All the Best People Are | ✓

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The Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?

Alice: I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret.

All the best people are.

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Listen to Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez for this chapter.
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"M'lady?"

Ty, my little brother, held the round porcelain teapot firmly in his chubby hands, offering me a drink with an irresistible dimpled smile. I couldn't help but grin and showed him my teacup, allowing him to pour me some of the steaming liquid. I brought the cup close to my lips and inhaled the aromatic scent of the freshly brewed tea. 

"Drink it fast. Before it gets cold," Gran said, her wrinkled face brightening with a warm smile. Everyone said I resembled her when she was younger; the honey blonde hair, light caramel eyes and the too-pale skin. Even now you could tell Gran was once a beautiful woman who turned heads as she walked down streets. But me, no matter how much I might look like her, I'm nowhere the same. I turn heads in the opposite direction. 

Ty offered Gran some tea, but she politely refused saying she wasn't in the mood, passing some biscuits my way. "So how is school going for you, dearie?" Great-aunt Vanessa asked chirpily, turning towards me with a smile. 

Immediately my mind produced the images of the hate notes people left in my locker, the odd stares I received in the hallway and the paper airplanes they threw at me in the middle of class. My face probably betrayed my anguish and panic because Gran instinctively edged closer and slung an arm around my shoulder. 

"My Skott here is an excellent student. Even her teachers say so. Always top of her class, this one," Gran announced proudly, coming to my rescue. I noticed how she said 'my Skott' as if I was hers and hers only. Like she was making a point that I'd always feel wanted here, at least by her. 

"Ah, I have no doubt this young man will follow in her footsteps," Great-aunt Vanessa declared, and Tyler giggled with pride. I pulled him onto my lap and ruffled his hair, watching him as he played with little blades of grass in his hands. 

I glanced over at all of them, smiling and laughing as if all was great in the world. Somehow, they'd fooled me into believing that too. The only one missing was Mom. 

"How is she?" Gran asked, as if reading my thoughts. I stared at my lap idly, trying hard not to cry. I tried not to think about all those nights Mom hadn't come back home from work, when I'd been lying next to Ty on his single size bed, narrating fairytales to him so that he wouldn't cry. I tried not to think about the times when I had to manage dinner for the two of us by making simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sometimes a light salad when I was in the mood.

But worst of all, I tried not to think about the times when Mom did come home. She'd always be drunk out of her mind, smashing decor, dropping china, punching walls. Breaking me. 

"Is it...... Worse than before?" Gran prompted gently, snapping me back to the present. But it was too late. The tears started to blur my vision and I quickly brushed them away before the others could notice. But Gran never missed a detail. 

"She'll be okay," she said, looking me square in the eye. I could tell she was trying to convince herself more than she was convincing me. "She will be okay."

As if on cue, we heard Mom's car pulling into the driveway. I could feel my hair stand on end as I looked around at the streamers hung upon the tree branches, the fairy lights dotting the bushes and the balloons littering the yard. We didn't have time. 

"Tyler, let's go," I said, pushing him off my lap and taking his hand in mine. "Off so soon?" Great -aunt Vanessa asked, her face contorted in exaggerated sadness. Gran shot her a look and waved us off in a hurry. I grabbed Ty and dashed off into the house. We'd just reached the kitchen when we heard Mom fiddling with the key in the front door. I could feel Ty stiffen beside me. I was relieved to find that he was still not at breaking point yet, so I didn't have to worry too hard about Mom hearing his panicked sobs. 

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS DAMN DOOR?" Whatever little hope I had inside of me that Mom hadn't drunk today, immediately vanished. We were goners. Before I could process what was happening, Mom banged the door open and made her way inside, the pungent smell of alcohol making its way through the kitchen door. This was enough to get Ty all worked up and I quickly put a hand on his mouth to keep his sobs from being heard. 

"It's okay, I'm here," I whispered softly, taking him in my arms. As quietly as possible, I opened the little door to the basement next to the fridge and descended the steps with Ty weeping in my arms. I tried my best to console him by singing some of his favorite lullabies as he sucked on his thumb. 

That was a habit he hadn't got rid of, even at five years old. I walked steadily around the room, trying to put him to sleep. The basement was my favorite place in the house. It housed all the paintings I'd made since I was a little girl. Painting was the only thing that gave me solace in this house. It was my escape from reality. I could feel the colors, I could merge in with the scenery. Escape. 

"It's all your fault." 

The voice sent chills down my spine and it took all of my effort not to scream with fright at the sight of Mom standing at the top of the stairs with a furious expression. This was not good. Not good at all. I set Ty down next to one of the canvases and looked up at her with as much contempt as I could muster. I was done with her blaming me for everything. I was done with her pretending as if she had no family. Because she did. And she was so close to losing them. 

"For what now? You already blamed me for what happened to Robin, for Dad leaving, for what-what happened to you," I choked out, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. "Isn't it bad enough that you blame my existence for every mistake you've made in your life?" I asked, willing myself to be brave.

"No, actually. Your existence is the mistake, Skott."

The silence felt like a stab to my heart, a cut down my throat and a punch to my already deflated self esteem. I didn't see the point in holding back tears anymore, and decided to let her know the effect she had on me.

"I can't believe I called you my mother for this long," I said, the tears streaming down my face now, "I can't believe I coped up with you for this long." I bit on my lip to keep from sobbing. "But now I'm done. I can't do this anymore, Mom. I'm leaving."

Another silence. This one was more painful than the last.

As an artist, I often saw the world in colours. Yellow for smiles and sunny days, brown for warm hugs and tea parties. Silver for wisdom and Gran's hair, blue for kindness and Ty's big eyes. But then, in that moment, all I could see was red. 

Mom didn't even bother to say anything to that. Just watched me in silence as I walked past her on the stairs. Didn't say a word as I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me. Didn't care and never would.

It's better to walk away from someone than let them walk all over you. Maybe it was time I learnt to make my own choices. Live my own life. Learn to feel wanted. 

I had my brush, I could buy some paint. Eventually, I would just find another canvas to dive into. Then I could paint all over the past. 

I ran out into the front yard, not daring to turn back in fear of facing Gran's disappointed expression for running away. She would take care of Tyler, I told myself. She would be there for him. 

As if on cue, I distinctly heard Tyler's voice coming from the front door. 

"Be back before sunset!"

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A/N Hello! If you're reading this- you're incredible and have definitely made my day. Thank you and I hope you'll continue reading All The Best People Are.

I welcome constructive criticism, but please don't forget the constructive part of it ;)

Have a great day!

~Via