Wit-Pro (Jenlisa)

22. The Lies They Told

"Come on, come through, you and your friend. I'll pour you some drink before your Father and Mother come, yes?"

"Thanks again Lucille." I watched with fondness as she shuffled over to the kitchen.

"Wow, nice place."

"Don't let the decor fool you, this place is more reminiscent of a psych ward." Nevertheless, Wends ignored my words and continued to snoop around curiously.

"Ugh fine, I can tell it's killing you. I'll show you my childhood bedroom and thats it."

She failed at muffling a squeal of excitement as we ascended a couple staircases up to my room.

"This is it." I took a quick inhale before opening it, I haven't stepped in here in almost 5 years, yet, it looked the same. Preserved in time almost. My bed was laid, the pillows plump and organised. My vanity mirror was sat just as it always was, at a slight angle so that the light would hit me just how I liked it. A hairbrush, couple of scrunchies and an open magazine were sprawled on my desk as if I'd just left the room like this 5 minutes ago. It was weird. I chose not to sit on my mini couch, afraid that the seat would still be warm. The place had a vibe as though it were currently lived in and it caused a sinister chill to rush through my body, as if the walls knew something I didn't.

"This you?" Wendy was at my bookshelf and admiring a few framed photos of me from my school days. 3rd grade spelling bee where I won first place, 7th grade science project on the solar system that I got an A+ in, 9th grade volleyball when I led my team to a seasonal win. In all the pictures there was a fake smile on my face as I was being awarded some kind of certificate, badge or medal, except I never did any of it for me, it was all to please my parents. Not that they were ever there. What the photo's don't show is Lucille standing on the sidelines beaming with pride as she watches me accept another prize. It was never my mother there to hug me afterwards or my Father to pat me on the back, always Lucille.

I feel sorry for the child in those pictures now. If I could go back in time I'd tell her not to waste her life trying to please people who never cared about her like their own. I was always an after thought, always second to Tae.

"Yep, unfortunately it is."

"Never pegged you as a volleyball player Jen."

"Neither did I, only did it for attention. It's stupid now, how many extra activities I did, and for what? A sheet of laminated paper? School was bullshit."

"At least you were cute, I was a mess in high school, my nickname was Weepy Wendy."

I laughed, fiddling with an old bracelet from my jewlery box. "Okay, yeah, that sucks. At least I waas never bullied."

"How could you have been? From the looks of it you probably led the pack.." She was flicking through my 8th grade yearbook with concentration, as if at any moment she would recognize a face from my past.

"Ugh please, not the yearbook Wendy! Have some mercy on me, it's Christmas!"

"No way, this is way too hilarious for me to pass up."

For the next 10 minutes we fell about laughing at cringy yearbook quotes and handwritten messages. It was so much fun that I almost forgot where we were.

"Okay, come on, let's go see where my folks are at so we can eat and go home."

Wendy followed me out as I shut the door behind us, intending to fully leave all sad memories of my childhood behind.

"Jennie, is that your Mom?"

Wendy was peering down the hall where, sure enough, my Mother was closing the door at the far end, clutching something tightly against her chest.