Upside Down

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Joanna's POV 

"Come downstairs, Jo. We're having a family meeting," Papa's dead, emotionless voice speaks from the other side of the door.

Anxiety awakens from it's snooze, crawling back inside me, knowing that whatever the meeting is about, it's going to be horrific.

The bed's springs release a skreichs in relief once the pressure of my weight is off it and while I follow papa down the stairs, into the living room, the air that once was clean is now full of toxins, suffocating my every breath.

Papa strides over to his throne, plopping himself in the old, tan armchair that matches the suede couch covered in numerous stains, not only from us but from the past owners that possessed this sofa before they dumped it to Goodwill, where they would never see it again. And on that couch, mama, Luis, and I, all attempt to fit, tucked together like an overcrowded book case.

Scrutinizing the family he's created, his thick eyebrows relax, and an abnormal grin appears on his face. "Now that we are all down here your Mama and I would like to announce something." My gut tightens remembering the many moments he's used that phrase; each time the news is worse than the last. His hand lands on top of mama's reacting a noticeable flinch from her. "Jo is moving out and living with Liam!"

The room stays silent. Mama and papa look at both Luis and I, waiting for a response, yet the only thing we can reject is paintings of horizontal lines and widened eyes upon our faces, unable to believe the words papa spoke.

Jo's moving out and living with Liam! Papa's words repeat while his eyes lock onto mine.

"P-please say something," mama whispers.

"Have y'all lost your minds!" Luis shouts, being the last thing I hear before everything turns into muffled screams between papa and Luis, however, that soon becomes drawn out to but my overbearing heartbeat thumping in my ears, trying to keep pace with the breaths I can't seem to catch.

I look up with everyone standing besides me. Mama stands in the middle of Luis and papa, get engulfed in the flames they each produce; their mouths move yet no words are audible, the same as last week.

Everything is on mute, myself, my family, the world. The only sound not muted is my obnoxious heartbeat and the sound of me gasping for air, a sound that's so loud to me, but silent to them.

I'm a drone, facing down on everything, watching as the innocent face of my brother's beats of vibrant tomatoes during the spring while papa's veins in his neck and forehead stick out, nearly bursting, and amongst them, mama's fragile face turns into the raccoons whom scavenge through our backyard, the same as its always been from the happy child I once was to the miserable, heart-broken one I am now, showing her solicitude.

Proving she's a superhero; she's the person always putting herself in harm's way to be the peacemaker. Mama continuously steps into situations where she has no business being put into, exactly like Rylie.

Why does she always have to be the hero? Why can't for once she be the person being saved?

Observing them is like watching a drama film; unbelievable. Where did everything go so wrong? Where did the life of normality turn into the life of unfamiliarity? How did we turn into this reckless, sad, vicious family? This family full of suffrage and despair. Or have we always been like this, formed by God to live the ways we do now?

Questions flood through me, a tide full of them. And as they keep on piling on, each of them ton-pound bricks piling onto my chest, I realize I'm not breathing, that no oxygen is flowing through me anymore.

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