helpful, I thought grumpily.

"Are one of you giving me a ride to school today, then?"

Another set of absent shrugs. 

Guess I'm hitching a ride with Kat.

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Later that day, I leaned limply against the locker next to Kat's as she switched out her textbooks for her last two periods. I was desperately trying to pay attention to the story she was telling about the art teacher who had just returned from maternity leave and her "avant-garde" projects that apparently included a surprising number of staples and an appalling amount of cardboard, but my heart just wasn't in it. It made me feel like a terrible friend, but my mind was a million miles away. Or, two miles, more accurately. "I mean, it's a beginner's pottery class, for crying out loud!" she joked, momentarily snapping me back into the present moment. 

I laughed. "Wait, why would you ever need staples in a pottery class?"

She shrugged, a baffled look on her face. "Beats me, but she's found a way."

I chuckled. The small laugh helped to shake off some of the heaviness from this morning. I felt a little more human, like maybe today would only be slightly terrible instead of totally. My relief only lasted a moment, however, because right after Kat spoke, an annoyingly familiar voice said from behind me, "Found a way to what?"