Faking Us ✔️

twenty six

Cassie
~

I didn't go to school today.
Mom has been having manic episodes lately. After I left Luca's house Friday, I walked into the kitchen and saw the glass covering the tiled floor. Dad was sweeping up most he could, but I stopped him in case he accidentally cut himself. I told him to go take care of her while I cleaned up the rest.

She got mad for no reason and threw the vase of white roses onto the ground. There doesn't have to be a reason for bipolar disorder.

There's highs and lows. She has great days and then she has bad days. Her brain is chemically unbalanced. It's not her fault. She can't help it, but she can treat it.

Only if she treats it correctly
Which is why we're moving.
Which is why she desperately needs the treatment center.

After picking up the remaining pieces of glass and throwing them in the trash, I quietly walk upstairs and peek in their bedroom. She is peacefully sleeping while Dad rubs her back.
I love their love.

Mom had a good day Saturday and almost all of Sunday. She slept most of the day and came downstairs around six to eat supper. I had cooked some tomato soup with pepper Jack grilled cheese sandwiches. It always seems to cheer her up... or so I thought.

She kept mentioning boyfriends to me and asked if I was still dating Marcus. When I told her no she got upset. Mad. Angry.

"Well, what did you do, Cassie?"

Dad shifted in his seat and continued to stare down at his plate before scooping some soup into his mouth.

I clear my throat awkwardly.
"What makes you think I did something?"

He looks up abruptly. The tone in my voice was unexpected but I will not be made into the problem of why we broke up.

She doesn't say anything else before eating some of her dinner. Her appetite is severely different with the medication. Her body can't keep up with everything she takes and everything she doesn't take.

She's definitely thinner than normal.

"I didn't do anything, Mom," I tell her silently. Almost hoping she doesn't get mad again. "He doesn't treat me well. It needed to happen."

And her mood quickly shifted.

"I know you didn't do anything, honey. I'm so sorry. You deserve better. Like Luca. You two are still together, right?"

I show her a grin. "Yeah, Mom, we are."

When Monday came, I woke up to two messages from Luca and one from Sydney. They were both checking in on me to see if I was okay. It's not common for me to skip school, but I was mentally exhausted from the weekend.

After texting them both, I quickly stepped into the shower and washed off my guilt. I don't know what's gotten into me, but I feel guilty like I had something to do with her diagnosis. Maybe she's this way because of me. I'm a teenager. I'm a handful.

But you're not responsible for her mental health.

I brush my teeth and throw my wet hair in a towel before walking downstairs. Since I'll be home all day, I'll wear my favorite black leggings with a school hoodie. Once my bright yellow socks land on the kitchen tiled floor, Dad murmurs under his breath.

"Skipped school today?"

I grab the box of Trix cereal. "Skipped work today?"

He nods slightly. "Perhaps."

"It seems that way," I say with a smile as I pour the colorful cereal into my bowl. "Where's Mom?"

It's quiet in this two story, 3,200 square foot home, which bothers me. Normally, the news is on in the living room and a fresh pot of coffee is made. Not having that to wake up to is like a piece of Mom is missing from the house and I don't like it.

"She's asleep."

I glance at the time on the microwave. It's almost one in the afternoon. "Still?"

"Let her sleep," he yawns. "We could all use the rest."

As I finish eating and rinse my bowl in the sink, Dad leans against the counter beside me.
"I took off to handle a few more things before we move after you graduate. I need to call the treatment center and go over payments," he placed his hand on my right shoulder. "If you need to leave and get out of the house for a minute you can. I'll be right here all day."

A small smile tugs at my lips. I'd love nothing more than to see Luca right now, but I can't leave him. "I'm staying with you, Dad. I'll help with whatever you need."

He pulls me into a tight hug before resting his chin on the top of my head. The protection I feel from my dad is comforting in so many ways. I could wrap my arms around his back and cry for as long as I wanted to, and he wouldn't care.

"I love you so much, sweetheart. We're going to get through this."

My throat goes dry as a few tears escape my eyes. I can feel the wetness run down my nose while I weep into his arms. I know we're going to get through this, but I sometimes start to second guess myself.

"I love you too, Dad."

• • •

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