September 9th 2011
Dear someone,
Back when I was a kid, my parents used to fight a lot. They still do, really, when they think I can’t hear them but I can. But when I was a kid, it scared my sister a lot. She’d come tiptoeing into my bedroom and she’d whisper my name. I’d pull back the covers off my bed and she’d clamber in beside me. Her sticky, chubby hands would grasp onto mine and I’d pull the covers up over our heads. Sometimes, if I could bring myself to talk, I’d tell her some story that I’d make up. None of it ever made sense, but her sniffles would stop and she’d fall asleep. I used to like being comforting to her when she was little. She hasn’t spoken to me in a while now.
Last night, they were arguing again. I don’t know if she heard them or if she was even home, but I still thought of her. They haven’t fought in a while so they must think I’m getting better really, but I don’t know. Maybe there was actually a real cause to all of their harsh words but it could be over something silly. I just hope it wasn’t my fault. It could have been my sisters because ever since I transferred to her school, she’s been acting funny. I’ve seen her point me out to my friends and I tried waving, but they all laughed at me. It doesn’t feel like she’s my sister, you know? It’s more like she should be a sister’s friend who spends a lot of time in my house, but I don’t ever bother to get to know her. But she’s the same kid that she was 7 years ago, except now she’s a stranger to me. I really miss talking to her.
I also got pulled out of class today too. Apparently, my mother and father had arranged that I’d go talk to the school counsellor once every other week. They never told me about that, and I wish they had. She wasn’t the kind of person you felt you could talk to. She was old, late 50s, and sat there with a sour expression on her face. Her skinny hands were clasped in her lap and she kept a blank, neutral expression on her face the whole time she was talking to you, or hoping that you would talk. To be honest, I don’t want to talk to anyone, let alone her. As often as I could, I’d give a blunt one worded reply. Eventually, she sighed and said it was time to go back to class. Once I’d stood up and just about left the door, she said it was good talking to me and that she’d see me again in 2 weeks. She’s not seeing me again if I have anything to do with it.
They asked how my day went again, but my dad was in the garage so he wasn’t there to ask. I said okay and locked myself in my room once more. I still don’t know how it’s going. There’s just no good in the world right now.
From,
Adam.
