"Marie?"
My mother slowly opened the door, peeking inside to check on me. I closed my magazine, sat up, and awaited for her to come in to probably yell at me (my feelings didn't seem to phase her anymore).
She reached towards the lamp, flicking it on and I groan. Sitting in the dark all day definitely changes when your mum comes home from work.
"Have you been sitting like this all day?" she asks, leaning up against the doorframe and fiddling with the broken string lights hanging from the wall. I shrug. Maybe she wouldn't care as much as she usually did. It'll ruin your eyes! Don't you know you're not supposed to do that?
"We're having guests over tonight, Marie," she goes on, straightening herself. "Please shower, and dress nice."
"Let me guess," I sigh. "Is it the Harrison's again?"
My mother had been seeing Mr. Harrison in private (if you know what I mean by that). Louise, Mrs. Harrison, has no idea, and that's the dirtiest part. Part of me thinks she wouldn't mind, but I knew the heartbreak would proudly show if she did. She's been inviting them and their kids over for about three months now. She's been saying she has to "go out for groceries" but in reality, I know exactly what she's doing.
I get along with their daughter, Louise. Some would say were best friends, but I don't really see it that way. I mean sure, I love having her as a friend, but it's, how do I put this, 'not right' to call her my best friend I suppose. You see, ever since my father left, my mother has been sinking deeper in deeper in a heartbreak hole, so she decided to find friends. Or y'know, good friends, like Mr. Harrison. When she met Mrs. Harrison at the shops and they exchanged family information, she thought me and their daughter Louise and their son George would get on just fine, since were all in the same age range. And we do, but there's a slight problem.
"Yes, it is the Harrison's again, dress nice." She clenched her teeth, arms stiff at her sides. This is ridiculous.
"Alright."
After I had showered and dressed up, I trudged down the stairs. This skirt is way too big on me. So is this turtleneck, with the bloody matching socks.
My older sister Carrie met me at the bottom, a flowey white dress pooling around just below her knee. She was way prettier than me, long, thin legs with beautiful brown eyes and wavy hair. I would say I was the complete opposite. She got the looks from mum, I got the looks from dad. I look exactly like my father, which makes it harder for mum to even look at me.
"You know about mum and Harold, right?" Carrie whispered in my ear when we heard the knock at the door. "About their affair?"
"You'd have to be deaf and blind not to," I answered, watching as mum hurried to open it.
"Louise! How nice to see you again." She put on her best smile, and we watched as each of the Harrison's piled into our house. We sighed in defeat. Our mother was a fake.
"Harold," she greeted, leaning in to hug the man, something she hadn't done with Louise which immediately made her pay close attention to the pair. There was ABSOLUTELY no way she couldn't notice now.
In came their kids, one by one, Peter, George and Louise, Harold Jr. obviously off somewhere else. Each kid had a shiny head of brown hair and striking brown eyes. Louise smiled at me and came to hug me, then my sister. Us three had also grown quite close as a trio, but neither of them knew about-
"Hi, Marie."
part 2 coming soon to a theatre near you!
