We Know Better

Last Stop

Thank you for getting my ass going on writing Carrie. You a real one <3

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Prom was the last diversion before the swell of AP exams. The oncoming wave has a way of making my lungs swell up so big that there is no way I could possibly hope to fill them. Days upon days, weeks on weeks, of stress have led to today: the weekend before. I would like to say that I have been making use of my time and studying, but the reality is I have never had to study in my life. For the better part of my seventeen years, I have been able to coast by on natural ability and sheer, anxious willpower. I almost wish that I had been worse at things, because I would have at least been forced to develop a mechanism for failing. But as it stands, I am unequipped to ensure success and unable to face failure. I can just imagine what my father will have to say if I do not succeed as I always have. It is uncomfortably easy as I hear him yelling downstairs.

I have my AP Bio book and notes open in front of me, trying to do what I have seen Brendon doing whenever we do work together. Studying is a stable and familiar concept to him, not an abstract and intangible idea like it is for me. It is also nearly ten o'clock at night and if Brendon were here he would be telling me that I do not really gain anything from forcing material into a tired mind. Except, I feel as though I have been sitting here, staring at this information the entire day and imploring it to tell me where to start. I have been exhausted for days, so forcing this information into a tired mind is my only option at this point.

I flick my wrist sharply ten times before impeling as much air into my bloated lungs as I can, and then I pick up my notes. There is the printed out study guide which is made up of vocabulary words and little else. I don't even know where to start. Evolution. That's so simple and so overwhelming. What about Evolution? "Everything," had been my teacher's answer when someone asked what information we should be focusing on when it came to these terms. I pinch the bridge of my nose and I hear the loud smack of something on the kitchen counter. My whole body jolts and then continues to rattle with the bass of my father's tone reverberating through the whole house structure.

I am sure that the neighbors can hear us. Dear god I can just imagine what they must think. I can feel the covert and haughty whispers of our white neighbors discussing that black family at the end of the lane. It's unavoidable, you can see it in the way they eye my father as he comes and goes from the house or the way they give my mother pursed lipped smiles when they pass her by. My family has been living in this neighborhood since it opened, since before I was even born, and we have watched them deliver tensed nods to us while warmly welcoming newcomers who look and act more like them. It's the way that all the other little kids could play with each other, but none of them could play with us.

The door to the garage slams shut with a violent shake to my walls. I pray that that is the end of it for tonight and resist the urge to climb into my closet behind my formal dresses like I would when I was younger. I seem to have forgotten how to breathe and the moment I notice the panic sets in. I hear the heavy door open again and I find myself flinching even before it smashes closed. His voice is going again and I can hear him talking about my sister and I. He is complaining about us. Pointing out all of our shortcomings and blaming my mom for them. My head feels like it has bubbled off from my neck. I can hear my own voice telling myself to relax and the slap of my nail against the thin skin of my wrist as I flick it repeatedly. Even as I stare down at myself doing it, the feeling begins to numb. My fingers fumble for my phone. It's twenty minutes after ten, so Brendon should be off of work by now. I slide my finger across the screen and his face lights up on it before I press it tightly against my ear. It takes a couple of moments before his voice comes through muffled and I realize that it is because I have it so hard against my ear.