Misfits

Clare

"God dammit, Clare!" Daddy screams at me. I flinch at the bad word; not only is Daddy raising his voice, he's swearing at a child-- this is not good. He's holding two large pieces of shattered vase in each hand, and smaller pieces litter the floor around him. Luckily he is wearing shoes, because he would have bloody feet otherwise. I cower beneath him, my body shaking and my lungs heaving. I cannot control my breath; I think I'm hyperventilating. Daddy doesn't care. He doesn't even notice. He is screaming and screaming at me, all about this stupid, broken vase. "God freaking dammit, Clare!" he screams again. "Why can't you be more like your sister?" It's the first sentence I truly hear. My chest increases its rising and falling and tears are falling cold down my face. "Why can't you be like Anne Marie? She would never do something like this. God, Clare. This vase is worth more money than your existence." With that my heaving stops altogether, my lungs closing up and my air flow ceasing. To Daddy, I'm worth less than a vase. I'm hated compared to my sister. I'm god damn Clare. As black spots form in front of my eyes and my brain becomes fuzzy, I watch my Daddy rant on about my worthlessness. I can't even hear him falter as I faint.

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My parents refuse to believe I am anything less than perfect. I guess I should rephrase that. Anne Marie is perfect. She is the epitome of greatness and she will one day change the world upside down and backward. My parents could never expect that of me, as I have already shown them how their little mistake is nothing like her big sister. They refuse to believe I am anything less than exceptional. It was perfect when Anne Marie skipped a whole grade because of her IQ. It was exceptional when I went up a grade in math. It was perfect when Anne Marie got the GPA awards and was valedictorian and leader of infinite clubs and president of everything. It is exceptional that I have the GPA awards, but my GPA is still lower than hers. It is exceptional that I am a shoe-in to be valedictorian, but I'll still have to fight Amelia Silverton for it. It is exceptional that I participate in infinite clubs and run a large portion of them. I will never be perfect. Only Anne Marie is perfect. I'm just exceptional.

Most parents would be proud to have an exceptional daughter. Putting up all my ribbons and plaques around the house and taking pictures of me at every event to frame and ah over. But that's not how my parents look at it. Perfection is the utmost quality they look for in a person. They found perfection in each other and in their first born. When they couldn't find it in the youngest daughter, they shunned her. Forcing her to hang her own ribbons and plaques and pictures where only she could see them. Where only she could feel the unworthy pride they exuded.

Oh, I felt it. I felt it every day when Anne Marie was first priority, Jackson second (he still had potential to be perfect), me third. Why tell the dinner table how I made a macaroni necklace today when Anne Marie's glass bead one graced my mother's neck time-to-time. Who would ever wear a silly macaroni necklace?

"Look mommy! Look what I made today at school!" I screeched excitedly at my flinching mother who was looking around to see if anyone was watching this 'spectacle I was making' by being a child.

"Don't call me mommy. Your sister grew out of that childish phase almost immediately, and you will too. I'm mom or mother. Never mommy. Now be quiet. People are looking at you."

At this early of an age my mother hadn't begun to scare me with her harsh tone and menacing scowl. I continued to jabber away about my friends and finger painting and the necklace I made for her in art today as she forced me into my car seat. I pulled the necklace from my backpack and slid it over her head as she buckled me in, letting it rest gently against her neck. Mother froze mid click, leaning back and looking at what I had put upon her.

"What's this, Clare?" She asked me in a scarily calm voice.

"It's a necklace I made for you, mommy! It's made of macaroni and I made it just for you!"