Ike Under Glass [and other short stories]

School Block

Lucinda Hertz did not want children. Many adults tried to convince her that eventually, she would. She simply rolled her eyes and reiterated that being responsible for a child wasn't in her life plan and never would be. That children were a choice, and her choice was no.

It wasn't that she had anything against children, it was that she didn't think she had her life together enough to take care of another and perhaps never would. The world, however, seemed to have other plans. Namely, to give her no choice but to care for a younger person, though not a child of her own birthing or adoption.

Lucinda was perfectly aware that one of the weights holding her back, one that seemed to not shift no matter how many sessions of therapy she had, was the fact she had always lived in her sisters shadow. Growing up that way had messed her up somewhere inside. Lucinda craved approval, but couldn't seem to ask for reassurance to get it. She wanted to succeed, but felt that she was never good enough at anything or if she were, there was always someone better, so why try?

All this and more, a cycle of shame and self-imposed failure, all because of her parents glorification of her sainted genius sister.

Not her older sister, either. Her younger sister. By four years. 

Somehow, that was worse. Lucinda was 20 years old and still flitting from job to job, neither especially creative or good with people. She was...average. Dealing with her trauma and depression was a cakewalk compared with actually holding down a job. No amount of reminding herself she was still very young seemed to stop her from feeling bad about it, either. Nor did it stop people in her life asking her when she was getting her life together every time she was fired or had to quit.

Mirabelle Hertz, on the other hand, was a certified 'child genius'. Their parents had withdrawn most of their attention from Lucinda and placed all their hopes into Mirabelle. Pretty much from the moment they realised Mirabelle could (at three years of age) write short sentences, read at the level of an eight year old and do simple but impressive mathematics.

Lucinda had felt almost embarrassed to bring it up to her therapist. She wasn't and didn't want to blame Mirabelle for her problems. It was her parents that had caused her such trouble. Eventually it had been coaxed out of her and she had been so relieved to be told that actually yes; if a child was routinely ignored, made to feel invisible, else yelled at for doing things incorrectly, whilst a sibling was praised excessively and compared to them all the time, you were likely to come out with a shit ton of trauma. Well, Dr. Walker hadn't said 'shit ton' but the implication was there. Every since that day, Lucinda had been kicking herself into gear and it was working quite well. Not perfect. But well. Better. Yet, it still held her back from time to time and there was no way she'd bring a child close to one of her spirals on purpose.

She'd been feeling particularly good about her life when her parents had called up to brag that Mirabelle had been invited to a 'luxury private school' by the Eastbank coast. The university was called Saint's University for the Exceptional. Which Saint? Lucinda had either forgotten or never learnt that fact.

Lucinda didn't know an awful lot about the school, aside from it's location and about it's exclusivity. Her parents had been strangely cagey about it. Why they were weird about it was also something she'd never learnt. They only seemed interested in the bragging, after Lucinda had spent a good few years blocking them out and living alone. It had taken all her strength to not completely cut them out and that was only because she actually did care what Mirabelle was up to and how she was being treated.

She'd taken it upon herself then, to search the internet for information on the school. She didn't need her parents help to do that and had snidely informed them of such before hanging up after their boastful remark that if she wanted to come say goodbye to Mirabelle, she better do it quick. 

She wasn't surprised by their behaviour, just frustrated at how childish it was. 'Oh by the way we're sending your darling genius sister to this extra super special school, but we won't tell you anything about it'. Bastards.