Lightness

Chapter Four

The first day of school was truthfully uneventfull. Some teachers weren't present, leaving us with a few hours (I'm being generous a few minutes every hour would be more acurate) of classes in the morning.

Time flies, and today I have to cook. I really don't know what to do, I wanna cook something tasty and good, so my parents will be pleased. I romage through the fridge and I find some pork chopes, bell peppers and castanhas, and that gives me an idea. I will make some pork chops with a spicy bell pepper and castanha sauce, and fried white rice. I smile at my self it sounds tasty already.
While I'm cooking the smell is amazing, I'm so proud that I could do something that smelled so well, I taste a bit of the sauce and I'm in heaven, it tastes as good as it smells. There is no way they won't like it. I set the table, I heat my brothers lunch that my mother cooked yesterday and wait for the remaining minutes until my parents arrival.
When I hear the jingle of keys at the door I start to feel uneasy, I barelly cooked during the summer, and I did something that sounded deliciouse to me, that is never a good idea.
I hear the childish laughter of my brother and the soft voice of my mother anouncing her presence with the usual "Good afternoon my angel, we're home!" and my father bruttish voice with a harsh "Is the food ready? I'm hungry.".
I rush nervously to the lobby regreting every second of the last almost two hours, smile uneasilly and anounce that everything is set for us to eat.
I sit and wait for my parents to serve themselves. My mother fawning around my brother and his antics during meal time, while she serves my father dish and hers. My mother smiles at me when she tastes the food, I feel a little better. But when I look at my father, the look of distaste in his face sets the tone for the dread I feel building up inside.
I look down at my plate, trying to block out the fact that he hasn't toutch his food, or said a word in the last seconds. Rapidally I evoke an image in my head, where my family is perfect and he'll try my food and even if it were the worst thing he ever ate we would smile at me, and tell me it has potencial. But my family isn't perfect and I am rudelly pulled from my imaginary rende vouz by my fathers booming voice "What the fuck is this shit?". The prickeling felling behind my jaw and my eyes and the tensing of my body is acoupanied by the defening silence that falls upon the house, slowly folowed by the shallow snifelling of my brother crying at my fathers agressive tone, I never understood why he cried, he was never the subject of my fathers ire, he was his baby boy. The boy that he wanted.
He shouts again "I've asked, what the fuck is this shit!" and stands up, my mother follows suit and answers "If you tried it you would see it is delicouses it is so good." I can fell his eyes on me, but I don't want to look at him, I don't want him to see that I'm scared, I don't want to seem weak. But as always I am, because I'm mortified, scared of what might come as a consequence of his rage.
"I'm talking to you look at me and answer! What. Is. This. Shit?"
I look up, to his eyes. I don't want hin to get even madder than what he is right now, and lowly stutter "It was in the fridge, it thought it would be a good meal..." I feel the neddle like tears threatning to come out, the burning sensation in my face for trying to keep them at bay.
"Nuts in my lunch! You thought NUTS in my lunch was a good idea? Why can't you be more like your mother and learn how to cook proper food? This shit isn't food!"
I see him picking up his plate and to try and walk around the table, my mother blocks him. She always tries to protect me, but I honestly think she is scared of him when he is like this, and I don't blame her. "What are you gonna do? And the food is good, maybe if stop dictating was is wrong and not you could enjoy more things! Lots pf people put nut in their meals, and it is damn good!", he side tracks her waking towards me like looking at her "I work all fucking day every day, the only thing I ask of her is that she is a proper woman and a good student. And she is useless at both things." He looks at me, with that rage and anger fulled gaze that I unfortunatly know so well, I feel the air trapped in my throut and a knot in my belly, "Do you think anyone will want you? You can't even cook, men don't want women who can't do their jobs!", I look down at my plate again, I can't take it. He stopped besides me opens the bin and ditshed his plate and food in the bin. And keeps walkibg towards the door. My mother starts shouting "What do you think you're doing? That food costs money! Money that I too work to earn, you are desrespecting me by doing that! Where do you think you're going? Come here right now!". I hear his heavy footsetps and the jingle of keep with his shout "Out! To eat some proper food!", and he leaves.
I release a shaky breath that I was holding, and feel the tears finally streaming down my face, I side glance at my brother he is terrefied silently crying, just like me. I finally look at my mother she is still standing up, heaving. She sits down quietly and looks at me with sad eyes. "It is tasty my angel, it really is. And I know you're just trying to find out who you are and your own style but..." she takes a shaky breath "... don't do it again if your father comes home for the meal, you can do this dishes just for me. I like it." She looks down at her plate, then at his chair and back at me "You can't challenge him, you know how he get."
I dry swallow the lump in my throuht and nod my head. I put a little bit of food on my plate and start eating, I feel the tears, my body shaking, the dull pain in my face from trying to stop the tears, and the bland taste of my food. It no long tastes good, it is as bland and plain as I am... as useless as me.