The Charade
An hour passed by of me sitting in the bathroom. I was beginning to get hungry. Super hungry. I haven't eaten since this morning, with Harry.
About a half an hour ago, Harry, my mom and my dad all walked down from upstairs.
If I heard correctly, my parents told Harry to leave and come back home a little later so the tension in the house wasn't as bad.
He left about twenty minutes ago, leaving just me and my parents.
I decided to remain quiet in the bathroom. It's the safest spot to be. My main goal is to avoid my parents.
My parents.
That didn't sound right anymore.
They're not anything else but strangers to me now.
No different than my biological parents.
Talking coming from the kitchen interrupted my thinking. My mom and dad.
I pressed my ear up against the bathroom door and listened carefully.
They were in the kitchen, right around the corner.
"I don't know what to do, Madeline," said my dad.
Neither of them said anything for a couple minutes. They must've been thinking.
Then my mom broke the silence, "well now both of them know. . ."
I pressed my ear harder to the door.
Did they know I was in here or not? I couldn't tell.
"There's nothing we can do but tell them the truth." That was my dad, I could tell.
I heard a bang. My mom slammed a pan against the kitchen counter. "Johnny, we never wanted the kids to find out about this!" She screamed. "So why are you being so relaxed?!"
I could feel the tension, the heat from inside the bathroom. It was a weird feeling.
They continued their discussion by yelling at each other.
Now everyone in the family is turned against each other and I have it in my head that its all my fault.
"I'll think of you when the police come and take us away!" My mom yelled. I could almost see my mom scowling at my dad.
Silence.
"She has to go." My mom said.
Am I the 'she'?
I bit my fingernails and listened impatiently. Waiting to hear what they were going to say next.
Something hit the wall. It was a kitchen chair.
My dad stood up from the table, "who. . .Skylar?"
I stopped breathing, my heart stopped beating and the amount of heat was unbearable.
"We have to send her to a foster home." My mom's sentence repeated and repeated over and over again in my head. To the point where I found myself crouched down in a ball on the ground. My arms wrapped around my knees, my head rested on my folded legs.
I pinched myself, trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare.
But it wasn't a nightmare.
It was as real as real could get.
I waited patiently for my dad to say something that would save my life but I heard nothing but whispers.
Anger took over my body, like it did for Harry.
I grabbed ahold of the door handle and pulled the door open, leaving my sorrow behind me.
I didn't dare look at my parents.
Pissed off, I ran up to my room. Once I arrived, I gathered all the shattered glass on the floor and grabbed my phone off my nightstand, dialing Harry's number as fast I could. Making sure my parents didn't follow me up the stairs.
Harry picked up after the second ring, "hello?" His voice sounded stern and angry.
"Mom and dad are sending me away." I tried my very hardest to hold all the tears back. "Please come home." I begged.
"What?. . . I'll be home in five."
I collapsed onto my bed and let myself shed all the tears that I wanted.
