The Girl- Olivia Rodrigo

3

TW!! Mentions of SA & Murder!!

FLASHBACK; 1961...

I was born in 1943 to my mother and the gravestone that was my father. It was war time; my father was killed by a Nazi while he was stationed in Germany. My mom was eight months pregnant at the time, and after she heard the news, she went almost completely catatonic, only coming out of her state to give birth to me.

She was so out of it she couldn't even name me. Couldn't even hold me, or look at me without a blank stare. Luckily, my fathers' brother, my Uncle Stanley, was there to help my vegetable of a mother.

He named me Olivia, after a character in one of Shakespeare's plays- or books, whatever the fuck... anyway, he moved us into his house. He hired a full time nurse for my mom, a nanny for me, and went back to work. He was in the commercial railroad business, and away for about 8 months out of the year. 

My first memory of my mother was watching her through a crack in the doorway when I was 4. I don't know exactly why I was spying on her.. maybe I hoped that I'd see her snap out of her catatonia in private, but no. There she sat, almost completely still in her unmoving rocking chair, staring out of the big stained glass window, as though she was still waiting for my father to come home and tell her that the war was just one big bad dream.

Her nurse was spooning apple sauce into her lips, which always seemed slightly parted, as though she were gasping for air. I didn't see much after that, because my nanny found me, saw what I was doing, and tried to explain to me why spying on people was bad.

"It's not polite to eavesdrop or stare, Olivia."

I remember arching an eyebrow defiantly at her as she escorted me back to my nursery, "All mother does is stare and listen. She's more impolite than me." 

My life was uneventful and dull for the next few years; my uncle demanded that I be homeschooled, and saw to it that I rarely left the house- even when I did, I was always escorted by a nanny or a maid. I wasn't permitted to ride bikes, wear trousers or overalls, talk back, have a pet- my existence was even duller than my mothers. It's as though when my father died, my uncle expected me to follow my mothers' lead and disappear completely too while still having a beating heart.