A Pact for Eternity

Don't Call Me Broody

When I woke up it was six in the afternoon- the next day. I recognized the Lancasters' family photo staring at me, and I wished to go back to sleep. The elated feeling was gone, and I was left with the truth of what had happened. Shame threatened to make me peel off my skin so I could disown myself.

Trying to escape the feeling of self-hatred, I stared into the wooden rafters. The grooves still entertained my mind. Lines and cracks deepened into chasms and ravines. The world was still too sharp for my brain to comprehend. Everything glimmered with vibrance and complexity. Details jumped out at me like they wanted to rip out my eyeballs.

I glanced over the living room, trying to make my eyes not focus too hard on anything. Blankets were folded, books put up, and wrappers off the floor. The sunlight coming in from the french doors engulfed the room with warmth. Unlike the night before- the house was friendly. It welcomed me, but now I didn't want to come in.

Whispers buzzed from the kitchen behind me. Something felt like it was racing around my head and crawling out my ear. I shook my head like there was water trapped inside my ears. The rushing stopped, buzzing turned to mumbles, and the mumbles turned to words.

Finn saying, "Well, I think that she will be fine."

"Don't be so sure. That will be up to her." That was definitely Mr. Lancaster talking.

Finn began to say something, but he caught sight of me glancing over the couch. One leg at a time, I placed my feet on the carpet. The maroon blanket I had forgotten about fell off as I stood.

My legs felt as if they had been traded out for a 2.0 model. No crickety ankle, no sore shins, and no swollen calf muscles. My lower back pain was gone and so was my constantly stiff neck.

I twirled my ankles around in circles, and for the first time in three years, they didn't pop. I stopped and turned to face Finn and his father. They stood over a laid-out book on the granite counter. Both pairs of eyes partially glanced up to look towards me. I walked over and sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

Thomas hadn't been there when I came back, but he knew. Finn stared at his father as he decided to wrap me in a hug, knocking the breath out of me.

"You should have known a long time ago. But someone-" He slyly pointed to Finn. "thought it would be a bad idea. "

I gave him the most sincere smile and laugh I could offer. He was trying to be sweet and polite. However, I only cared about knowing what they had both been talking about.

Finn walked up next to his father, who stood almost half a foot taller than him. "Are you feeling better than you did yesterday?"

"Sure, whatever. What were you all talking about? " I wanted to scream at him. Tell him how I really felt about what happened.

Realization swept over his face. "You learned about the hearing thing didn't you?"

"I heard you all, so I guess I did. Still gotta answer the question though." My fingers began drumming against my right thigh.

Finn looked back at his father, who stared back at his book so he wouldn't have to be involved in the conversation. "We were just talking about how you were going to deal with all this. Nothing to worry about. "

I could usually tell when he was lying because we lied the same way. Add unnecessary details in hopes you sound more sincere. This time though, he made sure I couldn't read him.

Usually, we were so brutally honest with each other, people thought we were actually mad. Now he was treating me like he didn't want to upset me in any way. It was too late though. I felt shameful for losing control and I was disgusted by the truth of what had happened to me. Self-hatred spread like vines and I couldn't stop them from consuming me.