The Willing Away Of Pain
Summary: Things get rough at home for Daria when her father and mother start fighting. She doesn't know what to do really, and Quinn's no use. No romance, for now, angst, changed due to flames.
Chapter 1
With a gasp I wake up at 5:30 Tuesday morning. My body is encased in sweat and I'm left breathing hard. It's been the same nightmare every week, no matter what I do, it always comes back. The thought of it makes me shudder, and I hug the blankets closer to me. I'm cold, the hot sweat has turned against me and left me shivering. I sigh, and climb out of bed. I make my way over to my bathroom and step in the shower.
I lay my head against the shower wall, the dream is still clear in my mind. It's horrible and I hope it's not true, I'm hoping with all my might it's not a premonition. But a dream, excuse me, a nightmare has never been so clear. I feel that foreign constriction of my throat and immediately swallow it down, I refuse to cry. It's just not what I do.
By the time it's 5:45 I'm out of the shower and already feeling that exhaustion only school can bring. School is like this job that seems pretty okay, it's work but nothing you can't handle, so you sign the contract and then all of a sudden you're suffering because you didn't read the fine print and a contract you can't get out of. Sheer hell. There's simply no other words to describe it.
Indeed.
I walk downstairs and sit down at the table. It's only 6 o clock so I don't have to imagine the look of confusion on my mother's face. It's right in front of me.
"Daria, it's only 6, what are you doing up so early?"
I shrug, I may be able to form coherent thoughts, but forming words is just not in me. It's the energy I don't even have for school. Much less to talk. I eat my breakfast in silence. By the time it's 6:30 I don't even realize that I've only eaten half of my cereal, and that I've been staring at the wall for the past 15 minutes.
I've been getting like this often. I just blank out and don't come back for a little while. It doesn't really bother me, I get to get out of this world for a couple of minutes. I can only assume this isn't healthy. That's my life, unhealthy. But it's what I'm accustomed to and I'm immune to anything else.
When I hear the shrill voice of my sister I decide to end the torture before it begins and walk up to my room and read or something. That's the highlight of my home life, reading a book. I suppose I could make it sound profoundly deeper, like reading a book to escape into someone else's world by avoiding mine. But it just sounds pathetic.
"DARIA!" Quinn screams.
That's my cue, she yells and I get ready to go to school. I'm fine with it, the less I have to talk to anyone of my family members, the better. I go downstairs and walk out to Dad's car.
"Daria darling, we're taking my car."
"Why?" I ask, what's wrong with Dad?
"Just get in the car."
I slide into the car and Quinn takes the front seat. I lean my head against the cold window, it feels nice. Like a hot fever reducing. Tranquil.
"Mom, why can't we take Dad's car?" Quinn asks, I smirk a little. This is nice, usually I don't have to ask, Quinn is nosy enough for the both of us.
Mom looks nervous, she tightens, flexes, and loosens her fingers on the steering wheel. "Well girls." she starts "your Father was fired, he's feeling pretty down. He just needs a couple of days to get back on his feet, then he'll start looking for a job." Mom's convincing herself.
I have absolutely no idea what will happen, Dad's pretty hard to predict.
I'm sure that Dad will find something to do. But Quinn is adamant that that's not going to happen.
"Fired!" she squeals. God I hate it when she does that in the morning. As if I don't hear it enough, now she adds it to morning, day, and night. "This is terrible! Dad's lost his job, we'll go bankrupt! I'll lose all my popularity rites! I'll be kicked out of the club! I'll have to go to the salvation army!"
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with the salvation army." I mention, smirking in a way that will make her face red and brighten my day.
She gasps "Oh no! I'll be like Daria! This is terrible mom!"
Quinn starts to cry, Mom comforts her as best as she can while trying not to swerve off into the road. Seeing as it is winter and all.
"Quinn, Quinn! Calm down. I still have my job which is fine to pay the bills. I'm just working longer days until your father gets a job. Then things will go back to normal."
Ahh yes, this is what Quinn wants to hear. Normal. So she sighs, wipes her tears, and rambles on about God-knows-who wearing Who-cares-what and I am stable. Normal is what Quinn only likes to hear. That she is popular, that I am not her sister, and that life is served on a solid gold tray summoned by the butler. I really couldn't give a shit. Reality will only hit her harder.
We approach the school and Mom slows down to let us out.
"Remember girls." she says "Things are going to be just fine."
I slam the door. Just fine doesn't sound appetizing.
The wind nips at my jacket and I hurry quicker to get into school.
It's all the same. The same people, the same situations, the same problems, the same answers. When does it all get worthwhile? I stop at my locker, blow the same whistle, and take off my jacket. I take the necessary books and head off to my first class. Art. With Jane of course.
I enter the classroom and sit next to Jane. My eyes are already heavy, ready to fall. For how many more times? Woah, too dark. I need something good to happen to me.
"How's it going?" Jane asks.
"It's, all too much drama for me to handle."
"Hmmm, things not heading your way?" She asks, sculpting something into form. 'Bringing it to life' as she tried to explain to me days before.
"No." I remark, sinking my head onto my arms and breathing deeply.
"Quinn's more annoying than usual, my dad got fired from his job, which means he'll be home all day. Skulking around and doing something, or nothing."
"He got fired? Ouch."
"Yeah." is all I can manage to say.
I pull out a piece of paper from the front of the room and saunter back to my desk. I take out a piece of charcoal and stare at the paper in front of me. Drawing has never been my thing, I'm not necessarily good at it, but every once in awhile I can conduct something noticeable. But being noticed isn't exactly what I want.
It's hard to say what I want anymore. I don't necessarily want anything, I suppose someone to listen to me, and it's not that Jane isn't great. It's just I would rather have it be someone else who can give me real answers and listen while I try to talk my way into getting real answers. Well, alright, maybe I am a bit lonely. But I just don't think this is the time for a relationship. Just more fucking stress I don't need.
I sigh, and start to drag the charcoal across the paper, making into a shape or form. My eyelids are still heavy. Half-lidded. I can't really recall what I'm doing, I feel bad for the paper. It could have been able to be graced with something useful, like the answer to world piece, or a way to man produce oil. When I open my eyes enough to see what I've drawn it's not half bad.
It's a girl, she's staring at me. Long flowing, waving hair. It's pushed behind her and flowing to the right with an imaginary breeze. Her smile tells me she's content, but her eyes tell me she's lying. How I've managed to put that symbolism in there is beyond me. I should research this.
"Not bad Morgendorffer." I hear Jane tell me.
I half smile and put this one in my folder to take home. This one just might be worth saving.
After school I head over to Jane's house to avoid my own house. It just doesn't seem very appealing. It doesn't, and it hasn't for a long time. It hardly feels like home unless I'm in my room, but even in there I don't trust that house, or myself.
We step in and the aroma of art supplies and some drug substance fills my nose. An odd smell, but comforting in some way, all I'm looking for is things to stay the same.
We find ourselves in the family room watching TV. Nothing but Sick Sad World for us. Only the best. Halfway through the program Trent meanders into the room and asks.
"Mind if I watch TV with you?"
"Sure." Jane says. Sometimes, I don't think Jane sees Trent as a brother, but as a friend. It's easy to see why, she doesn't judge you in ways you expect. But he can always come out with the brotherly talk whenever it's needed, he prefers not to use it, but it's always there. He has his duties as an older brother. It's good to see some people being useful in their families.
"Hey Daria." He says to me in that tone. A lot of people say it's monotone. But I think it's let out the emotions of who he is. But I still haven't figured out all of who he is.
"Mmm, hey." I say. Myself on the other hand, monotone all around.
We all resume back to the television.
At least I can come back to things being comfortable.
When 7 comes around I decide to head back, it's starting to get dark and I have homework to do. The thought of my parents worrying about doesn't even cross my mind.
I get home and walk through the door. My father isn't anywhere to be seen, I look around the kitchen and can't see anyone. I walk upstairs and I stop by my parents room, it sounds like someone mumbling to themselves, but I'm really in no mood to decipher the random spouts of insanity my father tends to adopt.
I walk into my room and everything is still, no more O-Town being played obnoxiously loud by Quinn, or my father's incessant ramblings. I do the homework that I've been assigned, read the required book pages, and take notes on the bullshit information that I probably won't take to a career level.
I go to bed around 11:16, something random like that, and wake up slowly. I look to my clock and notice it's 12:57, I hear something, it's pretty loud.
I bring myself to a rising position and listen. It's mom and dad, they're yelling. Loud enough that I can hear through the padded walls.
Curiously, I creep to my door and open it. Mom and Dad fight, but not when it's loud or late at night, when I open my door I can hear they're words clearly and concisely.
"What if I don't want to look for another job Helen! What if I don't feel useful? Then what?"
"Jake! Don't you think you're too old for this whole self-doubt faze! Must you always have to come to me to get some kind of reassurance? Why must you be so naïve?"
"Oh, I'm naïve? That's great! That's just great!"
I hear the door slam twice and the sound of the car starting, revving up, and leaving. I hear my mother let out an impatient sigh and get ready for bed. Neither of them seem to care that their children probably heard their fights.
I don't like it when it gets like this, it makes me nervous. My parents are both too proud for their own good, not a good match when it comes to admitting their faults. Which all too often, need to be admitted.
I take my bottom lip in the mouth and bite, a nervous habit that I've acquired when I'm by myself. I close the door quietly as to not arouse suspicion and look around the room. I'm not so tired anymore, new worries are added to my mind.
I settle back into bed and let out a big sigh. My only hopes are that mom and dad will see the light like they always do, come to a head, share a hug, a kiss, and continue on semi-happily until the next fight takes its place. The routine that I've been used to since I was a kid. Screwing that up will in turn, probably screw me up.
I bury my head under my covers and listen for anything.
If my dad comes home in 10 seconds, everything will turn out ok.
10
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2
I hear a car come down the street and listen closely, the lights from the car reflect off my window and pull in to the house next door.
For the second time today, since 7 years ago, I have to will myself to not cry.
Crying is sort of like admitting defeat, once you surrender there's really no turning back.
End Chapter
A/N: Okay, so I changed the story because I was getting a lot of complaints, and I know that Jake is self-employed but lets just say that he works for a company that allows him to be self-employed and that company fired him. There might be romance in this story if I can work it into it and if it plays out right. I'm not sure.
So RandR.