It is one thing about being grounded. It is another thing about losing your privilege. But, it is something else where your punishment has to be confined in a room without the necessities of typical teenaged living. It is like reliving the colonial age where the only source of entertainment was making shadow puppets; telling stories; and watch the events unfold outside; no matter how lackluster it is. Lincoln chose the latter, he watched as ants were crawling on his window. They were moving upward, all in a snake-like path to parts unknown. For a moment, he envied those ants. He, too, wished that he can go somewhere far away.
The room reminds him of an interrogation room. Four walls, one table, cold. The latter was the best adjective he could configure because of his current living condition. The day of his grounding. His mother came inside with unremorseful eyes. It would have been fortunate if Lincoln could have seen those eyes. But her direction focused on the removal of items. His father came with one focus in mind, to remove the items of choice. Both gave him the silent treatment as they took away his television, his laptop, his cell phone, and worst of all, his walkie talkie. The refusal of denying him such a precious resource to the outside world became unbearable to him that he wanted to respond. Before parting his mouth, both turned to him and gave him a sickening glance. His pleading eyes gave them disgust. Their expression read if they stay any longer, they too will pick up his ignorance. Both exited the room quickly as they entered.
Before closing the door, Lincoln saw the person who had caused him to be in this predicament. She blended very well in the background for her parents didn't even gave her any attention. The interaction between her and the door was only a couple of seconds, but those seconds were limitless, capturing a picture of that particular moments. Her cheeks were red and puffy as if she had been crying. Her eyes were dull. Lincoln couldn't garner the words of his sunken grief. Before he could open his lips, giving a reaction, something to show solace and atonement for what he had done, the door closed.
He was split from the world outside of his own. Confined with nothing but his thoughts. Plenty of time to think of what he has done to get himself in this position.
Plenty of time to think about his sister, Luna.
Lincoln returned to the window where the ants continued making their venture. Back to your regularly scheduled program, he thought as he let out a self-deprecating smirk. He slightly turned where the shadow of his entertainment used to be. He reminded himself that he needed to clean the dust.
Dust, dust. Is that we all end up eventually, dust? Dust gathers around us. It clings to us, reminds that we too will eventually age. Dust is stuff we gathered throughout time. Dust is...dust is...well, it is dust.
With the free time on his hands, he can come up with better topics for his thoughts. The sound of a car door closing alerted him. He went to the window and saw Luna entering the silver Porsche that belonged to her girlfriend, Sam. He watched as the car sped away into oblivion. The silver Porsche has become to norm to him whenever she comes and picks up Luna.
Seeing Sam smile whenever seeing the brunette made Luna's eyes lit. They greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek, holding hands and sitting on the front porch. Every time, they relaxed and played guitar. They kicked back and listened to music. They played in each other's hair. The love birds giggled with one another until the sun fade away.
The more the two became intimate, the more it became worrisome to Lincoln.
And his relationship with his sister.
Why didn't you take me to the concert?
Didn't you promise me you will take me?
You said that last time.
Yes, you did. You say that you will take me but instead you go with her.
What is the matter with you?
Since you have been dating, you have forgotten about me. Haven't you?
Was I taking too much space for you? Not enough room for you and her together?
Was I a filler until she came into your life?
So, she comes first and your little brother, your blood, has to wait in line for a spot available to see you?
Am I wrong? It is always "me and Sam have to go shopping for new guitars." "Me and Sam have to go to the movies." "Sorry, but I can't make to your comic book contest this afternoon. I promised Sam that we were going to…"
Me and Sam. Me and Sam. Me and Sam. It is always you two. Where do I fit in the picture? Does any of your sisters fit in the picture?
I am tired of the sorries. I am tired of the excuses. I am tired of you. If you don't want to spend time with me, then say it.
Say it, Luna. Say that "you don't want to spend time with me because my girlfriend is more important than you."
What, can't talk? Just because she is right beside you that you feel that I am unworthy of a response.
Well, fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I hope that you enjoy your life with that dyke girlfriend of yours. Enjoy your life with her and without me. Fuck you, Luna and fuck you, Sam.
I wished I never helped you with that letter. Just fucking die, you lesbian bitch.
He was too caught up in the moment where he didn't know that his parents entered the living room. They didn't hear the majority of the conversation. Just the latter part of when he cursed out his sister and her girlfriend. Luna returned him a slap to his face. She reached for it again before pushing him to the ground. She got on top of him and continued slapping him. Through her hot tears, through she anger, she lashed out on Lincoln.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
Fuck you, too.
Fuck you, too.
Their parents came and separated the dueling siblings. Lincoln lunged forward to get Luna, but was caught in the grips of his father. Their mother took Sam and Luna out of the room. Lincoln continued shouting to Luna from the living room.
Fuck you.
Fuck you.
Die, you dyke bitch.
I wish you were never my sister, you fucking cunt.
A few moments later, their mother returned. Before Lincoln could produce a response, she slapped him on his already tender face. His father didn't even flinched. He, himself, was flustered and upset of the harsh words he told his sister.
Never in my years as a mother have I ever felt a strong disappointing disgrace to you, Linc. You should ashamed of yourself.
Your mother and I did not raise any ignorant children. Who are you to judge on who can bring one happiness?
I am very upset with you. Look what you did to your sister. I don't blame her for putting those marks on you. I wish she would have done more. We don't take care of children who make fun of being gay.
I don't want to look at you no more, son. Go upstairs and we will discuss what we will do with you.
Hearing those words from you, I am petrified. You make me sick!
Hearing those final words left him breathless. From that moment, if lightning struck him, he wouldn't mind it. If the Lord brought the rapture, he wouldn't mind that. As he walked the stairs, his eyes were met with many disappointing ones. Many were shaking their head in disappointment, disapproval, ashamed to know that ignorance lied in the household. He didn't turn to look at Luna. He walked the path of embarrassment and shame before closing his door that is now his solitary confinement.
He was to be grounded for four weeks. No phone, no computer, no comic books, and no television. His food was going to be brought to him. He can leave the room for the bathroom only. Finally, he has to write an apology letter to Luna and to Sam for his "ignorance of lifestyle choices." They told him if he took a tolerance class at the community center, then they would reduce his sentence.
The worse part of it was all of it was sent in writing. The final blow was the decision of the family to give him the silent treatment.
He pressed his hands to the window, staring at the ants that were making a path. He watched as each ant helped each other to go to their destination. They had a purpose, an intent; to go to their next venture. At least, they were doing it together.
He lied on the bed and he stared at the ceiling. He felt compressed as if the ceiling was going to cave in at any moment, crushing him and juicing him until he was nothing but pulp.
For a moment, he didn't mind that.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. He didn't realize that he drifted into sleep. When scanning the window, it was night. A second look showed the ants were gone.
"Come in," he answered flatly, but faintly.
The door opened and his mother made her appearance. She displayed the same dull, pale eyes she gave him earlier that day. She had a tray in her hand. She put the tray down on his desk. Without saying a word or giving him a glance, she closed the door.
"Soup and crackers," responded Lincoln to himself. "I swore I have smelled chicken masala. Then yet again, it may have been my imagination."
He stepped out of bed to get his dinner. The soup lacked character. That was the thought he had produced about his dinner. He saw his reflection as he looked over the soup. He saw his face, red like a tomato from the slap he received from his mother and his sister. His eyes were sunken. He had a smug expression. He tightened his lip to combat the tears. The entire time he had focus on his sister and his sister alone.
Why did you abandon me? Why did you abandon me? Am I not enough for you? I wanted to be the one to dry your eyes, make you smile, make you laugh, make you move. I thought it would forever be you and me. Even that appears to be wrong.
He picked up the spoon to eat his soup. A lump produced in his throat as he took his first taste.
"Luna made this." He said to himself.
She wasn't much of a cook. Anything she made, it turned to a disaster. Once when Lincoln was sick, Luna was the only one home to take care of him. With her studio session cancelled, she stayed home and took care of him. She stayed in his room at his bedside. She played guitar for him. She read to him. She did everything an older sister should. When he was hungry, she made him chicken noodle soup.
I know it is canned soup, Linc. But I sprinkled some spices and added some shredded cheese to give it some flavor.
He adjusted himself to have her feed him the soup.
"It was delicious, just like it was the day when I was sick," he said to himself.
Luna only made her chicken noodle soup for Lincoln whenever he had bad days, when he was sick, or whenever he wasn't feeling himself. Under those circumstances, she always did it to brighten his day.
He let out a sigh. "She does care," he said before taking another bite of the soup.
After he finished the soup, he went to his desk. He reached for a notepad in the drawer and got a pen from his backpack. He was preparing to write a letter for Luna.
The sound of a car horn interrupted his writing.
The familiar sound of grunge was blaring from the car. He frowned upon knowing that it was Sam outside. He got from his seat and face the window. He watched Luna leaving the house in a hurry. She wasn't wearing her usual attire. She was wearing a long pretty dress. That was very atypical of her compared to her typical rock attire. Sam stepped from the car wearing a casual tuxedo with tennis shoes. She came and ran to his sister. They were in each other's arms, exchanging kisses and flirting glances. They were in each other's embrace for a few moments before she opened the door for Luna to get in. He watched as the silver Porsche disappeared into the night.
Lincoln lowered his head. He wrapped his fist and hit the wall. The impact of force didn't make him respond. He was in pain, but it didn't compare to the hatred that he had for Sam.
It is your fault, Sam.
It is your fucking fault.
Lincoln returned to his desk where he saw the apology letter. He tore it into pieces before discarding it in the trash. He tossed the lamp to the wall, breaking it and leaving him into the dark. He returned to his bed where he lied at the ceiling. He refused to cry. He refused to do anything to display satisfaction to Sam, Luna, or his family.
Screw them. Screw them all. Why would they give a care about me anyway? I am just in the way. It wasn't just her, it is everybody. I make you sick, mom. I am ignorant, dad. Why give me those faces, sisters. You would love if I disappear.
In that moment, he had a plan.
The next day, his father woke him up for school. It is a cold greeting. He showered and went downstairs where the family was eating breakfast. The smell of french toast loomed throughout the house. His breakfast, whatever the school was offering. His father left him some money.
Until you learn how to become part of this family, you are not part of this family.
Lincoln left the money on the living room table and say aloud that he was leaving for school. It was on deaf ears, but he needed something to alert them.
Because school is not where he is going. He made his plan. In his backpack, he had enough supplies to carry him for whatever he needed to go. Also, last night, he sneaked into his parent's bedroom where he went to their safe and retrieved his cell phone. Also about $400 in cash. He laughed to himself on why parents keep their password as 0000?
He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he wanted to be far away from his family. It doesn't matter. One less thing to worry about, if you ask me. Since I am not part of this family, I am no longer part of this family.
He was a few blocks away from his neighborhood as he ventured to the town square. He was approaching a diner where he saw the silver Porsche parked at a house across the street. He recognized as clear as day. It belonged to Sam.
Emotions returned as he looked at the car as a symbol of his split from his sister. He gnashed his teeth in despisement of Sam.
You took her away, you fucking cunt. You are the reason why my sister won't be with me. You, you, you.
His initial thought was to scratch the car with one of his drawing pens as a parting gift. However, he put his hand to the opening of the driver's door. The car was open. For some reason, he needed to get inside of that car. He wanted to know something, a side of Luna he didn't see.
He stepped inside of the silver Porsche. The car smelled of fresh vanilla. He adjusted the seat. On the console, he saw a picture of her and Luna. They were at the SMOOCH concert he was supposed to attend with Luna. She had a spare ticket and decided to use it for Sam instead. He snatched the picture and toss it out of the window. More things filled his mind.
Have they made out in this car?
What expression does that bitch give to my sister?
Have they had sex?
Seeing her stroking her dirty hands on my damn sister. Kissing her neck and making her wet. Putting her putrid hands on her tits. That sickening, disgusting whore. I can't stand that fucking piece of shit. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you very much.
He hit the steering wheel with his fist. He was shouting in agony.
"Luna," he screamed. "Luna!"
Once he calmed down, he saw something that got his attention. Above the sun visor was a key. He stared at the key like it was a talisman. A sinister thought entered his mind.
Yeah, that is it. You can't take Luna out on a date without your silver Porsche. You can't bring your dyke, slutty ass around to my house anymore with this, Sam. Well, Sam, you took my Luna away. Now, I am going to take something of yours away.
Although he has yet to receive a learner's permit, he was a good driver. He, at some point, even taught Leni how to drive.
Without giving a second thought, he put the key into the ignition. The sound of electronica music filled the car. Disgruntled, he ejected the CD and tossed it out of the window. He took the AUX cord and plugged it into his cell phone. He scanned a song and began playing it. Papa Roach's "Last Resort" filled the car as he put it into drive.
He drove away and he disappeared into oblivion.