I'm OK!

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

It took a while before we broke the kiss, more to come up for air than anything else. We actually went to my hotel instead of shopping, so I could get a fresh change of clothes, and we went straight to the beach afterwards. It was quite a drive, but definitely worth it. The wind swept through my hair, the salty air coming from the sea making me feel clean from the inside out. I don’t know how it works, but for some reason the sea always reminds me that it is always possible to start over. No matter what footprints you leave in the sand, the tides will come in and clean it again, or the wind will scatter the grains and you’ll start with a fresh, clean, sheet.

There weren’t many people around today, and we walked, talking mostly about our happiest memories. I could remember very clearly my favorite memory, and I scrolled back in time, to my teenager years. Now, most people don’t have the happiest of childhoods, and I have to say that quickly after this memory my life changed for the worse, but maybe that is the reason why this specific memory is so dear to me…

Fourth of July was always a big event. Picnics being organized, or barbeques with the neighbors. Sometimes even a pool party with the other kids on the street. And today was no different than any other year. Dad had been planning for weeks to get used to his new barbeque. And mom made sure the house was clean and organized, which wasn’t easy considering Mark left his clothes lying around everywhere! Ever since he came back from college to spend the summer at home, the house was a mess and my mum was getting a bit more on edge every single day because of it. Now, she was as neurotic as they come, everything always had to be clean and organized, and her battle against the bacteria always seemed to be a lost cause. She spent every single moment of her life cleaning.

Must be one of the reasons why she doesn’t touch people. I think most of our neighborhood knew this, but they still showed up for the barbeque, some of them with a bottle of wine or a six pack of beer, others with a homemade pie or salads. She never handled the food though, always asked me to do that, so she wouldn’t have to touch it. Thankfully dad was in charge of the food and he told me where to put what.

It sounds strange, but this was one of the very few relatively normal days that I had. And it was why I liked it so much. Mark was still alive. My dad was still alive. And my mum was neurotic and OCD as hell, but I didn’t know better. Someone was taking pictures, and there is a nice one I still have saved on my computer, the four of us. All of us smiling, tanned from the sun, relaxed. I think my mum must’ve had a few glasses of wine, as she was standing close to my dad, not actually touching, but close enough to look like a real family. Until today, I have no idea how either my brother or I were conceived, if they didn’t touch, but just the idea of my parents doing ‘it’ would put me off for a week, so I just filed it under other Immaculate Conception. It happened before, right ?

Talking about this memory made me smile… but what had followed afterwards, had chills creeping up my spine…

It was only a few weeks later, when my brother and my mother were arguing. A lot. I had seen it coming of course, my brother being a complete jerk and making everything as messy as possible, just to annoy my mum. Shouting at her why she was such an uptight bitch, why couldn’t she be like a real mother. Why couldn’t she be normal, and hug them and not be disgusted by her own children.

Some of these thoughts had been plaguing me for the last years, but never had I voiced them, knowing how they would break her, how they would damage her even further…

During the argument, my dad must’ve gotten home. He probably heard most of it, heard how my brother was shouting at her, how she was crying, not answering back. Just standing there, breaking further apart with every word thrown at her like a brick through a window.