Being a Banner [ 1 of JA ]

29

Last night could've gone better, but it wasn't awful — and thank God it didn't. Dalia looked pretty shaken up, so I haven't bothered her at all since last night when we brought Dad home. He was absolutely knocked out, even when you called his name or pushed him he didn't wake up. After Dalia left, I checked on Dad every so often, making sure he was fine. It took me forever to fall asleep because I was worrying so much. I worried about Dad's health, Dalia ditching us after last night, and me knowing I was slowly going insane.
      It was nearing four in the afternoon, and I was sitting on the couch as Dad walked out from his room, looking as tired as ever. His hair was still long as ever, but looked at bit tangled near the back. His brown eyes looked droopy and tired as ever. The grey t-shirt he changed into was half tucked in his sweat pants and crumpled at the hem. After a few seconds of him looking over at me and scratching his head, Dad groggily and very slowly asked, "What happened last night?"

"Well, after you turned into the Other Guy — which was pretty cool considering all you did was just close your eyes — so you transformed. . . The Other Guy was pretty cranky and confused. He took a few swings, roared pretty loud, then I punctured him with the needle." I explain. He also tussled me around like a rag doll, possibly breaking my pelvis, but I'm fine. "So you transformed, and then this was weird, I jumped on you, which explains why I was on your waist. And then. . . Well, you listened to me," Dad raised an eyebrow at me in confusion.
"What?" He asked.

I shifted my position on the couch so I looked directly at him.
"I told you to look at me, and you did." I say. Dad nodded, a bit surprised and looking like he was trying to remember, but then his brown eyes went wide and focused on me even more.
"What happened to your arm. . . Tell me the truth!" Dad nervously exclaimed as he sat down on the couch next to me, grabbing my right arm. He turned it so he could see the bruise on the back of my upper arm. It was the size of a tennis ball if you flattened it, and grotesquely purple with yellow outer ridges.
I didn't even know that was there. Dad's tired eyes were fearful and scared, "Did I do this?"
"No!" I retorted, "Maybe. . . I didn't even know it was there! Honest! I didn't feel anything when I woke up! I promise!"
"Oh God. . . Is Dalia okay?"
"Yes, she's alright." I tell him, no relief leaving his worried face. His brows are narrowed down in sadness and disappointment as his thumb very lightly ran over the bruise.

"Do you believe me?" I ask him.
"What?"
"That I didn't know about the bruise? Because I swear to God, I didn't. I'm being honest." I say firmly to him. Dad paused, and before he said anything, there was a knock at the door. He jumped, whereas I stood up to go answer it.
"No!" Dad whispered, taking my hand, "Don't — "
"I bet you it's Dalia." I reassure him. As I walked up to the door, I looked back to see Dad watching me with caution, as if someone was about to break down the door. I opened to door to see Jax with his hand raised, ready to knock again.
"Hey," We both said. He chuckled as I wear a fake smile and giggle as I leaned on he doorway, closing the door until it was up against my thigh, hardly opened at all.

"What is up with you?" Jax asks, smiling.
I freeze, "What do you mean?"
"You're not at school again."
"Oh, yeah, yeah. . . Dad is pretty sick so, I'm helping him out." I lie.
"Oh, well I hope he feels better." Jax smiles.
I smile back, "Thanks."
      There was an awkward silence, and I didn't know what to say. I wanted to close the door all the way, take Jax up to the roof, and explain all the weird and crazy antics that have been going on. Though this was Jax, my best friend, my other half, who knew me so well. He didn't come down here just to ask where I was, he wanted to talk about what the hell was going on in my life. And I desperately wanted to tel him. The only problem was that was betraying Dad and the secret he so desperately wants to keep.

      "Anyways, see you in school next week?" Jax asked, breaking up the silence.
I nodded. "Yeah," Jax smiled and nodded. We said our goodbyes, and as Jax walked away I was closing the door, but then he came back.
"By the way! Uh, if you don't give back the hoodie, that's fine — I mean, I don't care if you keep it or anything...." Jax crookedly smiled.
I smiled with a giggle, "Okay."
      Jax nodded and finally walked away once and for all. I closed the door and turned around to see Dad standing up from the couch, just a few feet behind me.
      "He doesn't know. . . Does he?" He asked.
I shook my head. "No. None of them." I enter the kitchen with a frown on my face and grab a water bottle.
      "I know it's not fun to not tell the boys about this, and I'm not saying they wouldn't, but if they said something — "
      "That's the thing, they wouldn't — "
      "And I know it's hard for you because you're best friends with them, but — "
      "Dad, that's the problem!" I say with a hysterical laugh, "Because they're my best friends, they see that something's wrong. I bet you that's why Jax was just here. He didn't care about my lie that you were sick, or wondering when I'd be back at school. Jax came down here to talk about what I was worrying about, that makes me stay home from school. Lord only knows he's going to keep asking without the idea that he's peer pressuring me, because he wants to fix it, because. . ." Because you're never here. Because they know how lonely I am while you're gone busying yourself with something that's more important. But I'm not going to say it because you'll feel guilty, and as much as I've seen I won't let you be guilty. I bite the insides of my cheeks out of anger.
      "Because they know me too well." I say instead.

      All of a sudden, another knock at the door emanates, whereas Dad marches up to it, anger on his face.
      "Dad! — "
      "I'm just going to tell him — "
      "It's Dalia!" We hear from the other side. Dad's expression softens quick as he opens the door. A startled Dalia stands there, looking at Dad up and down, a bit fearful.
      "Dally. . ." Dad whispered very softly. Her lips form into a smile seconds after.
      "Hey. Are you okay?" She asks. Dad nods, a small smile on his face from her kindness. I smiled small as well watching them. "Oh!" Dalia lifts her hands that hold McDonalds bags, "I got food."

      This brought a real smile to my face as I gladly held my hands out to hold me of those bags. The following minutes were silent except for the sounds of us eating and drinking. Though, I heard silent whispers and giggles coming from the couch where Dad and Dalia sat. If this was everyday: having Dad around, having Dalia's delightful spirit in the room, and just this atmosphere of good intentions. Though there were the bad things too.
      I wanted a life where Dad was home all day, waiting for me instead of vice versa. Dalia and Dad could fall in love with no worries about the Other Guy. I wanted a life without the Other Guy, and I think everyone would be in favor of that. But this was real life, and people say life isn't perfect. I didn't expect my life to have a dent so big as this. Maybe that's why Dad tried to keep the monster hidden from my knowledge.

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Oh my god In the first AN of this chap I apologized cuz it was short and now it's like 8 pages Jeez 😂😂