Social Experiment

24 | Something Isn't Right

I grasped the wooden poles of the staircase, looking at my father with wide eyes as I hid in the shadows. He stood in front of the front door with his work suit on and two suitcases beside him, but he didn't tell Luke and I he was going on a business trip. The sparkling lights from the Christmas tree blinked against the wall beside the front door, making the whole scene look joyous and happy. But I knew better.

My father was standing at the front door looking at my mother, who was begging him for something, I don't know. "Marie, I'm done."

My mom began crying, and the sound made me inch further up the stairs to make sure I was out of sight. "Richard, please."

"I'm done with you, with this job, with these kids. I'm done, Marie." He yells roughly and shakes his head vehemently. "This isn't what I wanted. You're not what I wanted."

My father yanks the door open and grabs his suitcases. Without another look back at my crying mother, his crying wife, he stepped outside. I could see a taxi waiting out front and frowned. Where was dad going? A bad feeling built up in the pit of my stomach when the door slammed shut and my mom tried to suffocate her sobs with her hands.

I woke up gasping for air, my eyes flinging wide open and heart hammering against my chest. Sweat was rolling off of my forehead and beaded against my hairline. Sitting up in bed, I took a second to catch my breath, wishing that I would stop having the same nightmare so frequently. Unfortunately, the worst part was that it wasn't even really a nightmare: it was a memory.

My head began to ache as it usually does when I wake up after a bad dream and I nurse it in my hands. I sit in bed, gently massaging my own temples, as I mentally calm myself down. It's just another stupid dream. It's okay. After what felt like hours of repeating the same words in my head, the alarm on my phone goes off beside my bed.

School was definitely not an appealing prospect, but I knew I had to go. If I didn't go to school every time I woke up from that awful dream, then I would've missed half the school year already. So I suck it up and got dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve tight black shirt that laced up the front on the chest area and then paired it with black heel booties.

Mom made Luke and I breakfast again this morning, but unlike Wednesday morning, I was silent. My mind was swimming and no matter how hard I tried to mask it all with a smile, I failed. I was too preoccupied with my thoughts as I always was after the recurring memory. And I came to the same question that I always did: why did he leave us? Why was he done with us?

"Lauren," Luke complains in between bites of his omelet. "Go outside so Nathan stops beeping." 

His words pull me out of my own head and I hear the vague sound of a car horn coming from outside. I get up robotically and grab my backpack before kissing my mom on the cheek. "See you after school, mom."

She kisses me back and says in an overly cheerful voice, "I love you, hun. Have a good day!"

I hesitate in front of the front door, momentarily seeing my father standing there with his suitcases, but then I blinked and he was gone, just a fading memory of that day. With a sigh, I open the door and trudge towards Nathan's car. He's standing outside, leaning against the car to wait for me. When I approach, I look up at him and force a smile.

"Hey," I greet weakly. "Sorry for taking a while."

Before I can round the car and go to the passenger side door, Nathan's large hand wraps around my wrist. I look up at him questioningly, but his brow is furrowed and there's a frown on his face.