Dirt

11

Knox

I've never been strong enough. Surely on the outside, I have been. I've been strong enough to keep Grace as invincible as possible. I've been strong enough to keep our lives afloat as Mom took needle after needle all the way to prison; not a thought about her children and their already rocky life. 

I've been strong enough to rub elbows with the boys who were strong; The boys who shook off problems and laughed in the way of a future. I've been strong enough to pretend to every adult in the city that Mom was purely out of town visiting family, she wouldn't be longer than a week and we could surely get by that long. I've been strong enough to lie about how much I hated my mother -because I should. I've been strong enough to wrap harmonies and melodies around my head so I can make it through the uncomfortable and the weak. 

But I've never been as strong as everyone else. Not as strong as Grace when Mom didn't show up to see her solo in the choir concert despite constant assurance she'd be there. Not as strong as Mom when the other mothers found out where her children's dad was. Not as strong as Eddie when his grandmother finally lost her battle to cancer in the eighth grade. Not strong enough to ignore all the missing cash from my wallet when I started to work. 

Not strong enough to ignore all strange looks and dirty glares when I came out; Not strong enough to ignore the rejected feeling when some of the boys who'd I'd been friends with my whole life called me a faggot and spat on my shoes. Not strong enough to hate my mom despite all the horrible things she did to deserve the stripping of her mother title; she kept it, I've never been strong enough to forget all the times she made me chicken soup when I was sick and all the times she made our birthday cakes.

I've never been strong enough, but I've been strong enough to pretend I am. Until the real world hits and I have to face all the stronger people in the world. Then I truly know my weakness.

"C-can't..." Can't what? Can't he just knock it off and get back to normal? Can't he just focus on the good things? Can't he just realize so many other things are happening? Can't he realize he's hurting everyone around him? Can't he realize how much everyone loves him and cares about him?

When Mom hurt herself I would ask all of that. I could actively see her sabotaging herself without too much care. I could see guilt flicker in her eyes for a moment when I caught her coming in late at night, or when she came home after being out for a whole day without Grace and me knowing where she was. But she covered it so quickly that it made you realize she didn't feel enough guilt to stop it all. We weren't enough guilt or enough of an achievement for her to stop ruining us all night after night. 

I would lay awake, Grace sleeping across the hall hopefully not as caught up in her mind as I am. I would let music try to distract me, try to find an organization in harmony when there was no organization to live. 

But, if I'm getting this right, Princeton doesn't understand life around him well enough to understand there's guilt to his actions. Princeton doesn't have enough understanding of his actions to realize how he was hurting himself. If I'm getting it right, Princeton can't control what's happening.

 'I'm an idiot, but I'm not your mother, Knox. Trust me, if I had people left as worthy as you and your sister I would have never fucked that up.'

'Sure, I dissemble but I know how it feels to be alone.'

"Can't he do something about it? Isn't there medication or therapy or something?" My voice betrayed my attempt to seem indifferent. It cracked and rose as if I had just been told I had a terminal illness.