And Then There was Lathlynn

Chapter Seven

The man in white starts my day off with a dry throat and weary eyes. I don't feel like I can talk so maybe today is a good day not to. Yesterday would've been a great day to keep my mouth shut, but I'd say I failed at that.

I sit up and see that it's a little after 5:30. I'm not sure what it is, but time either makes me extremely comfortable or completely mad. If I'm late, I get all panicky. If I'm early, I get anxious. There is no in-between.

I force myself out and off my bed to begin the morning routine. I took a shower yesterday, so no shower right now... even though it sounds great. A grey knitted sweater appears out of the drawer and into my hands along with dark blue skinny jeans. No, I'm not wearing it to make people awe in amazement; just to cover up, that's all. 

Quickly, I slip out of my night time wear and into my clothes for today. Now it's 5:39; I'm moving too slow.

My door opens, my feet shuffle, and there I am back in the kitchen. Strange, I both love and hate this room. I'm not all entirely sure what I want but I'll start by some eggs. Unfortunately being short means getting dishes is harder. I suppose I'm not that short but I'm certainly not 'tall'. Nonetheless, standing on the tip of my toes I get one of the plain white plates.

It slipped out of my hand. I wobbled over, just a little, and it fell.

"Ugh," I quietly yell.

Broken plate pieces are scattered all over the kitchen floor. It's too hard not to see it.

Rose peeps into the kitchen.

"Did you...?" Rose's child eyes get wider as she scans the kitchen floor.

"Shh, I'm cleaning it up... whatever you do, don't tell-"

"Mom! Mom!" Rose, you... little... brat.

"Shh no, stop. It's okay. Shh. Rose." I scurry over the mess to Rose and put my hand over her mouth.

Ugh. No. Just. No. No on every level possible. No. No. No.

"What is it now?" Mom doesn't sound happy at all.

"Nothing Mom, nothing at all." My hand is still covering Rose's mouth, holding back words.

She bit me. Rose bit me.

"Lathy broke something!"

"Rose, shut your little face right now." I mumbled in her ear.

"Mom, it's seriously nothing."

"I stepped on a piece!"

"Don't lie!"

"I did! My foot hurts."

I hear Mom get up. Rose slips out of my grip, goes straight for the mess, steps on a piece with her small fragile kid feet and just - "No, Rose, stop!"

When Mom gets to the kitchen Rose is crying because now there really is a cut on her foot. It's 5:52, the day barely started, the sun still coming up, and I can feel it about to happen.

"Lathlynn Whitmore!" Oh snap. My last name. The one passed down from Dad.

"Mom, just let me explain." 5:53.

"I don't want to hear what you have to say."

"But Mom, you don't -"

"No Lathlynn. Just stop."

"Mom. Please, just -"

"Lathlynn."

It's 5:54. I can't even talk. No words. She wouldn't listen anyway.