When We Were Young

I: memories

Seven

The door shuts behind me.

My little hand moves to turn the lock as the screaming downstairs intensifies. I look in the mirror and I let myself cry.

"You just let people walk all over you! Don't you have a backbone?" I hear my mom yell in Mandarin from the kitchen. A slam follows and she speaks again, this time her voice raised even higher in challenge. "Go ahead, hit me! Hit your wife!"

I plug my ears.

I know my dad wouldn't hit my mom, but the loud bangs from hand slamming onto the table is enough for any little girl to want to escape.

Why couldn't I have nice, normal parents who loved each other? Or at least parents who didn't blow up at each other every other week? I've found myself sitting against the bathtub with my ears plugged far too many times in the last few months.

Well... not this bathtub, but the bathtub at my old house. We recently just moved to a new neighbourhood, just in time for the first day of school. Our house now is bigger and the neighbourhood is clearly richer, with lawns that expand far in front of the houses. I miss my old room and my old friends, but even at a young age, I know the necessity of upgrading the size of our living space after the new addition of my baby brother.

I take my fingers out of my ears for just a moment, only to hear my father's rough voice yell, "Why don't we get a divorce then?"

My fingers immediately go back and I do my best to push my thoughts elsewhere. I've gotten very good at this; thinking other thoughts while my parents were ripping each other's throats out downstairs. Escaping became so easy and almost enjoyable.

I think of my old friends, playing games on the field of our elementary school during recess. We would pick up pieces of grass and put them in our mouths to pretend we were farmers or play ridiculous amounts of wall ball until we were all panting of exhaustion. However, my favourite scenario is one that I made up: I'm in middle school and I am no longer the shy, awkward little kid I am now, but instead the social butterfly that everyone loves. I have friends for days, but one best friend whom I love and would trust with my life. I also have a cute boy eyeing me from across the hall every day.

Deep down, I know that is nothing but a fantasy.

After a significant amount of time spent daydreaming, I hear my dad's voice and his knuckles knocking against the bathroom door.

"Mave, are you in there?"

I get up from my curled position, stretching out my legs and glancing at myself in the mirror. Luckily, I had stopped crying awhile ago and now, looked nearly normal.

I open the washroom door to reveal daddy's face, scrunched up in worry. He puts a hand underneath my chin to examine my face before asking, "Are you okay?"

Not making eye contact, I pull his hand away from me and step aside to clear a pathway for myself to get out of this situation. Both my parents already have so much to deal with between a newborn baby and the clear issues in their relationship, they did not need to worry about their seven year old daughter too.

"I'm fine, daddy."

~ ~ ~

My new school is only a five minute walk from my house. In fact, I live on the same street as the school.

The first day is very daunting. As soon as I entered Mrs. Bentley's classroom, I feel as though I don't belong. Everyone is huddled in groups with their friends and I am the only new girl in the class.