Shattered Appearances ✓

s i x: Facing Truth

I stared at the empty table seat as everyone was chewing on their breakfast. Stephanie was still in her room, and she refused to speak to me. I felt bad for what I did, and I wanted to apologize this morning but I haven't seen her.

Knowing her, she's in her room watching T.V, making everyone think she was upset so they would feel bad for her. I set my spoon down, making small droplets of milk spill on the table.

"I'm not hungry." I said simply. "I'll get ready in my room."

"Zoey, you can't keep missing breakfast. Eventually you're going to faint from lack of nutrients." My father replied tiredly and put his hands on his head. This was the third time that I ditched breakfast, and he made it clear that he didn't enjoy it.

"I never really enjoyed breakfast anyway. I think I can go without food for a couple of hours until lunch comes around."

"Even I know that's not true. You used to love your mother's cooking, especially in the morning."

"Well she isn't hear is she. Now I would appreciate if you stop mentioning her like you actually know us."

After I left the dining room, I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer in the kitchen. Taking the frozen object, I went upstairs and knocked on Stephanie's room twice.

This is the last time I'm trying. It's not my fault if she refuses my help.

It took a moment before she opened the door a tiny bit and I dejectedly held out the ice pack. She looked at her for a second longer before fully opening the door. When I extended my hand out further to give it to her, she fully shut the door again in my face.

Was that really necessary though? I left the ice pack on the floor besides her door and went to my room to get my backpack. I forgot to paint it to a different color over the weekend so it was still a very paint bubblegum shade. It amazes me to this day so I could ever like that color when I was ten. I was so obsessed with it that I painted my walls a very bright shade of pink. By the time I was fifteen, that love had grown to detest and I swore to paint my room a shade of blue. Of course, that plan ever planned out and so, I was stuck with pink.

As I was heading downstairs I heard my father calling out to me. Seeing that I had at least ten minutes until I absolutely had to leave, I headed to the dining room. Giselle was already in the living room, doing last minute homework, so it was just the adults and I.

"Did you need something or are you going to waste my time again?"

This apparently made Monica angry because she responded, "Young lady, that is no way to treat your parents. How did your mother raise you?"

I was about to make a jab at her about how she wasn't nor will ever be my parent but my dad beat me to it. He put his hand on top of hers, and spoke to me. He didn't seem angry about my previous statement, in fact, it was like he never heard it.

"I made an appointment with a therapist today. I think it's time you should start going to one again. She might help you."

"How did you even manage to set up a session last minute? I've only been here a week."

"She's a family friend. Normally Dr. Schacter wouldn't set up an appointment so late minute but she made an exception for us. I expect you to go. I'll pick you up from school today and we'll drive together. Knowing you, I'm afraid you'll skip."

"So little trust in me father. I guess trust issues run in the family. I'll go, but you're wasting your money. I'm incurable."

With that, I let out a fake smile and left. If I had more time, I would've stepped up on the theatrics.