The Haunted-ON HOLD

Chapter 3

I stumble up to the doorway, knowing exactly what awaits me inside the door.

"Penny!  What happened? Are you alright? Who's that girl?  Did she know Brittany?" As I had expected, my mother had a flood of questions, all fired directly at me.  I tried to just tune her voice out and listen to the almost rhythmic rhythmic beating of her inquires. 

"Listen to me, Penelope Jean Tuluz. Why aren't you answering me?" I'm about to snap, and right now, there's nothing I can do about it.  Temporarily forgetting that there is another person standing feet away that basically saved my life a little while ago, I let the dam break.

"Jesus Mom! Can't you ever stop bugging me, even after I just lost my best, and only, friend! You don't know how much it hurts- and you don't know how to love me obviously!" I scream at her.

She stares at me, stunned.  I must admit, I've never had the best relationship with my mother.  We've always argued, starting with my struggle for independence with hair brushing.  It progressed, from me watching Fetch with Ruff-Ruffman when I was supposed to be doing homework to me shorts being to "small" (mom language for too slutty). But after the incident, it's quickly gone downhill.  This argument is just one piece of evidence for that.

"But-but you-" She stutters, trying to make reason out of what I just said.

"Yes, that's right.  You don't love me, and you know what? I have the same feelings about you, so no need to feel guilty.  There's our perfect little mother-daughter bonding moment, 'kay? You happy now?" I spit out, then turn to Troy. "Oh, by the way- thanks for returning me to this hell."

I turn around and speed into the house before I can see the loks on their faces, since I know it's going to be surprise mingled with disgust that they have deal with someone like me.  Everyone used to give me that look, like I was the outsider, until Brittany came in.  Brittany was the savior.  Brittany was my life preserver in the sea of high school and life in general.

How does everything always have to relate back to Brittany? 

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I scurry down to the basement to hide myself from the world.  That plan obviously isn't going to work, I realize, once I see Toby chilling out on my bed. I open m mouth to ell at him and direct the pile of anger inside of me that's growing larger by the minute at him, but when he sees me, he puts up his hand to stop me.

"Listen," he told me, "I heard you and Mom upstairs. I just wanted to say that we're on your side, and we really want to help you, Sis."

"Doesn't seem like it," I mutter under my breath.

When he hears this, his face softens. He walks over to me and takes my hand.

"But we are. You just can't see it because your pain is clouding your vision," he whispers loudly, obviously trying not to upset me, since he knows that I don't like to be accused of being pained.  After all, I'm not weak.

"It's not pain! I'm  just... angry and tired, that's all."

"I think, Penny, that you are mistaking your pain for anger on purpose. You don't want to admit that you're pained because you think that means you're not strong, right?"

I stare at him, stunned. When did he become a grown-up councilor?

"No, that's not true," I try to say, even though deep inside, something clicked when he said that.  Some emotion got out of the cage, and he unlocked it.

"Just think about it, okay?" He starts to walk out of the room before I call him.

"Um... I know this sounds really weird, but have you been seeing Brittany's car around town? You know, the green one with splatter paint?"