Torn

Chapter 11 - What's To Be Said In Silence?

Chapter 11
What’s To Be Said In Silence?

Maybe I had done something wrong.

Karma must be coming back to obtain its revenge. I could have pissed someone off that I shouldn’t have. Or maybe, just maybe God was punishing me for something I still didn’t know that I did. But the one thing I did know was that I most certainly wasn’t winning. This week wasn’t one of my best, “Jack” was missing, my mother was still passed out in a drunken slumber on my living room couch, and Flynn had finally chosen what was most important to him once and for all.

I felt so frozen, so void of any emotion as I walked through the front door that morning. I was still dressed in Flynn’s t-shirt and sweatpants, my hair matching that of a bird’s nest. Peeking in through the living room entryway, I noticed my mother was face first on the couch, her hair gently blowing up from the little snores erupting from her. “Jack’s” car keys weren’t on the foyer table where he usually had left them, and his car was still missing in the driveway.

It was a little eerie, walking into the house without anything to worry about for once in my life. I could easily make my way up to my room and climb back into bed to ignore the world around me. But first, I needed to get the smell of Flynn off of me before it all really started to fall to pieces. I didn’t want to remember a thing about that kiss, those moments I spoke to him, or that time in my bedroom closet when my mother interrupted us. None of it meant a thing to Flynn because he had Olivia, beautiful and vibrant Olivia whose life was perfect. Olivia didn’t have to worry about her father when she came home from school. She most certainly didn’t have to worry about what she wore outside to cover up the bruises from the night before.

Olivia was perfect and I was not.

When I finally got to my room, I shed Flynn’s clothes and threw them in a ball, letting them lie in the corner. I pulled on a pair of my own pajamas and crawled right back into the confinements of my own bed, the only safe place left I had from the world around me. Now there was no more school to keep me sane, no Flynn to distract my thoughts, and no hopes that my mom would come back and pick up the pieces of my shattered life. All I had was my bed.

While I lay there, I couldn’t help but wonder how different my life would be if the situations weren’t the way I was so used to. If “Jack” hadn’t taken up drinking, would he be hurling his problems on me every night? If I didn’t have bruises lining my skin and scars on my body, would I be good enough for a guy like Flynn? What was really bothering my mother that she felt the need to drink away her sorrows? And last, but most certainly not least, how different would my life be if my mother never walked out that door ten some years ago?

*~*~*~*~*

It was Monday morning and I managed to sleep through the rest of my non-eventful weekend. My mother and I hadn’t spoken a word to one another since she last passed out on me on Friday, and she didn’t make a move to apologize either. “Jack” still hasn’t been accounted for either, and because he didn’t grab his cell phone before he left the house that night, no one knew how to get a hold of him.

I compared the feeling of walking into school that morning with a root canal being forced upon me, especially when my eyes landed on none other than Flynn and Olivia cuddled up at his locker. Walking as fast as I could, I sped by the two without a second glance and managed to make my way to English without anyone saying a word to me. I settled into my seat and forced myself to focus on nothing else than the teacher and the lesson. I wasn’t quite sure if Flynn was going to talk to me or not, but if he tried, I wasn’t about to make it out like nothing happened between the two of us this weekend.

You can’t just steal someone’s first kiss and expect to pretend like it never happened.

He strolled in not too long after I had, his face looking nothing less than angelic. It was the face that I envied from my mother, how it was so solid and smiling. His eyes were glowing and his white row of teeth was on display for everyone he greeted as he made his way to his seat. If nothing else, it angered me more than I wanted it to. I wanted him to look distraught, maybe a little torn like I once had. He deserved to feel guilty and shamed for what he put me through. And here he was, walking around like he was better then everyone and had nothing to worry about.