To Feel What I Feel

Would Be Fake

"Tell me why you did this." Dad says, looking down at me. I stopped caring earlier that week, and now I'm having fun. 

"To be honest, I'm quite a stupid person." I say for laughs. His eyes squint, and he waves his hand out, impatiently.

"But why?" he asks, again.

"I can't really say why I'm stupid, I just am." I say, losing the smile. I had to make him think that this was how I felt on the inside. Lectures were fun now. 

"No, hun, why did you empty your room? Are you moving out?" 

"I don't know." I say, looking away. Even faking it, it still hurt. 

"Then why would you clean your room?" dad asks.

"You told me to clean that room?!" I snap, sitting up. I refused to call the room mine because I felt like a prisoner anyways.

"I know, hun, but it's so empty in there that I can't tell that you're still living here."

"Well, thats your problem, not mine. You need to be careful what you wish for." I say, laughing internally. I do want to move out, but I can't, financially. Mom walks into the living room and sits at her desk.

"I like how clean your room is, Sarah." she says like I cared what she thought. 

"Ok, thanks, mom." I say to be polite. 

"It's unacceptable that you'd clean out your room so much that it looks like you don't live here anymore." dad says.

"Well, that's unfair. I shouldn't have to have stuff in there I don't want." I exclaim.

"I want to know that you live here, and that you like living here." dad says. I hate living here, but I nod.

"I just cleaned my room, give me a break." I say.

"And do you like living here?" dad says. He's getting too personal, but I can't do anything.

"I'm living here aren't I? I signed the lease for another year, didn't I?" I ask.

"Is that a yes or must I force it out of you?" dad asks, in a deep voice.

"Fine, I like living here. Dad, come on, all I did was clean my room. It's not a big deal." I say.

"What's fine? Are you lying to us?" Mom asks, like she's included somehow in the conversation.

"No, mom, I'm not lying. I like living here, and all I did was clean my room. Stop drilling me." I say. So much for having fun with this. 

"Don't talk to your mother that way." Dad jumps in. 

"Ok, mom, I'm sorry." I say, quickly, meeting my dad's eyes. He's still squinting. What'd I do?

"Let me get this straight, you just cleaned your room because I told you to. And you're not planning on moving out. Is that somewhat accurate?" dad asks.

"Yes. Can I go to my room now?" I ask, impatient.

"You just came out here?" mom says, worried.

"I came out here because dad asked me out. I was in my room-"

"What? What were you doing in your room?" mom asks, cutting me off.

"Reading." I lie. It was the easiest lie in the world. 

"Sure, go to your room." dad says, hard. He's still upset about something, but I don't have the energy to find out what. I stand and retreat to my room. I close the door behind me, and open my laptop. I press play, and continue watching Supernatural.