Waterless

f o u r

I enjoyed being a nobody. Under crystal skies that mimicked my lies I was nameless. The times that differed were even more conspicuous.

I remained that way, completely insignificant, and it was my camouflage. Whenever Arron raised his fist or the bottle to his lips he became the main player in the chess game.

It wasn't that I didn't want to fight back, I did. But I never know how. My family didn't raise me to rebel, or even to act like I wanted to.
My mother was a chameleon, that changed her personality to fit whoever was around her. Some days she was green. Some blue, red, orange, purple.

I remember her telling me that drinking was horrible around one of her more Catholic clients. That night she had three glasses of wine and fell asleep on the couch.

As for me I had almost never drank. Every now and then at a fancy restaurant I would have wine, or even the occasional mojito or margarita when we were at the beach. Ever since Arron grew from love to hate, I tried to stay as sober as possible. Then I had a clear mind and I wouldn't fantasize of losing that focus. I was mostly there, not swimming in the clouds, with a touch of bruised and bad blood.
Sober.

He said he loved me more when I wasn't.