Weapons. Blades upon blades that can protect you or be used against you. When you think of weapons you think of swords, spears, knives, daggers. But you never really think of your mind. You never realise that you have already have a weapon protecting you from breaking and that weapon is your mind.
We're always told by philosophers, celebrities and psychologists that your mind is the most powerful thing in your life. You always believe it, you keep it in your thoughts for a few hours and then it just buries itself at the back of your brain, never to be seen when you are having a panic attack or when you feel like you're dying. Because your mind is a weapon. It can protect you or it can turn against you.
And most of your life you think that your mind is against you. That time you forgot your homework and you have to spend an hour in detention, or the time when you say something stupid, you blame your mind for not getting it correct. I have always been one to think that my mind was against me. It allowed that car accident to take my mind's blade and leave me hopelessly lost and confused. But what I realised very recently was that it isn't always against me. It kept me alive when I was in that black pit of nothingness, it pushed my body until I reached consciousness. I was nothing but a bag of fragile skin that could've been broken but my mind kept my heart beating and I was grateful that it didn't give up on me.
The night of the accident only came back to me when I was sitting there and crying. I was alone in the dark room and through the foggy mess of negative thoughts in my head, the memory flashed like a torch.
The atmosphere wasn't too different, it was dark outside and we had the lights on in the car. Quiet music was playing in the background and I was in the passenger's seat, looking out of the window. Martin and Amy were asleep, their heads lolling from side to side when we hit a bump in the road. It was the normal ambience of a short road trip.
I was writing down notes on my phone, describing the scenery outside and lyrics that I liked. It was something I did a lot of the time; making notes on what's happening around me for my poems. I got tired after a while so I tucked my phone in a pocket and looked straight ahead. We were driving in a linear line when I spotted another car driving toward us. Just as I was about to point it out to Mum, the car came speeding towards and Mum swerved right. The swerve was so powerful that I felt like my beating heart was going to rip out of my chest as we crashed into a tree. My head smashed the window and I felt like the air was knocked out of me. I was light-headed, my chest was tight in my baggy jumper and my blood turned cold. The last thing I saw were the blue butterfly stickers Martin had stuck to the ceiling of our car before the pain in my head took over and my body shut down.
I didn't know that I'd closed my eyes while replaying the memory until I was met back with the murky darkness of our room. I wiped my tears away and took deep breaths to calm myself down but my heart continued beating against my ribcage. I heard footsteps and within seconds there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," I said in a hoarse voice, once again wiping my eyes. The door swung open and Fred was revealed.
"Your aunt and cousins are leaving," he explained. "Poppy told me to fetch you so you can say goodbye."
"I'll be there in a second." Fred stood outside the room for a few more seconds.
"You shouldn't take it to heart. She doesn't have a right to say those words because she hasn't seen how hard you work."
How did he know though? We were in the same English class but he'd never read anything I'd written.
"I know," I replied. "Thanks."
We walked out of the room to see Aunty Lauren zipping up her coat and the cousins busily talking to the Darwin twins and my siblings. Marie made sure to bat her eyelashes when she saw Fred and I could just feel him getting tense. My expression was stone cold as I awkwardly shook hands with Aunty Lauren and retreated back to my room. I had never been the perfect niece and I wasn't about to give her the illusion that I wasn't insulted and disappointed.
***
The media camouflages so much of our day to day lives that sometimes, I want to throw my phone at the wall and never go on the internet again. It's like a fairytale for children; the girl wakes up looking flawless, they pick out the perfect outfit, have a healthy breakfast and they're always in a good mood. It never focuses on the girl who has a bad hair day, with eye-crust in the inner corners of her bloodshot eyes, the girl who has no time for a remotely healthy breakfast and the girl who only has the goal of getting through the day.
The mess of a girl is thought of as an embarrassment but she's the realistic out of the two. You don't wake up in the best mood every single day. You don't wake up looking like a celebrity. And the media doesn't understand that it's OK to be that way.
I had one of those messy mornings. All I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and never come out when I realised that I still hadn't finished my newspaper page and Eliza was going to have my head if I didn't turn it in. I was still miserable from last night, my phone was uncharged, my skin was pale and oily against the dark crescents under my eyes, my shirt had a stain on it.
The next day was lackluster as well. I didn't talk during breakfast or the car ride to school, just looked outside and fiddled with the buttons on my blazer. Mum had reassured me that Aunty Lauren didn't mean a word of what she said but I perfectly well knew that she did. Amy kept me up until midnight, complaining about how much of a boaster she was and ranted on about how Marie flirted with Fred. If she thought that I liked him then she had the wrong idea. Heck, I didn't even think we were friends.
The school day went slowly, the only exciting thing was the print of the newspaper. People all over the school were reading it and that kind of raised my mood just a little bit but it didn't relive the tension in my stomach. I wasn't a professional at giving advice, I merely applied on a whim so my nerves were stretched by the end of the day.
But if the torture wasn't already enough, I had to babysit Martin for a few hours. Mum and Paul were going out for dinner and I knew Amy wasn't going to be a huge help so I wallowed in my own pain during the bus ride home. All I wanted to do was to stay in bed and do things that had nothing to do with writing, school or communication. I hoped that babysitting meant lying on the sofa and watching cartoons with my brother and not doing anything else. Who am I even kidding, this whole night is filled with false hopes.
"You're alright with watching him until ten?"
"Yes Mum. Go out and enjoy yourself," I reassured.
Amy was not happy that they were going out to dinner. She argued that she had too much coursework to work on and she won't be able to concentrate if Martin was running around like a wild monkey. I could see Mum internally struggling and hesitation setting in her columbine blue eyes. I'll admit, sometimes Amy and I acted like children. We would get overdramatic, throw tantrums and cry when we got told off but in this situation I felt like we had to step back. Not saying that I adored Paul but Mum had tired herself out for the past few weeks and she deserved a night out.
I dragged Martin to the sofa and made him pick a cartoon to watch. Mum gave each of us a kiss and Amy munched on popcorn and frowned at the TV.
"Patman Post? Seriously Mart? Have you ever watched Teletubbies? Lazy Town?"
Martin shook his head and kept his eyes glued to the screen. Amy looked at me with an incredulous expression before muttering, "Kids these days."
I rubbed my eyes after the slow and tiring day at school and slumped against the cushions. Exhaustion washed over me and the noise from the TV softly buzzed in my ears as I let sleep-
"I'm going out!" Amy announced proudly.
"Huh?" I shook awake. "What do you mean you're going out?"
"I'm going to a party with Jess and Ryan." Amy heaved herself off the sofa and went to our room. I jumped to my feet and ran after her.
"You can't leave us alone! Mum said that we both have to look after Martin."
"Watch me." Amy changed into a crop top and a skirt, already slathering make-up on her face.
"Please! I've had a rough day and I can't take care of Martin all on my own," I pleaded.
"Hope, listen, I need some time to cool down and enjoy myself. I've also had a rough few weeks and I need to blow some steam off. I'll be back before Mum and Paul are, I promise."
With that, she elbowed past me, grabbed her bag and left me speechless. Blood boiling, I slammed the door shut and went back to the living room. I loved my brother just as much as I loved my sister but he didn't like co-operating with me. I could see he always liked Amy more; because she was funnier, she baked him cakes, she let him eat and she always defended him when Mum was telling him off. I was only the sister with the good reading voice and besides bedtime stories, Martin wouldn't let me make his bath, bake him anything or tuck him in bed. It broke my heart when I was younger because not only was I the boring and awkward kid out of the three, but I was the second best sister. It wasn't fair
I sat back down and scrolled through baby name websites. Katherine had asked me if I could help her come up with names for our half-sister because apparently Dad was not creative when it came to names and I had agreed. Amy thought it was plain weird and left it all to me after I asked her if she wanted to help out.
My scrolling stopped and my phone froze as my ring-tone echoed in the room. I clicked the green phone and got up to go in another room. Martin didn't like his TV shows getting interrupted with loud phone calls (Amy).
"Hello?"
"Hey Hope, it's Love."
"I gathered that from the Caller Information. What are you up to?"
"Nothing much. Oh My God I am so angry! My parents were furious with my report and I didn't hear the end of the Love/ Prudence comparison until just now. I hate it how they always compare me to my sister, yeah we're twins but we're very different."
We chatted for a bit and she ranted all of her anger out. I wanted to do the same but I felt restrained. I didn't like bothering people with my problems because they already had enough of their own but Love was my friend and I knew she would understand.
"Mum and Paul went out for dinner and left us to look after Martin but Amy suddenly left to go to a party fifteen minutes ago so now I'm on my own."
"Oh that must suck!" Love exclaimed. "Kaydence, Amethyst and I had a fight and they're saying all this bad stuff about everyone which makes me want to rip their hair out. Bad Luck Webb is also being a douche and keeps rubbing it in my face that Shawn is going out with her. Ugh I hate life! I hate drama!"
"Well imagine your boyfriend dumps you by text and the next day your best friends tell you that you're making everyone pity you and that they're had enough of your little stunts."
"That's bad but-"
"And then your ex-boyfriend suddenly jumps up out of nowhere and asks you if you want him back because he's had enough of his toy."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. And don't worry your friends won't leave you like mine did. After all, you're Love Bonneville, the most popular girl in Year 9."
Silence. My heart sank at what I'd said. I knew Love was a very humble person and she was very sensitive to popularity. "I-"
"No. It's not a competition of who has it worse. Just remember that the next time you're having a hissy fit and degrading other people's problems!"
"Love I-"
The call ended and this time I did burst into tears. I was having a bad day and I let it all out on my friend who would let me rant until the sun rose if we could stay awake that long. I was overwhelmed; I was never the perfect niece, the perfect daughter, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect sister, the perfect friend. I could never be perfect at any of those positions. With tears still in my eyes, I went back to the living room.
"Come on Martin," I croaked. "Bath time."
A/N Yay I finally uploaded a chapter! And this one has had quite the sadness. I don't know what I was feeling while writing this but I knew that I wanted something raw and somewhat realistic. I love teen fiction but I always feel like there's this cliche that the guy or the love interest always make the mistakes and throughout the books, I don't see the main characters making any mistakes. Which is not OK because everyone makes mistakes. Hope is a very warm and genuine character to people who know she knows well and who know her well but that doesn't mean she never makes any mistakes.
Unfortunately school starts for me on the 5th so I will probably not update next week. I'm taking some time to organise things, finish a few wattpad books that I need to give feedback on and mentally prepare myself. All the best wishes for people crippled with anxiety like me, let's just dive right into the school year like a boss. Song for this chapter is Perfect by Selena Gomez. I swear I'm obsessed with her Revival album but I was listening to this song on REPEAT while writing this chapter and I think it kind of ties in with Hope not being 'perfect'. I haz Instagram (antoana0502) so make sure to follow me.
Antoana