Neverland

15.

I believe my mother orchestrated these family dinners because she felt bad about her shitty parenting and which is why I secretly take pleasure in attending. I hope I fueled some vendetta she might have against me- because in a sense, I think she knew I wasn't in a good state of mind.

Before dinner, I went into the family bathroom and did two lines, and just as I went to start another, my dad opened the door.

There's something euphoric about doing something bad in a place you know you can get caught. It made me feel like a child again, sneaking downstairs to go grab a snack, knowing I wasn't, knowing that there was a chance I would get in trouble. However, this was completely different, this wouldn't get me a slap on the wrist and banned from eating junk food for a week.

I was doing cocaine on the bathroom sink in front of my little sisters toothbrush, getting ready for a family dinner.
My dad's expression was unidentifiable. I could not pinpoint what his next move was and my emotions were at a halt. Everything had stopped- I was waiting for him to react so I knew what to do next, what to say and how the hell to feel.

"Dinner's ready," He says in montone, his eyes staring directly into mine. Was he trying to send me a fatherly scold? Was he trying to insinuate that we would talk about this later? No. He leaves.

And in that moment, I realized I was a nestless bird. He had given up.
With the adrenaline running and the coke running through my veins: I was livid on a whole other level that made it impossible to contain.

I marched down the stairs, my fists clenched together and my throat tight.
I didn't know if I wanted to cry or yell.

My brothers sat across from me, my sister beside me and my parent's on opposite heads of the table. I glued my eyes to my father, watching every movement he made, trying to see if he was simply unphased by what he had just witnessed in the family bathroom.
"J, how was the game on Thursday?" My mother asked, her high pitched voice made me want to rip my hair out.
At this point, I wanted to flip the table and break every piece of glass and take it across my wrist.
I didn't care if I was being overdramatic.
"You guys should've been there!" J was interrupted by my little sister who chimed, "Shoulda, coulda, woulda! But we didn't!" Everyone laughed at her seemingly childlike response, but I sinisterly snickered.
Great timing.

My father turned to my brothers, endearment filled his eyes and I suddenly felt like a voyeur again. "I'm so proud of you. I truly am, boys." He says, in a strong tone and I lose it. That's all it takes.

"You never fail to praise mediocracy, father," I grip the fork in my hand, trying hard to steady it so that I might eat nonchalantly.
"Kristen," My mother starts as my brothers both scoff, astonished by my rude remark.

Sophie, my sister, remains unmoved.

"What? I'm just saying you both always seem to notice trivial accomplishments." I mutter.
"That sentence seemed to contradict itself, don't ya think sis?" James was trying to get under my skin now.
"English isn't one of her strong suits. Aren't you failing? Isn't that why you're barely passing 12th grade?" Kevin jumped in and it was almost comedic how my parent's didn't reply to either of their spats.

"At least I don't have to screw my way through school," I blurt out, causing Kevin's eye to twitch, but I don't stop there.

"You two are the pinnacle of arrogance. You trample in here every weekend to converse on your superficial life with your superficial girlfriends, thinking you're better than everybody else when you're both just cretinous moronic assholes." I was standing now, and I could hear my mother yelling at me, but it sounded like I was underwater.
My brothers were standing as well, spitting out hate comments while my father tried to calm my mom down.

It was only, I, who realized my little sister was crying....and that infuriated me more.
She was the real victim in all of this because she was untouched by the darkness that lurked the Earth.
She didn't quite comprehend the jealousy of an older sibling just yet. She didn't notice the nonchalant attitude of a careless father....or the intolerable side remarks constantly spewing from her mother's mouth.
She didn't quite understand, like I did, but one day she would.
One day, she would understand what's so damn addicting about things that are no good for us. Why are we so addicted to the things that brings us the most pain?
I am no role model, especially to my sister and I didn't want to be. I wanted to be the entire being of who I didn't want her to turn into.

I couldn't give her a lecture on how to deal with heartache, but I can show her how to not react. I can show her what happens when you let the scars on the inside run your life. How I constantly cicatrize and divulge in the ambiguity of this fucked up life I was given.
I don't want my face to be the mask she has to wear everyday in order to get through her life....so I wept and cursed.

I was unaware of what my parents or even my insufferable brothers had to say. Just don't expose Nat to it just yet, I wanted to say....let her bask in the simplicity and innocence of her life...just a little while longer- while I go back and do a few more lines, just to bring me back to a fragment of the happiness I might've had long ago.