The Lies We Told On Thursday Nights

33. Wednesday: Care-less (Levi) (b)

Hi!!

I am very very sorry for missing my update these past weeks. I'd been working on the chapter throughout the week, unfortunately, this past week I came down with some sort of respiratory infection, so have had no energy whatsoever so I've hardly left the couch. But I'm feeling better today so I finished the chapter. I know I said I'd have two this week, but that didn't happen.

Levi (part B)

Wednesday 7:15 pm

"Levi?" My mom called curiously from outside my room. "You in there?"

I was laying on my bedroom floor like a corpse. My hair was gathering, and I was eye level of the tower of dirty clothes and chips bags.

But I belonged here; on the floor, like a piece of trash.

I could hardly speak. I gave an inaudibly 'mhhm.'

Unlike other kids, I wasn't concerned with my mom coming in.

And I'm glad because at the moment my left arm was bleeding. I was letting the blood drip onto the strewn clothes enclosing my limp body.

"Dinner ready. Come down," she said hesitantly, but still slightly perky. Sit down meals were sporadic§onlyhappened when really good things occurred or horrible things.r

I wasn't in the mood, even the greatest news in the world would not save me from the disaster I've created.

I still had my phone in my right hand.

I held the phone to my head, wishing it were a pistol. God, I wanted my phone to be a pistol.

"I'm not hungry," I replied, trying not to cry.

There was some shuffling.

"Your dad, he's here. We just want to have a chat," she sounded distant.

"I'm not-"I rebuked, trying muster up some manly voice.

"RACHEL! Get your goddamn son down for dinner right now!" my father's cold voice echoed throughout the house.

He never calls me "my son" unless its to parade my sports skills to colleges, he'd wrap his arms around me and tell the onlookers, "This is my son."

I wonder if any of the cameras caught that when he lays his hands on my shoulders, I grow pale and panicked.

My mom let out a low growl, "Levi. Come downstairs. now."

I wasn't sure if she was aggressive towards her husband or me. It could easily be a catch 20-2; we both annoy her and take her away from her work.

I mean, my parents never really talk. Even late at night, I never hear a thing. My dad is typically away, or when he is home, my mom sleeps on the couch. It's not a happy marriage.

I wanted to remain on this floor until I'd bleed out. But I got up.

I threw on my darkest sweatshirt that I knew would prevent blood from showing.

And I walked out the door.

My mom stumbled a few steps, surprised I listened to her request.

SHe stared at me for a moment, as if something about me caught her off guard. As if she noticed something. As if she saw me. It looked like she was having a painful epiphany. But then it vanished. She eyes me with a look of pity, but then shrugged. And continued on her own down the stairs.

I followed my mom. Once we entered the dining room, I watched as the maid (wearing a cooking apron) scurried out.

I eyed the perfectly roasted chicken and green beans on the perfect porcelain platter.