Days dragged into weeks, and I became more depressed every minute. I never stopped trying to talk to my family, but I had little opportunity. I hadn't seen any of them for days, and I was tired of having so much time alone. My stupid hormones made me start crying every time I thought of... well, anything to do with life at the moment. I felt oddly detached, like I was observing someone else.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, examining my hands. I kept them in my pockets all the time, so they were very pale. I had calluses on them from all the work I used to do outside, and from writing. The fingers were long and dainty, which annoyed me. How was anyone supposed to take me seriously if I looked so fragile?
I closed my father's casket with these hands. I wiped away all my tears and hid my face with these hands. I wrote positive sentences over and over again, and I dug my nails into my skin to contain my emotions with these hands.
I felt the reminders burning in my eyes and throat like fire.
A knock on the front door distracted me from my thoughts, saving me from bursting into tears. I was also slightly shocked. Who would come over here?
"Coming!" I called as the person knocked again. Wrenching the door open, I stood face to face with an unfamiliar woman and... Emily.
"Hello?" I said uncertainly.
"Hi, is your mother here?" the woman asked in a bright voice.
I was a bit suspicious of the exaggerated happiness in her tone. "No, she's out at the moment. My brother is here, though, if you want to talk to him...?"
She chuckled, putting a hand on Emily's shoulder. "No, that won't be necessary. I can talk to you, and you can pass on the message. Unless you're too busy?"
I shook my head and invited her in. "Is this about Emily?" I asked warily.
The woman sighed. "Yes, actually. My name is Georgia Hernan, Emily's friend's mother. I overheard Emily telling my daughter that she's been having some problems with her home life."
Oh, I should've known. This is what her overly-bright tone was about. "Okay... Emily? Why didn't you tell any of us that something was wrong?" I asked, even though I knew perfectly well. This was all an act for the stranger. I had to act like the concerned big sister... or mother.
Emily glared at me. "When is anyone home to talk to?"
I laughed bitterly. All these nights I'd stayed up just in case anyone came home, and she doesn't even notice? "Emily... when was the last time you came home and I wasn't sitting up waiting for you?" I asked her softly.
She didn't reply.
Georgia didn't seem to notice how upset we both were. "Is your mother usually gone?" she inquired.
Emily and I both nodded at the same time.
Georgia frowned. "Well, is your older brother?"
Emily nodded and I shook my head.
"When are you ever here, Emily? How can you know?" I asked rhetorically.
My little sister thought she knew everything, but she didn't.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. If Emily didn't notice how hard I was trying, then perhaps Leo and my mother didn't either!
"Thank you for coming," I told Georgia extra-politely, considering I was about to kick her out. "But I think it's time for you to be going."
She smiled understandingly. "Just talk with your mother, all right?"
I nodded and showed her the door.
Immediately after I shut the door behind her, Emily whirled on me.
"Why did you do that?!" she shrieked. "That woman has been more of a family to me than the rest of you put together!"
I looked her straight in the eye. "I need you to listen," I said in a deadly voice. She shut her mouth and glared at me.
"When have I ever turned away from you? When have I ever ignored you? When have I ever refused to talk to you?" I asked in the same tone. She opened her mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut.
"That's right: never. On the other hand, when was the last time you didn't do exactly that to all of us?" I continued.
She still gave me a dirty look, but I could tell she was thinking about what I was telling her.
"Before Mom and Daddy divorced," she finally replied.
"A year ago," I finished.
Emily spun around and ran to her room. I let her go; she needed time to think.
Maybe that day is today, I thought happily. Things were getting better already.
YOU ARE READING
Emergency Stitching
Teen FictionWhen she was twelve, Alice's life took a turn for the worse. Her best friend abandoned her, and her parents divorced, right before her father died. Her mother became an alcoholic, her brother turned suicidal, and her sister couldn't stand any of the...