The Dancers ©

ᴥPlaytimeᴥ

When I was little, I don’t ever remember having any sort of playtime except at school when there was recess. I didn’t have the happiest childhood, but I would give anything for my sisters to have the tiniest sliver of one. And that so happens to include playtime.

            After some protest from the oldest sisters—Emerald, Amber, and Turquoise—a decision was reached. While we waited for the limo driver to return, we’d spend the remaining four hours at the park five blocks away from Miri’s ballet studio. Seeing my sisters faces light up at the mention of going to a park with a playground was worth it.

            I sit contentedly at a table not that far from the playground and have my homework resting in my lap. Jasper is horsing around with the little ones while Emerald, Ruby, and I are sitting together at the table. However, none of this surprises me. Except that my seven year old sister Peridot isn’t playing with her siblings. “Perry, don’t you want to play?” I ask her.

            She looks at me with bright green eyes as she says, “No. I don’t feel like it. I don’t like to play around when you’re worried.” Emerald looks up from her math assignment and Ruby from her book when Peridot says that.

            “Perry, I’m not worried. I just—am a little confused right now.” It takes all of my willpower not to touch my cheek again.

            Peridot looks down at her lap as she says, “Then will you play with me?”

            Emerald and Ruby looks surprised, as they rightfully should. I have never played except when it was required of me in elementary school. Enjoyment of any kind isn’t the highest priority on my life list. Still, those green eyes look so worried. Maybe when it comes to my sisters, I’m a total pushover.

            “Okay. I’ll play with you Per—” No sooner than I start to say her nickname does she pull me closer to the swing set. When I look back at where my homework is, I see it on the ground. Emerald picks up my papers and puts them in my history textbook.

            “Push me!” says Peridot as she places her butt on one of the swings. “And don’t push me lightly. I want to be able to swing all the way up to the sky.”

            I laugh as I reply, “No one can be swung up to the sky, Perry.” I look at her face and see it set into a grumpy frown. “But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

            “YAY!” she screams as I start to push her.  

            Focusing on the swing, I fade into dark thoughts. How I know that no matter how happy Peridot is right now, she won’t be when we return home. None of us will.

            I guess some people would wonder why we don’t leave if Dad is treating us so bad. Why we haven’t ever made an escape. In truth, his abuse is the only kind of familiar touch that I have ever really known. Sure, it hurts me to the point of bruising, but I don’t feel it. I just recognize the gesture. I just recognize hell.

            “Diamond?” asks someone. I turn around and lose focus of Peridot’s swing. Immediately I’m pushed by the swing to the ground. “Diamond, are you all right?”

            When I get up and gently stop Peridot’s swing, I see Castor there with a smile. His smile is one that I don’t feel like I deserve. “Castor? What are you doing here?” I ask him.

            Castor points towards the playground set as he pronounces, “Those boys over there are my little brothers.” I turn towards the playground and see six little boys each playing with my six little sisters. My little sisters don’t mind their company, and at least the little boys aren’t rough housing with them.