Just A Girl

Chapter 2

As I finish sweeping up the glass I pick up the picture frame.

There it is. All four of us. Dad, Mom, my older brother Titan, and I.

Memories began to flood back and I felt a tear attempting to swell inside my eye. Tilting my head back I blink rapidly hoping it soaks back up and doesn't fall.

"I'm no crier." I said outloud. Titan wouldn't want me to cry anyway.

He was always sick and in pain, but he always smiled at me. He was a fighter. Dad would tell us that while Titan was in the womb he fought to live. Doctors told my mom and dad he wouldn't make it, but they would say, "God has the final say so."

When Titan was born, dad knew he needed a strong name. He said, "Titan Samson Parker is his name." His chest sticking out proudly with a grin spread across his handsome face. Mom would always reenact the moment before things got the way they were. It use to be so fun and we use to be so happy...

My mom would tell me that dad and Titan would play wrestle and laugh all night if she let them. Dad loved him with every breath he took.

When Titan was three years old, I was born. Mom and dad said I was the completion to the family.

Fast forward a few years and Titan began to get sick. Mom and dad were afraid that his sudden illness was an onset of a diagnosis they put behind them after he was born.

Anyways... I'm sick if dwelling in that place of sadness... Titan will always remain a fighter in my heart. I know he wants me to fight for our family, but I can't. I'm just not strong like he is.

I'm no fighter.

I sighed and slid down the wall, clutching the picture to my chest. I shifted my eyes to the ceiling and whispered, "God please heal us."

As I closed my eyes I felt a cool chill run over me. It was soothing and reassuring. Maybe it was God, or maybe I was "worshipping air" as my dad would tell my mom.

Either way. I know something was heard.

I continued to clean and straighten up the living room. "Little Lady" being my tune to help the time pass by.

At sixteen years old you would think I would be ecstatic about  the possibilities of getting older but honestly I did not care.

Life to me was just full of motions. Careless motions. Inconsiderate motions. Selfish motions. Even lazy motions. 

One unanswered prayer after another.

My mom would probably freak out if she knew I felt like that but I can't tell her how I feel. She has enough to deal with as it is. Why add "depressed, suicidal, antisocial teenage daughter" to the mix?

I heard the sound of slight groaning to my right. I peaked over the couch to get a better look. I watched my mom as she attempted to regain her consciousness.

Her delicate fingers combed through her hair. They made their way down to her flushed cheeks as she patted her face. She straightened her posture and fixed her clothes.

"UGH!" I thought to myself. She seriously had to stop this "Pleasantville" persona.

I let out a soft sigh and she glanced over at me. As we made eye contact I could have sworn I seen sadness in her eyes, but as quick as it was there, it was replaced with a twinkle and a reassuring smile.

I don't get it, but then again what would I gain from asking her if she was sad. Why would she even want to talk to me about her feelings at all?

I wanted to know if my mother was hurting or not. I wanted to know if she felt locked in a box and the only air she could breath was from a tiny hole that can barely be seen out of. I wanted to know if she knew that I was hurting too...

Feeling defeated I finished cleaning the mess and walked back upstairs to my room. Before I went through my door, I glanced to my left at Titan's room.

I miss him so much.