The Fortunate Unfortunates

CHAPTER 6

I'm confused as to why the knob on the door of our home is my hand, but I twist it without realization, and slowly (not that I understand my movement but I see the concrete beneath my feet turn into tile) proceed.

"Goodness, Mel.." I catch the "l" of my name being completed on my father's lips and finally realize I was in a long daze. "You look spooked," he says from the barstool and counter where there's a cup of coffee and an open book in front of him.

"Where have you been?" mother turns from her cooking, and furrows her brows at me.

Mother's wanted to know my whereabouts since I left, but I gave no answer before and I definitely shouldn't now. No. Now, things are worse. I started on a lie, and now another is required. It's required, I think again. But then so would another be, and then another and another!

My stomach turns. I don't know what's worse: shattering the valued trust I have with parents, or forever hiding this tiring run of curiosity about the parade.

I gruff as I open my lips for words. I have to tell them.

"Mel?" questions mother, as they stare at me.

I close my eyes and blurt aloud, "I- I went into town, and I saw the parade!"

I open my eyes to them looking at each other, and my breathing feels nonexistent. What are they thinking... I eagerly watch them silently communicate with one another. What are they thinking? Then mother's eye cuts in my direction and skims across mine. I gasp and turn away; and I fumble my jacket off each arm to hang. I feel so anxious.

Right when I finish that, I'm thumped on the shoulder by my mother's reply. "Okay," she says.

My face wrinkles in confusion as I turn to them, pausing, thinking something more will be said.

"Is that your reply as well, dad?"

"I'm just trying to finish this book," he says.

I am shocked. What kind of a response is this? I place my hand on my hip. I know they're holding out.

"Mom," my voice escapes firmer than intended, but I ignore it and speed over to them. "Dad?" I touch his shoulder, so he'll look away from his book and at me. He does, and so does mother, then I look between the two of them.

"You're trying to avoid questions, right?" My hand falls from his shoulder, and though I try to look at their reactions, I only end up shaking my head in my palms and sighing in desperation, "Well, I have way too many! And I don't them to be ignored!" I look at each of them again. "So please don't leave me clueless. I'm... I'm incredibly overwhelmed and I just..."

I slump onto the barstool, and shield my face in the cradle of my arm on top of the counter.

"Mel..." my father sighs and lays his hand on my shoulder, "You shouldn't have gone into town."

I lift my head to him and reposition myself in the seat.

"I know," I gaze at the floor, "It's just... I found this flyer, about the parade and it wasn't my first time seeing one, so this time I couldn't help myself and"

"You're so impulsive Mel," mother's voice drags, low and bland. I first see that her arms are folded; then I look up at her face of disappointment. She even looks tired now, as if the thought of all this has overwhelmed her too.

I look away from her, and wipe the sudden tear from the corner of my eye.

Then she continues, "We shouldn't be having this conversation with you... a child. You could have seen the town once you got older. You could have understood it all on your own without causing this trouble for us. Just talking about this is troubling me."