sonder

induratize

Chapter Twenty Three

Induratize

(v.) to make one's own heart hardened or resistant to someone's pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.

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I could hear my mom's giggling voice even with my door being closed and my headphones blaring music. The way she laughed sounded so far from herself that it made me angry at her and at who I assumed was on the other line. I resented the fact that she found herself back in his arms, right back to the place that caused her so much heartache and hatred. Mostly though, I hated that I couldn't escape it or control it.

All I wished I could do was scream at her about how horrible their relationship was, about how every night I used to cry myself to sleep just to drown out the noise of their yelling. The thought of having to relive all that was my parents' relationship in love made my skin burn in frustration. I especially didn't want to put my brother and sister through that, their childhoods didn't need the tainting of what I experienced.

A knock on my door surprised me, my mind being lifted out of my thoughts with the sound. My music continued to blast from my headphones as I opened the door wide to see Austin standing in front of me, his face looking worn from sleep and annoyed.

"What's up, buddy?" I question, reminding myself that I shouldn't tell him that it was past his bedtime anymore.

"Can I come in?" His feet making their way into my room without waiting for a response. He takes a seat on the floor, his back leaning against my bed with ease. I couldn't even recall the last time he'd been in here more than a minute, let alone sitting down and making himself at home.

"What's wrong?" I request, softer and more fragile sounding as I take the place next to my brother. The music coming from my phone seem to have no effect on him but I pause it with ease, knowing that now is not the time to be listening to background music.

He sighs, quietness being the result of my question. I continue to wait for him to speak, taking in the features of his face that look so much like my own. Austin's face cringes at the voice of our mom whose phone call seems to never end.

"Are mom and dad getting back together?" He whispers, his eyes meeting mine as he awaits an answer.

I shrug my shoulders, defeat weighing down my body. "I don't know, I really don't."

Austin sighs, his body slumping further into my bed as he rests his head on my shoulder. "I just, I just don't understand why she'd go back to the guy who left her out of no where."

My brother's words make me think back on how my dad's abrupt disappearance affected me. I had been so caught up with how hurt I had been that I didn't even think about how it would affect Austin, I'd always just assumed that he was way too young to really understand or notice. Disappoint in myself washes over me, my cheek resting on top of Austin's with a sigh.

"I don't really understand it either, but we'll make it through. We always do." I tell him, the heaviness of the past six years hitting me all at once. "We always do." I repeat, whispering this time as we both sit in silence, listening to the mask of our parents' budding conversation.

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Austin quietly tiptoes out of my room after we heard our mother's feet patter up the stairs, the brushing closed the signal we waited for just to be safe. We stayed silent for the majority of his time in my room, our ears picking up the sound of our mother's phone call made small talk nearly impossible.

"Hey Kali..." I hear Austin whisper into the darkness, his figure barely visible as I'm about to close my door.

"Yeah?" I answer, my vision straining to see him.

"I really like Damian." He casually mentions before his footsteps continue up the hall and around the corner to the staircase. I close my door as his words float through my brain. A sense of accomplishment floods over me at the thought of Damian meeting my brother's approval; however, my head soon falls into the darkness that is my parents' divorce, a hole I usually stay clear of. My head begins to pound as I think about it, a tight contracting feeling overcoming my head and making me wish that I could make it all just go away.

Over and over again I hear my mom yelling, my eyes tightly closing as I picture a much smaller version of myself curled in a ball in the centre of my bed. My body sinks to the foot of my door, everything in my body consumed by the harsh reality of my belief of love.

'Who is she?' rumbles through the corners of my consciousness like thunder announcing the oncoming storm. The increased volume of my parents' screaming match heightens my senses, making me feel as if I am back in that moment. I remember silently praying under my breath to make everything go away, to allow silence to creep up and stay.

Counselling, philander, and divorce became added to my vocabulary when I was much too young. The stomping of feet throughout the house was deafening after the yelling ended, I was marching to the beat, counting down the beat until silence elapsed. It was the kind of eery quiet filled with sadness and discomfort; that was how I recall my childhood.

On one night in particular, I remember walking into my parents' bedroom only to see my mom crying. It was the type of crying where you are completely outside of yourself, lost in the distance as your body shivered with fear. I curled into her side, wrapping my little arms around, and told her that I loved her. She chad silent reminiscent streams of water falling from her eyes when she said I should get going to bed. I nodded reluctantly and walked the short distance back to my room, the light from downstairs still burning brightly. My dad's hushed whispers sounded to be comforting someone else; however, I convinced myself that it was okay and that tomorrow night wouldn't be a repeat.

The night that my father didn't show up for dinner, my innocence and naivety dissolved into shattered pieces of my fantasy life. I figured it was about time I grew up anyways, I hadn't stopped that mentality either since he disappeared.

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