My family seems to be perfect from the outside looking in. We have the big house, the money for things, the million-dollar-smiles... but nothing is ever as it seems.
We're plastic. We're fake. So fake, in fact, that we hide the little things abo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I miss the entire week of school.
The week after that is a mess. Everything is planned and I can go to almost nothing, and everyone keeps rubbing the memory and the truth of John being gone in my face, making me bleed in every way but physically. I put on my doll face and pretend I'm okay, pretend his death doesn't weigh on me as hard as it should, pretend everything has changed at home. But really the only change has been my mothers' overprotection. She still drinks and tries to hide it, but I can smell it on her as soon as she walks in the room, almost.
My dad is always gone still, though I can't tell if he's home any more than he used to be.
I can't smell anything when both my parents leave for the next series of days and it's just Tobiah and I at home, but I never hear him leave. I wonder if he's doing crack at those times or not, or if he's just sleeping...
Depression hits me hard. I'm not afraid to admit it and there's not anything else to call it. I mean, what do you call that emptiness in your body, in your heart that completely devourers who you are and all you stand for. What else is it that makes you wish you didn't exist?
If depression isn't the word then I don't know what is.
Do I wish I was dead? No. I know God put me here for a reason.
But I do wish I were never born...
Dahlia says nothing to me until she blocks me off from leaving the classroom. I abruptly stop using my crutches, leaning on the top padded part of them.
"How are you?" She asks.
"I'm fine." I say a little more sassily than I mean to. "I'm going to be late for class."
She sighs and moves out of the way to let me through.
And she also makes the decision to follow me down the hall.
"How are you really?" She asks.
"I told you." My irritation is growing as she walks beside me. "I'm fine."
"But you're not."
"Look Dahlia!" I explode. The hallway falls silent. "I'm fine. I don't need any pity or something to make me feel better, I just want to be left alone!"
"Listen here, Barbie," She hisses. "You can't keep pretending like everything in your little life is perfect! You can't hide forever, Amabel!"
"Yeah? Well you would have no idea what I go through each day. Your little family of adopted kids is happy and you have nothing to hide."
I start to walk away, as much as I can walk on crutches.
"Everyone has something to hide, Barbie. Especially you."
I shake my head as I get farther away from her.
"At least I don't have to hide my flaws!" She calls as I turn into a classroom.
