The Spare

TERRIFIED

I'm at the edge of my emotions,

Watching the shadows burning in the dark.

I'm alone...

And I'm terrified.

-Terrified, Katharine McPhee

Nightmares are frightening dreams during sleep. But what if you have nightmares even when you're awake? Are they still called nightmares? No. It's real life. When I was a kid, everything seemed like a fairy tale. But things change. Life happens. And I was made to understand that fairy tales are only for little girls. Happily ever after's are a scarce commodity in real life.

A knock comes from outside my bedroom door and then the maid starts to call out my name. I remain quiet, lying on my bed, looking at the lit end of a cigarette in my hand. Another call. I stare harder at the cigarette. A harder knock. I raise the cigarette to my lips puffing out the smoke which I start to inhale. The knocking stops. So does the voice of the maid calling for me. Footsteps start to descend. I'm left alone.

I pull an ashtray towards me from my bedside table. Crushing the light from my cigarette, I dump the stick in the tray and pulled my phone out from the pocket of my jeans. It was 7:00 in the morning. Time for breakfast.

Getting up, I started to drag myself towards my bathroom. I stop at the sink and start to look at my reflection in the mirror. I laugh. The me on the mirror laughs too. I stare at my eyes. They used to be bright and beautiful. The color of the midnight sky on a cloudless day. Now they're sunken, surrounded by dark circles and giant bags hung below. I wipe the smudged lipstick from my lips with the back of my hand. I wipe it until I felt pain from the hard friction of skin on skin, until my lips are pale and cracked once again.

I turn on the faucet and wash my face. The water is ice cold. I didn't mind and continued with the task at hand. Washing my face until the make up I had put on for last night is no more. I pulled a towel from the rack beside me and dried all the water off. I look at my reflection again. I smile. Now, you look like you. I tell myself inside my head.

I went down to breakfast finding every member of my family already seated in front of the dining room table. Taking my seat, I place the napkin in my lap and took the jar of chocolate cereals, pouring a bountiful amount in my bowl and drowning it with milk. I remain quiet and start to eat. My father, who had buried himself on the morning paper, food untouched started to take in a deep breath. I sigh. Placing my spoon back on the table I close my eyes and braced myself. I count from three to one. It begins. "The stunt you pulled last night is unacceptable!" Came my fathers booming voice. I believe everyone in the house had heard it. "What were you thinking?" He shouted rather than asked in a quiet manner. He used to do that whenever I did something "unacceptable". He'd call for me in his office and quietly tell me off. I guess he's grown tired of quiet reprimands. "When will you stop all of this Krystyn? You've become a disgrace to this family! I cannot tolerate this any longer!" A pause. I catch my brother's eyes from across the table. He looks solemn like always. But to me, that solemnity is a look of pity towards his younger sister. I hate that look. It makes me want to punch him in the face.

"Last night was the last straw!" came my fathers voice again. Mother, placed a hand over my fathers right arm and began to calm him down. "Philippe. Can we talk about this later? The Lords blessing is right in front of us." I roll my eyes. What a hypocrite. "This child has reached my limit! I can no longer accept her mistakes, when she so gladly does it over and over again!" I take a sip of orange juice from my glass. "It's decided. Next week, you will leave for London. I am sending you to a boarding school there." I square my shoulders and look at my father straight in the eyes. Rage reflected back to me. An age of torturous patience and pretentious understanding for a wayward daughter. I laugh bitterly. "I guess I'm finally making you happy then." I start to say. Bile rising to my throat. "You are getting rid of me after all. You can begin to build your perfect family now. Who wanted the spare any way, right?" I can see more anger starting to bubble from my father. I stand. "Excuse me. I believe my presence is no longer needed in this table." I perform a perfectly executed curtsy and walk away.

In my room, I take a hot shower, dressed my self in dark jeans a white tank top and a black hoodie. I put on my sneakers. Grabbing my wallet and phone, dumped it inside a brown leather pack. I pulled the hoodie over my head, hiding my face from view. I walk to the French doors leading to my rooms wide balcony. Dropping the pack to the manicured lawn below, I climbed the Elder branch hanging low towards the railing supported by white marble baluster. Taking a good footing, I begin the climb down.