Nothing To See Here

Chapter 7 - Badlands

Despite my joy in my sister finally letting herself be vulnerable, I still felt so hollow when I think of what I did to her. I remember for a while I used to pretend that it wasn't my own selfish actions that led her being detained in that mental hospital, like it wasn't just me wanting to live without her constant masked sadness and depression, that it was my parents who influenced me to do it. I even tried to pretend that our mother was scared of Crybaby, and she would have wanted me to put her away. 

But that couldn't be further from the truth, Crybaby was my mother's rock, her only reason for living, and even though she drank too much, she would always spend her nights holding Crybaby in her arms while she wept about her husbands' infidelity. Towards me, however, my mother couldn't give a damn because I looked too much like my father and every time she looked me in the eyes all I could see in her face was anger and contempt towards me. Even after she killed my father I saw her come into my room that night, bloody knife in hand looking so drunk and angry that I thought she was going to kill me along with them but for a split second, I saw regret in her eyes before she left me alone in my room. 

The days after she was arrested for drugging and murder all she could say was "I want Crybaby" until we were allowed to go visit her. 

And when we did she ran up to Crybaby, apologizing over and over again with tears running down her face until they both had started crying profusely. I remember watching them with such bitterness, my throat closing up and my chest getting tight as I watched my own mother betray me and not apologize so what she did to me. To make matters worse, Crybaby defended my mother in court, claiming that it was an "accident" and whenever we would be together in the house, all that she could talk about was Mom, not how I felt not about how anyone else felt. To this day, my mother's name produces such a sour feeling in me. 

My dad on the other hand, when he wasn't cheating on my mom, he was the world's most perfect dad. He'd sign me and Crybaby up for ballet lessons, takes us to the fair, essentially just being there for us. And his death took such a toll on me, and I know that he never really emotionally depended on any of us, but my dad took up his space and my mother's place in my heart. He talked to me about high school stuff, took me to rehab, remembered my birthday when the others didn't, made cookies with me and he was just... there for me. Knowing that my mother ripped him away from me is one of the reasons that I could never willingly bring myself to meet her. 

All the time while I was reflecting on this, I was staring in the mirror. My hair has grown out into a brown-turquoise style with a bob, my makeup was less dramatic as usual, and I smiled a lot more.

"Time flies, I guess," I mumbled to myself as I adjusted my red dress. 

Crybaby isn't the only one with a date tonight.