Blue Balloons

Age 15: The Dinner Party

It's been 5 years since Mother and Father had gotten their divorce finalized. Father took Sister Jane away with him to a seperate lot, and I stayed with Mother. But tonight we would see eachother again. I missed her, though we usually visited eachother once a month. We met at the bench in the park, where Sister Jane explained to me what divorce even was. Tonight was a dinner party between the richest business men and women, and their children of course. I doubt Mother and Father will be speaking to eachother at any point during the event. They were at the farthest ends of the room, surrounded by their own pupil, laughing an obnoxious laugh. Dollhouse mode, on.

The entire place was decorated in blue streamers, and the walls were painted a clean white. The floors were planked with polished wood, dark blue and light blue confetti scattered around from the festive start of the party. From the ceilings hung crystal chandeliers, three to be exact. They lit up the room brightly, to the point where I couldn't look up without being almost blinded. But I had mastered the technique of not looking up to the heavens and questioning why I had to be here. I focused on the balloons that were placed in every corner of the room. The colors varied from white to dark blue. I liked them.

Sister Jane and I sat at our own table, sipping tea and biting into tiny cakes. Dressed in a sky blue dress and hair tied back into a bun, Sister Jane sat across from me, fidgeting with the pearls around her neck. She is 22 now. An adult. But she isn't as fake as everyone else. Only when we have events like this does she act like a doll. Sister Jane was never stuck on dollhouse mode like she predicted before when we were young. Taking a quick look around the room, Sister Jane's eyes settled on me. She took hold of my hands, playing with the blue beads that were wrapped around my wrist. We had grown awfully close now that we're apart more often. I feel like we were sisters even more now than then.

"Chrissy, how are you?" she asked me, not looking at my eyes. She had just gotten here, so of course that would be her first words to me. I smiled at her, pushing my light brown hair behind on of my ears. "I'm doing great, actually. How are you and Charles?" Charles was her new boyfriend, a tall man with golden blonde hair. He was standing near Father, holding a glass of wine. Sister Jane glanced at him, smiling slightly. "We're doing great. We got a new dog, you know." My eyes widened at the news. I love dogs, you know. Their big eyes and soft fur always comforted me, but Mother never let me get one. Sister Jane and I carried on a conversation about her new canine. A Doberman, obviously Sister Jane's choice of breed. No matter how mature she gets, the improper lady in her always seems to show. It comforted me, knowing that she didn't change by that much.

Clicking her tongue, Sister Jane took in a deep breath, her chest rising greatly up and then back down. "Chrissy, why don't we go outside. The air is getting heavy in here," she suggested. I nodded at her, standing up and playing with the bows attached at the waistline of my beige dress. As we walked outside towards the porch, Sister Jane let her shoulders slouch, her lady like manner quickly disappearing. She turned to me and leaned on a nearby wall. "So, how is it with Mother?" she asked. She knew. She always did. I could never keep anything from her, and that annoyed me greatly. Slowly, I let my shoulders slouch as well, gazing down at the ground in front of me. My hair flowed over my shoulders, making Sister Jane not able to see most of my face. "She has a lot of medication to take right now," I responded grimly, still playing with the bows of my dress. "So, I wouldn't say she's doing well. Better than before, at least." Sister Jane nodded and looped her arm around my shoulders, holding me tightly. She spoke up after a moment or two, her voice low and smooth. "Everything's going to be okay, you know that. Be patient."

I nod at her words, but refuse to believe them. What was I going to do if Mother passed? Too afraid to ask, I kept my head down.

The moon was full tonight, tiny crystals that were stars surrounded it. Sister Jane looked up at them in awe, her mouth slightly open and the corners of her lips turned up a bit. I remember she had always loved the night, sneaking off in the middle of it to just sit on the porch and stare upwards. Sometimes, she would let me come out with her, and we would sit there for hours on end, not even talking. I liked those times.

Sister looked at me with pitiful eyes. It pained me to see them. I felt weak and helpless. Making a small humming noise, Sister Jane's lips turned up at the ends. She held up a finger and told me to wait out here while she went back inside. I nodded at her, a small smile plastered on my face. At least Jane is here for me. Father had been slowly falling apart ever since the divorce. Somethings are just not meant to be, I presume. Sister Jane came back out of the house after a moment, holding the string of one of the light blue balloons that were in the corner of the party room.

We meet again, Mr. Blue.

I had told Sister Jane about Mr. Blue once or twice after Mother and Father had gotten divorced and we snuck off to meet at the park. I had cried to her about how I thought it was my fault. She clicked her tongue at me only, doubting it. But I still feel as if it is partially my fault that Mother and Father are no longer together. After all, I had been the one to make that stupid, selfish wish of mine. Knocking me out of my thoughts, Sister Jane held out the string of the balloon and urged me to take it, a small, sad smile on her face. I took hold of the string, playing with the end of it between my fingers. Looking up at her, I awaited for Sister Jane to speak, to tell me what I was supposed to do with this round piece of rubber in my hand. She had her eyes closed, her breathing steady and slow. Head tolted upwards towards the sky, Sister Jane scrunched up her nose in the middle of the moment, as if scoffing at her own thoughts.

My eyes widened in realization. She was wishing. For what, I am not sure, but she is definitely making a wish. On Mr. Blue. Quiet and quickly. When Jane opened her eyes again, she let go of the part of string she was holding, leaving me to hold the balloon in place. "Make a wish, Chrissy. It worked last time," she said, a genuine voice emanating from her. I nodded and sqeezed my eyes shut, a small fire lighting in my mind. I wished hard, saying the same words over and over again.

I wish for Mother to get better. I wish for her suffering to stop. I wish for Father to get better. I wish for him to get back on track. I wish for myself to get better. I wish my feelings heal fast. I wish my family was together again.

I wasn't sure what else to wish for, besides a successful future between Sister Jane and her boyfriend, which I prompty added at the end of my wish list. I wonder if Mr. Blue thought this was too much to wish for. I looked to Sister Jane, who had her head tilted towards the moon and stars. I looked up as well, still playing with the string of the balloon in my hand. Eventually, I let go of the balloon, it's light blue color turning a dark color as it rose into the air. It made me feel slightly better to make those wishes, hope igniting in me. The feeling was short lived, but enough for me to make it through the night.

Dollhouse mode, off.

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Mother ended up in the hospital a few days after the party. Mr. Blue didn't do a very good job at making my wish come true. Sister Jane told me to keep faith, but it became harder to do so.

Father, Sister Jane, and I were gathered around Mother's bedside, watching her breath heavily. We looked down at her, waiting for her to wake up. I fear the day that she won't. Slowly, Mother's eyes flickered open, and she plastered on a weak smile. "Mother, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Sister Jane asked gently. She reached down and held Mother's frail hand, taking great care not to hold it too tightly. Mother looked up at her and responded in a shaky voice. "Oh, I'm fine, sweetheart. Don't worry yourself. I'll be out of here in soon. Just like the last few times. I don't even feel any pain anymore." This wasn't dollhouse mode, or a normal Mother mode. It just seemed that she was weak and worried and lying. It's the first time I've seen her behave like.

I wish for her suffering to stop.

Mother had been coming in and out of the hospital lately, always still feeling dizzy once she got home. The length of time she spent at the hospital grew as time went on. It was hell, really. Constantly worrying about Mother, and having to answer calls for her and receive gifts that piled up in the room.

I looked at Mother and smiled, nodding at her claim. "I'm sure you will, Mother." She was strong enough. She would make it. I know it.

Looking around the room, I saw Father standing at the end of Mother's bed, a grim look on his face. A look of regret, as if he had just figured out all that he did wrong in the past.

I wish for him to get back on track.

I looked to Sister Jane and Mother. They were holding hands like old times.

I wish my family was together again.

Mr. Blue has a funny way of working out my wishes.