That I Would Be Good

Chapter Eleven

“Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.” ― Mark Twain

     The sound of light footsteps made me pull the covers over my head; I wasn’t in the mood to talk with anyone.  I hadn’t left my room in days and was refusing to eat anything.  There was a bathroom in my room, so there was water and a place to relieve myself.  If I was going to be held captive in my own house, then I was going to make sure I didn’t leave the one place I felt was still mine.

    My mom kept bringing food to my room, even though my dad was against it.  Being the way my mom was, she couldn’t hold a grudge and was already feeling guilty about the decision.  It was barely a three days into my solitude and I was ready to throw myself out the barred window. 

     A knock on my doorframe made me close my eyes quickly, and slow my breathing.  If they wanted to talk, they’d have to do it another time.  If it was my mom again trying to get me to eat, she was sadly mistaken, I was not going to eat in front of her until I felt like my point was made clear.  I was pissed off.

     When I said I hadn’t eaten in almost three days, that’s a lie.  I hadn’t eaten anything in front of my family for three days.  I had a steady supply of those orange cheddar and peanut butter cracker sandwiches in my nightstand drawer, and some granola bars.  I kept them there just in case one day I came home high and hungry and didn’t want my parents to know about it.

     “Elodey, honey,” my mom’s soft voice filled my room. “Want to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?  I just opened a new jar of strawberry jelly.  It’s your favorite.”

     I didn’t move at all.  Just let her think I was sleeping.  She’d eventually leave, like she did every time.  In a few days she would cave in apologize for what she’d done to me and soon enough things would go back to the way they were.  Her not knowing any of the things I was doing, and being happy about it.

    Sighing, she left the room.  Once I heard her safely making her way down the stairs did I shift from my position.  I felt like crap lying around all day, but it would all pay off in the end.  Only a few more days of this and I’d be a free bird.  They can’t keep this bird caged for long.

     Christmas was in a few days, and we still hadn’t gotten a tree.  Usually we had one by the end of the first week of December, but with everything happening with Fritz, my parents just hadn’t the time to go get one.

     This Christmas was going to be different than any other Christmas we’d ever had.  The past Christmas’s it was one of those days where we all got along as a family.  The feeling of receiving the perfect present and the feeling of happiness when someone would say “This is just what I wanted!” was something to bring any family together.

     I don’t think that would be happening this Christmas though.  I probably wouldn’t even bother leaving my room.  There was nothing I wanted from my parents or Fritz.  The only thing I wanted was to have everything the way it was a week ago.  But of course that would never happen, no matter how much I wished.  No matter how much I isolated myself from my family.  Because the damage was already done and they would never trust I was happy doing what I was doing.  There would always have a doubt about me.

***

    Christmas morning was hectic to say the least.  First my parents stood in my doorway for almost twenty minutes trying to coax me out of bed.  When that didn’t work, my dad came in, and whipped the covers off from over my head, and left me there with no way to protect myself from their angry glares. 

    “Get up right now, Elodey!” he boomed.  “It’s Christmas, and we’re going to spend it like a family.  You’ve wallowed in self-pity long enough.  So you either get up, or I’ll flip the mattress over.”