Sixteen Moons [on hold]

[6] Let It Out

CHAPTER 6 : LET IT ALL OUT

Another sleepless night passed. Every time my mom or dad entered the room to come check on me, I had pretended to be asleep. My mind was wide-awake but not because of all the hours I slept the previous night. My brain worked nonstop; I needed to find a way to convince my parents to listen to me, I wanted them to hear me out and most of all, I had to find a way for them to believe me.

By the time the sun lightened my room and I heard my parents were up, most likely having breakfast, I still hadn't come up with a solution. Figuring out what I needed to do proved to be impossible. From the second I set foot in the kitchen, Mom bombarded me with questions. Did I feel okay? Was I hungry? Did I hurt? Had I slept well? Why had I not waited for her to get home before I went to bed? Did I have a temperature? Did I feel dizzy? What happened? Was there anything I wanted to talk about? On and on it went. It took all my self-control not to turn around and go hide in my bedroom again. Instead, I nodded. I shook my head. I even tried to reassure her I was all right. She smiled approvingly when I finished my bowl of cereals. She raised an eyebrow when I went for the coffee maker, so I turned around and decided to have orange juice instead. When I opened the faucet to rinse my dishes, Mom got up and told me to take it easy. I didn't really have plans, but I had to get out of the house one way or another. That's why I announced I was going to the movies that afternoon.

"Of course you're not going," Mom said. The subject wasn't open for discussion; I sighed, shrugged and told her I would let April know I wasn't going to join her to the movies after all. What other option did I have? Not that it really mattered; April had tennis lessons on Wednesdays anyway - not that my mom knew about that.

When she began to clear the table, I tried to communicate with my dad behind my mom's back. I mouthed for him to back me up, but instead of doing so, he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture and I knew I was on my own. I would just have to try to avoid my mom as much as possible without making it look too suspicious.

By the time evening had come, I couldn't spend another minute in my room. My never-ending thoughts, questions and most of all, the lack of answers drove me crazy.Despite my mom's many objections, I helped her out in the kitchen as much as she allowed me to - which wasn't a lot. Still, I preferred helping out in the kitchen to being in the living room where Amara watched some sappy reality TV show.

"Are you feeling better?" Mom asked for what felt like the fiftieth time that night.

"Yes, Mom. I'm fine."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" she offered once again. "About anything, whatever it is you have on your mind

"I know. But really, I'm fine."

My decision to help in the kitchen became more and more of a regret. Even Amara's stupid TV program began to feel like less of a struggle to endure compared to my mom's constant questioning looks. I wanted her to forget about what happened, for her to find something else to worry about. I was getting sick of being the center of her attention. I was starting to lose my patience. I put the knife down, and as I did so, worry resurfaced on my mom's face. It was as if she had me under a microscope, examining my every movement, facial expression, even as much as a frustrated sigh would have her worrying. Anger bubbled up inside me, yet, before I could express some of that anger, Amara's voice sounded from the living room.

"Is it so hard to answer your phone when I call? You can't just ignore me like that!"

My mom and I both glanced towards the living room. Amara's sporadic tantrums were not unusual. As much as I disliked Joshua, I pitied him for being my sister's boyfriend. It wasn't something I would wish upon even my worst enemy. My mom closed the oven and put her oven mitt on the counter. Every time Amara's mood scattered into a burst of jealousy, my mom was there to comfort her. I wondered how she could keep up with it - maybe it was an ability only mothers possessed.