Click. I was blinded by the flash of a camera, resisting the temptation to blink. I instantly dropped my fake grin and turned around, away from the annoying crowd. "Lely! Why don't you hang out for a bit more?" my mother asks before I'm able to escape the room. I inwardly groan and reply, "I need to finish my homework."
"You can do that later. It's your brother's birthday," I turn and look at her, "And we have guests." I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
My mother is one for making appearances. She likes controlling our family to make everyone outside of us think we're perfect—especially me. As she's told me in the past, I'm the 'problem child'. I'm the only kid in the family that won't comply to anything our mother want of us. 'Us' refers to me and my three brothers, each of which are like my mother's puppets.
First is Jared, the eldest at 24. He's in medical school now, but he's constantly Skyping my mother to see how she's doing. Their conversations usually last for a couple hours, mainly with my mother telling him over and over how proud of him she is and wondering when he will finally find a suitable woman.
Second is Don, one year younger than me today at 16. He's extremely athletic, he aces any test put in front of him, and is dating the prettiest girl in school. My mother speaks to him at dinner, showering him in praise and expectation for the future.
The youngest is Kyle at 13. He's basically a mini Don, but he's a tad shy. Personally, Kyle's my favorite. He's the only one that listens to me. He's told me it's because, "If Mom wasn't here, you would be a better mom." I guess being the only girl besides my mother in our family helps our relationship, since our brothers leave it to me to be the good older sibling.
I, at age 17, am Lely—the only child with an abnormal name. I do fine in school, as my mother would tell you. I don't excel like my brother's do, which upsets my mother. I participate in Art and Chorus, which my mother sees as worthless fields in education. I revolt, of course. As of late, my room is covered in paintings and I have completely ridden my bookshelf with sheet music and lyrics. If you haven't quite noticed, I don't really like my mother. She's a perfectionist, and if you do anything that stops you from reaching this "perfection" she disgraces you in front of the family…which has already happened to me.
My mother has some anger problems, though she is not been diagnosed with any mental or medical disorders. Her lapses of anger are usually triggered when I and my siblings "disappoint" her. These little fits cause her to be extremely cruel and violent, and the worst part is that she decides when they stop. She can take out all of her anger out on one of us for a whole night if she wanted to, which, in my case, has happened. She locked me in my room after I came to dinner to tell her I had failed a small assessment in kindergarten. She kept me without food until dinner the next day, before which she had slapped me when I asked if I could have seconds after being hungry for so long. She had told me no, of course, and said that a child of hers wouldn't be fed unless they were worth something. That was the first time. The second time was second grade, when I had forced Don to keep (the fact that I had told my teacher about my mother) a secret. Don went to his mommy and cried, "Sissy was baaaad!" Once my mother learned of what I had done, she threw me in my room and slapped me harder than any other times before. The next morning when my mother dropped me off, she talked to the teacher about the problem and lied about how she treated me. The teacher believed her from what I saw, and always thought whatever I said was extremely exaggerated.
After that I never confided in Don, since I knew his urge to please our mother was great and would dictate his every move. The only reason that I trust Kyle is that when he was younger he was punished and I came into his room to give him some food left over from dinner. I sympathized with him, since he had gone through what I had. After that, though, he wasn't punished as badly. Did I mention that my mother didn't punish the boys as badly, if she did at all? It is quite unfair, though I've gotten so used to things like this in our family. I never really figured out why she's treated me worse than the boys, but it may be as simple as that I keep pissing her off.
"Mother, if I don't finish my homework my grades will go down, and I don't want to stay up too late finishing it." I can see my mother's false grin falter in annoyance. "Alright. If you insist, hon," my mother replies and sends me a glance as I turn away that tells me she is displeased. I quickly walk away, upstairs and into my room. I plop down onto my bed, and groan. I honestly didn't have homework, but I kept a book and paper handy in case someone were to come in. I got up, and grabbed a lyric sheet that I had printed out. There was an audition for lead singer in an upcoming Choir performance, and I was going to try to get win the part.
In Choir, I am considered one of the strongest singers, and sometimes I'll get a lead. The only performances I audition for are during school hours, because my mother wouldn't dare accept me going anywhere for Choir or art. For any other class, she would accept, but since she hates the fact I'm participating Art and Chorus, she would destroy my opportunity to even sing or paint.
I glanced over my lyric sheet and nodded, assured that I had remembered the words. I pressed a few buttons on my stereo, connected my phone to it by wire, and pressed play after making sure the volume was fairly low.
I took a deep breath and sang.
"Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame
Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, and needy
Warm me up and breathe me
Ouch, I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found
Yeah, I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe
Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, and needy
Warm me up and breathe me
Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, and needy
Warm me up and breathe me."
It was a shorter song, but the performance would be choreographed. I turned off the stereo and disconnected my phone. I turned, and slightly jumped at the sight of Kyle in the doorway, "Gosh, Kyle!" He was smiling. I almost felt embarrassed, but being on stage for my Choir performances had hardened the feeling. "You sing good," he told me. "Well," I corrected him, "Don't let Mother catch you without proper grammar."
He smiles, and I smile back, motioning for him to come in. He sits on my bed in the corner of the room, "Mom told me you were doing your homework… I knew that wasn't the case, so I came to hang out while she was distracted."
"I'm almost surprised she hasn't already told everyone about how perfect Don is," I say, "But I guess she's busy telling everyone about his 16th birthday car." Kyle is silent at the subtle spite in my words. Being one year older than Don and not yet receiving a vehicle or help to obtain one, I was kind of pissed that my brother got something I didn't. But as I've said before, I've gotten used to the unfairness of my mother.
"Kyle!" I hear mother cry from downstairs. I shake my head, "I'd suggest getting down there before she notices you were talking to me… She might think you were interrupting me." Kyle nods, but before he leaves my room he turns to hug me. I'm shocked. He quickly reverts and rushes out saying, "I'm coming, Mom!"
A happy grin spreads across my face. Kyle was the only one in the family that gave real hugs. My other brothers and my mother hug and kiss my cheek occasionally, but only in public or while taking pictures. My mother's habit of making appearances has rubbed off on all three of them, but Kyle is the only one that cares.
I sigh, regretting I get lost in my thoughts. It was a horrible habit that I had—another I was reprimanded for. I shook my head and checked the time. 8:56. I wondered how long the party would last, I hadn't paid attention to any of the invitations people had needed to get into the party. I stood up and hummed to a catchy tune that had gotten stuck in my head after binge listening to random radio stations earlier in the day.
Screaming, crying, perfect storms
I could make all the tables turn
Rose garden filled with thorns
Keep you second guessing like oh my god
Who is she? I get drunk on jealousy.
I stopped humming when I heard Don practically yell, "Oh my god, Mom! A car?!" I rolled my eyes and huffed. Must be nice. I guessed the party would be over soon, since Don's best gift has already been given. I pulled open a drawer of PJ's and changed into some sleep shorts and a baggy t-shirt I got from my dad's old stuff.
My dad left when I was born, I guess for another girl. My mother had Don and Kyle with another man, who also left. My mother isn't so lucky with men. All I know about my father is my mother telling me he was prude and a gold-digger that left for some girl ten years younger than him. I remember the way she hesitated and looked to me when he described the girl as blonde, skinny, and whorish. I'm blonde, a trait I get from a grandmother or something, and my mother sees that girl in me… I'd never realized. Maybe that's why she hates me so much? I turn to my small mirror hung up on the wall to see myself. I grab my brush to untangle my hair before settling down. I took a moment to stare at myself. I had high and slightly pronounced cheekbones that became more obvious as I lost my baby fat. My eyes were a light brown tinged with green flecks, my lips were thin on top and thicker on the bottom. My face was covered in freckles from playing for hours in the sun. The blonde hair I'd mentioned before was a tad past my shoulders, since I had been cut recently. There was a scar, just above my right brow from my mother's perfectly manicured nails. I had tried to turn away that day…
I ran the brush through my hair, untangling it easily. I sat the brush down and went to turn on the radio. Before I could do anything, though, I heard my mother announce the party was over. I rolled my eyes. "Sorry everyone, but it's getting late," she explains, "Don needs his beauty sleep." I heard some chuckles, then some people saying bye.
I had sat down on my bed, looking out my window that looked over the driveway. As the last car pulled out, I heard my mother saying goodbye from the porch. I lied down, shoving my face into a teddy bear I call Dunovere. I was tired, which was unusual, since I'm one for staying up late. All the sudden my door was opened and slammed against the wall. I sat up quickly and saw my mother staring down at me lividly. "You're not doing your homework!" she accuses, it's obvious she knew I had lied. "Yes, Mother. I finished it a while ago." It wasn't a complete lie. "A while" could mean a few minutes—or hours.
"I don't believe you. I think you lied. Now I'm sure Don's friends and half the family think I have no control over my children!" my mother's voice keeps rising, "You might've ruined my reputation! You might've caused Don's friends to think he has a weird family! Now he won't be able to-" I had shut her out by then. She had already started rambling, and if I let her vent and take her anger out, she would soon stop. She'd seen I had zoned out and her anger rose. Her face grew extremely red, "Why won't you pay attention?!" She slaps me across the face quite hard. I just stared away where the force of her hit had taken my head. "Look at me!" I glared at her. If I spoke back, I would make it worse. I stood up straight. "You're such a disappointment! Why can't you be like Jared or Don! They work so hard! You sit around doing nothing for this family!"
I kept staring, hoping it would be over soon. My mother paces back and forth, gives me a hard look and storms out, slamming the door closed. I sigh. I softly rubbed my reddened cheek and stood up to turn the ceiling light off. In the darkness I fell onto my bed, and hid under the covers like I was hiding from a nightmare. I hugged myself until I fell into a blissful sleep.