Tell Me A Lie

Chapter 6

      Unlike any other normal teenager, I hated weekends. Even dreaded them thanks to my parents. In my life, weekends were the days where I was stuck within my house I called hell. There was no escape because my parents rarely let me out of the house, so I was left huddled in my room.  

       Today the house was eerily silent. Both of my parents were home, but I heard nothing that ensured me of their presence. Surprisingly, that was scarier than when they fought.

       Sitting up on my bed, I tried to strain my hearing. As I tilted my head sideways, I tried to get some sort of hint that they were truly here. Somehow, I still couldn't hear anything.

      My tense body suddenly relaxed. I found myself exhaling as I believed I was home alone. This was a dream come true to me and I thought of leaving my bedroom. That was something I never did when my parents were around.

      So taking a deep breath in, I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and slid off. Straightening out my tank top and pyjama pants, I decided to go downstairs and get a snack. The last time I ate was for breakfast, and that had been five hours ago.

       Opening the door to my room, I went out into the silent hallway. I paused and made sure there was no sound of my parents, and then continued on my way down the stairs. I was thrilled to see how relaxed I was right now. Usually, the weekends left me incredibly stressed. That was kind of ironic because the weekends were when you were supposed to destress.

       The second I laid a foot on the bottom step, I heard someone shriek. It was mom and I jumped, whipping my head to the sound. My heart dropped as I saw my parents cuddling. They were simply cuddling, but they looked like I had caught them doing something that would scar my innocent eyes.

       "What are you doing down here?" my mom screamed, sitting up quickly.

       My dad began to scowl at the sight of me and he sat up too. Looking at the both of their faces, I knew my presence was very unwelcome. That was the usual though.

       "I'm getting a snack," I simply answered. "Sorry."

      I turned left to go into the kitchen. With the staircase blocking my view of my parents, I tried to quicken up my pace. Right now, I wanted to get a snack and then get away from them as soon as possible.

       "A snack?" I heard my dad say as I went to grab some yogurt from the fridge. "Aren't you fat enough as it is?"

        My mom snickered. "She is, but she's already ugly. Becoming skinny wouldn't help her in anyways."

       As usual, their words just brushed passed me. They didn't hurt. By now I just accepted that I was fat and ugly and that there was no changing that. Thanks to that, their words were facts to me. That made them mean nothing to me.

       "But she's so fat," my dad said, mocking concern. "What if she dies from her weight?"

       I had grabbed my yogurt, but for some reason I stayed standing in front of the fridge. With my hand holding onto the yogurt tightly, I waited for what would come next. I didn't know why I did.

      "Well that would be a blessing." My mom laughed. "We should let her eat more if that's the ending for her."

     My dad began to laugh with her, and suddenly I dropped the yogurt that was in my hand. With my body tensing, I told myself to leave. I told myself to get away from my assholes of parents. As my heart stung, I knew I didn't want to be here.

      So taking a deep breath in, I left the kitchen and went up the stairs. I didn't dare look at my parents who were laughing hard at their ugly jokes. The ugly jokes that matched their ugly, tainted hearts.

      Once upstairs, I heard my mom shriek, "Look at her! She's so pathetic!"

      My dad roared with laughter and I slammed the door to my room shut. Only after taking a deep breath in did I realize my hands were in fists. And not for the first time ever, I knew I hated my parents. I knew I wanted them gone from my life.

       But sadly, I also knew that that was impossible. No matter what, they were here to stay and this was my life. There was no changing it and I knew that. So taking a deep breath in once again, I went back to my bed and huddled with my blankets. Thinking about my parents, I felt a rage I had to fight back down. I knew being mad was pointless, but I still felt it burning in my heart.

*****

       Draw with feelings. That was Jared told me and I was intrigued. I still had a blank canvas in front of me, so I knew I had to come up with something before I would fail the assignment. His advice needed to work now.

       I stared at the canvas in front of me and thought about anything. Anything that made me feel something so strong that I would want to let it pour out into a painting. Sadly, I knew I was not the type of person to feel anything strongly. With my parents being the way they were, I tried to feel as little as possible to protect myself.

       My parents. Subconsciously, my grip on my paintbrush tightened. Anger from the weekend flooded into me and I was suddenly scowling. Their words hurt. They made me feel pathetic. I hated them. I hated then so much.

       My hand was shaking now and even though I tried to tell myself to calm down, I couldn't. I was just so tired of my parents and everything they did to me. After seventeen years, I had enough. Which sucked though, because this was my life. A life I couldn't change.

      I scoffed and ignored the people who glanced at me. My life was so fucked up. It was pathetic and I hated that. I hated it so much, and I knew why. It was because of my parents.

       My hands began to move on their own. I dipped my paintbrush into black paint and began to paint lines on the canvas. As I did that, my mind was somewhere else. Filled with many thoughts, I didn't even know what I was doing.

       Sometimes, I wondered if who I was would be much different if my parents weren't who they were. Maybe I could have been popular. Maybe I could want to have good days. Maybe the idea of getting killed wouldn't seem so thrilling. There were so many maybes and all of them led to my parents. The very people you were supposed to love seemingly have ruined my life. How ironic.

       I closed my eyes suddenly and stopped moving entirely. At that moment, I told myself to relax. That thinking about these things wouldn't change anything. I thought of myself as a strong person, and I knew thinking like this would only break the strong persona I had built up. That was why I refrained from thinking this way.

       Knowing that, I opened my eyes slowly. They then widened as they saw what was before them. What was once a blank canvas now held a simple outline of a man. A hideous man who looked more like a devil then a human. Beside him was the beginning of a figure than looked like a woman. Without thinking, I began to smile.

      I had created an image that represented my parents. This was who they were. Devils. Devils who were disguised as humans. They were hideous, terrifying, and everything bad in this world. My simple outline of them seemed to show that.  

      My smile grew as I realized my feelings had created this image. Like Jared had taught me, my feelings could conjure up an image. I was surprised yet satisfied. Seeing this image had calmed me down a lot.

       There was one person to thank for that, so I looked at Jared who sat across the room from me. To my surprise, he was smiling at me already. With knowing eyes, he grinned as our eyes met. I couldn't help but grin back, thankful for the outlet I really needed.