Turned, Twisted, and Tossed Around

<><><><>[Chapter 6]<><><><>

Michael dropped me off at my house, and left before we could say good bye. Perhaps good bye was too serious, maybe nothing was going to happen at all. Or maybe saying good bye would be too painful, because it would make it feel like we'll never see each other again. Who knows? Maybe we won't. I hate the fact of my life being so full of 'maybes' and 'perhaps'. Is anything going to be solid? Is there anything or anyone who I can count on that won't change? Yes, I suppose there is. There's always Liam, but being with him is strange. When I want to have a conversation with Liam he's amusing flocks of teenagers, but when he actually wants to talk, all I can think of is escape.

My life is more complicated than it has to be. So anyways, I stomped back upstairs to take a quick shower, and change into my pj's. I made myself pasta, and sat down in the living room. I turned the tv on, and watched a rerun of Wipeout which I must admit, did lighten my sour mood. After throwing the plate in the washer, and not bothering to turn the tv off, I went back upstairs. I slammed my door open, and jumped onto my bed. With my head buried in the pillow, I thought about previous events, and before I knew it, my face was wet. Not because of my shower, but because of the river of tears that made my cheeks glimmer. I tasted the salt of the liquid on my tongue. I hiccuped which made my body shake, and gave me a headache. This day was the greatest downfall ever. It started out the most incredible day imaginable, and ended up...like this.

My pillow was soaking wet by the time I heard the slam of a door, and high heels. My mom had come back from work. Or wait...my adopted mom. I wasn't sure if I became comforted by the idea of her presence right now, or slightly annoyed. She has a way of being direct, and always wants me to tell her my emotions. I'm (typically) a private person, and don't like the idea of saying my most inner thoughts and feelings. That's when I learned to hide things from her, so I don't have to explain. She usually jumps to the worst possible conclusion. For instance, one time I was extremely tired so when I changed into my pajamas I just threw my bra and underwear on the floor. The next day Michael came into my room, and while he sat on my desk I put braids into his hair. When my (adopted) mom checked on us and noticed the bra, underwear, and Michael's hair...well...you can guess what she thought.

Anyways, the foot steps grew louder as my 'mom' climbed up the stairs. My breath caught in my throat, and I threw my pillow under my bed. Surely a wet pillow would cause suspicion. She opened the door, and a gust of wind flooded into my stuffy room. "Hey, Honey. How have you been doing? Sorry, I haven't been around lately. Work has kept me tangled up..." She walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. Great, I'm in for a long conversation. "Um..is there anything you'd like to tell me?" I asked her, noticing her awkwardness.

 I stared at her, wondering why she wasn't being quick about it like she usually was. Maybe she was pregnant! But..her stomach looks the same so.. "There is something I'd like to tell you." She said. I stared at her, wondering why she wasn't being direct. "Your father and I...we'll we're not a good terms right now. We had a...heated conversation over important matter, and your father has decided to spend a few nights out of town. Just to clear his head." My eyes lingered at her mouth, as I mentally added 'adopted father'. This is very...I don't even know what to say. I'm surprised to say the least.

Trust my mom to lighten my mood. I knew that I had to say something by the way she was looking at me. "But--I mean you guys seemed like the perfect match. You barely had any arguments! What conversation could possibly ruin your marriage?" Mom stared at her fingers, one of the things she does when she's in a uncomfortable position. "We're not going to get divorced, honey. Don't you even think it. I'm going to fix things up. Before you know it, things will be back to normal."

Her words sliced my mind in a way that a sword would, quick, sharp, painful, and totally unexpected. Normal? How could things ever, possibly be normal again? I'm not even normal to begin with! I suppose there's a new definition to the word that I don't know about. I started to wonder what normal was, and if I really wanted to go back to that.