The Second Author

Chapter Eight (revised)

Dad's upstairs with her, probably trying to talk her out of it while she's packing her bags. He doesn't want her to go, and I understand. She's his wife. But I'm his daughter. And she has made him choose a side.

Back when Taylor was alive, he always chose me. But now, I can see the indecision on his face. He doesn't want all of his family to leave him. I don't blame him for that, either.

If we were ever a functional family, I'd want us to stay together, too. But we're not. And we never were.

I sit on the couch in the living room, dosing off, most likely on the brink of more memories. I hear people coming down the stairs and I jump to my feet, trying to look alive.

Mom came down first, bags in hand. She went straight for the door, not even glancing at me. Dad came down right behind her, practically stepping on her heels.

"Susan-" He just barely got the word out of his mouth as she slammed the door in his face. He put a hand on his hip as the other ran threw his hair. He slowly turned my way, looking at the floor.

I've never seen him so angry and hurt at the same time. When Taylor died, his face was all guilt and sorrow when he found me on the bathroom floor. This was different.

I quickly looked from him to the clock. It's midnight, already? Wow. That means they were arguing for almost three hours. I'm not real sure what to say, if I should say anything at all. Knowing Mom, she's not coming back. Ever.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me I missed dinner, but that's the last thing on my mind. Dad finally looks up at me and I can tell he doesn't know what to say, either.

"How much did you hear?" he looked at me, slightly horrified.

"About as much as China did."

His eyes fell to the floor again. "She's going to her sister's. I have a meeting in the morning. I should be gone before you wake up."

"Dad-" I take a few steps closer to him.

"Don't worry, Beth, none of this was your fault. If anything, it opened my eyes to what I was refusing to see." He paused. "She'll never change."

"I gave up on her changing a long time ago. But I know how much you love her, and so, her leaving was the last thing I wanted to happen. If Taylor were still alive, she never would have left."

"And that, right there, is where she's wrong. She started destroying this family the second she started picking favorites. I'm just mad I let it go on this long."

I know exactly what he means. When Taylor and I were younger, everything was fine. Life was great. Then, I started thinking for myself. And everything went downhill from there.

"Love is a funny thing," he said, almost to himself. "I'm going to bed." He walked to the stairs, saying goodnight over his shoulder.

"Night." I watched him disappear up the stairs. What I said was true, though. Had Taylor not died, Mom would've stayed. We'd still be a family. There'd still be hope that someday she'd change, and we might get along.

But that will never happen. Because Taylor did die, and Mom just left. Any chances the three of us had of starting over are gone now. And it's because of me.

I got Taylor killed, which caused Mom to leave. Dad's going to have to spend the rest of his life without the woman he loves, because I killed his daughter. Our family is dead now. And it's my fault.

Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I am a failure. The last person anyone would want on their side. Sure, Dad's still here. But he didn't choose which daughter it was that died. So, that makes me his second choice, his default.

I'm a mistake, and he's stuck with me. Who knows...maybe I'll get him killed, too. Maybe it'd be best if I just died. Do everyone a favor.

I decide to pass on getting food, choosing to let myself starve all night long. Letting that be part of my punishment for this mistake. Before heading up stairs, I decide to step outside and grab some dandelions for Sparkles.

I walked to the front room, slipping on my flip flops before opening the door. I close it behind me and walk across the driveway to our trash bins. There's always some over there.

I shivered at the ice-cold breeze, zipping my sweatshirt and then crossing my arms. I plucked the greens and then quickly made my way back to the door.

I pushed the tab on the handle down with my thumb and then pushed on the door. It didn't budge. I tried again. Sometimes this door doesn't like to cooperate. But nothing. The door didn't move. I silently cursed under my breath as I leaned my forehead into the door.

The doorbell stopped working last week, and there's no way Dad will hear me knocking from the second floor. I glance down at the light remnants of snow on the ground, guessing that it's at least in the mid-thirties.

"Okay." I turned, walking back across the driveway. This time, I walked past the trash bins and around the side of the house. I stopped on the brick path we'd made years ago and pulled out the loose brick in the middle, revealing a key wrapped inside a plastic baggie.

This isn't a house key. But it can still get me inside the house. I replaced the brick and continued around back to the large garden shed. I unlocked it with the key, swinging the door open.

I slipped the key in my pocket and fished the ladder out of the shed. After relocking the shed, I hauled the ladder around front. It's not one of those A-shaped ladders, so the odds of it slipping on ice are very high.

I unfold the ladder anyway and prop it on the edge of the gutter. I then slid the legs across the pavement and lined them up with the front bumper of my dad's car. This might be a bad idea, but right now, all I want to do is get inside before I get frostbite.

I push on the ladder a little to make sure it's sound. Then, I begin my trek up. The ladder shook a little, but I think that was mainly from me.

Halfway up, the ladder shifted, slightly sliding down. I muffled a scream as I heard the ladder dig into the car's bumper. Oh, well. I sigh and then quickly shoot to the top of the ladder.

I'm sure Dad will understand once I explain. I get to the top and decide to leave it standing, for fear of causing more damage to the car. I crawled across the slanted roof to Taylor's bedroom window.

The lock on the window has been broken since we moved in. Dad always swore he'd fix it. Thankfully, he didn't. I pop the window open, pushing it up as high as it could go.

Once I know it won't fall on me, I climb in, onto Taylor's computer desk. I put my left leg in, on the desk, then ducked and tried to squeeze in.

I was halfway in, when my jacket got caught on the window. It jerked me back, causing my foot to slide across the desk and slam into a stack of books.

All I heard was the books sliding and then slamming into something, before that something went crashing to the ground. Apparently, it was glass and is now in a million pieces on the floor. Just another thing to add to the list of things I've broken.

Sparkles started screeching at the shattering glass, nearly causing me to shoot out the window. I jumped and smacked my head on the window frame.

"Thank you." I looked at him accusingly. He screeched again. I dug into my pocket and pulled out his dandelions.

"Here." I threw them across the room to his cage. He squawked and jumped to the side as they hit the roof of the cage. "Now, shut up."

I went back to focusing on the window. A few seconds later and I was free. I climbed onto the desk and then sighed in relief when my feet hit the ground.

I could already hear Sparkles eating, so I knowhe got his food. I looked back at where the broken item is, not being able tosee it in the dark. I made a mental note to investigate it later, then I leftthe room before I could destroy anything else tonight.