I sad on the chair staring out the window. Dad was talking to the doctor, something about increasing the dosage of my medication. I winced, I hate the medicine.
"Poison," I whisper to the window. No one listens anyway. I decided to focus on the light pushing it's way through the cracks. Bending, shifting, changing, like water through holes in a dam.
"Bending, all things bend," my fingers traced the cracks. "Window bending light, what will you show me?"
Before the window would answer, I was being pulled away. I waved goodbye to the doctor who signed Dad's poisonous paper. A shadow moved behind her. I frowned. "Bad shadow, Dad."
I felt his grip tighten on my arm. "Ignore it, Sweetheart. The medicine will make it better."
We exited the building and I sighed in relief. I like outside, there is more color. We walked to the pharmacy and I skipped, holding Dads' hand. I waved to the funny people, one with blue skin waved back. I giggled and wanted to go over and say "Hi," but Dad pulled me back. He never wants me to make friends. I pouted a bit to show him I was upset, then decided to focus on the colors.
The colors made my friend from group counseling happy. She said she would find colors and give them a number, this gave her order in her life. I didn't really want order, but I did want colors. Too much order, orderly buildings with orderly people, tidy clothes and sensible shoes. Boring. I used to sneak out to the orderly parts of town. Buildings sagged in, people laughed for no reason, even the smell was unorderly. But then I got in trouble and Dad put bars in my windows.
The bars didn't block the colors from coming through. I began to sing the theme song from Firefly: "I don't care, I'm still free, you can't take the sky from me." Some ladies smiled as I passed. One had a tail. I giggled again.
"Honey, don't stare. It's rude." Dad chided.
"I don't mind," the lady smiled, "Your daughter is very special." Her tail was red. Red is 3. Her shoes are black, 1. I hate black. They were moving away now.
At the pharmacist, they gave me a lollypop. Dad says I'm too old for sweets, but I don't care. He gets the medicine and we walk back to our apartment. I see Madame Dorthea. I run up and give her a hug. She smells terrible and her body feels like fire, but she tells me that I'm not crazy, so I like her. Her dress is yellow, 16.
Clary comes down the stairs with Simon.
"Hi Leah!" I like Simon, he plays video games with me. Clary only nods, I think I make her uncomfortable.
I look at Clary and tilt my head as I study her. Something is bothering her, something scares her. "It won't go away," I tell her, "But you'll understand it soon enough."
She pales. "Sorry," Dad butted in, "We're trying out a different dosage. It will take some getting used to."
Madame Dorthea calls out something about modern medicine suffocating bright young minds like mine, but her pleas fall on def ears as my dad ushers me into our apartment and makes me take my medicine. I feel weird, cut off distant. Cats is on TV and I just stare at it dumbly, letting the colors wash over me, too tired to give them numbers. Dad goes to bed and turns the TV off, he sighs as I just stare at the empty screen. He tucks a blanked around my shoulders and kisses me tonight. I hear footsteps going down the stairs outside.
I peek my head out the front door. It's Simon and Clary again, they're sneaking out. "You shouldn't go," I whisper to them, "You'll see something you don't like and they will know you know." Simon looks concerned but Clary just brushes me off.
"It's just a club." She tosses her curly hair over her shoulder and makes her way down the stairs. Everything is growing dull and gray. Medications, I thought.
"I have to follow them," I say to no one in particular, "They will need me."
I know that at clubs girls wear short skirts and tiny shirts, so I sneak to my room and sift through my clothes till I find what I need. Now properly attired, I hide a kitchen knife in my boot. I need it for my new friends... I can't seem to focus on that idea or why I need to bring a knife to meet new people.
I walk downstairs. They seem to stretch and bend and I have to hold onto the railing once or twice to keep from falling over. I remind myself to tell Dad that the stairs need to be fixed. Or maybe the medicine. Dad likes fixing the medicine.
Walking through the darkened city, I head towards the club I know Clary will go to. It's full of funny people. I like it, the lights flash in many colors and the noise is so loud, it's quiet. The bouncer with the pretty, purple eyes and long nails makes me take out my I.D, so I hand him a gift card to a frozen yogurt shop. He's very fond of yogurt and lets me though. I could have shown him my I.D., I'm 18, but it also says I'm invalid on it, so he probably wouldn't let me in.
I smile as the music swirls around me and I dance with everyone to the beat. Music is only colors and numbers that you see with your ears instead of your eyes. I look for Clary and Simon. Instead, I see a Fey with gossamer wings. I make my way towards her and she smiles at me.
"May I touch them?" I ask over the sound of the music. She laughs and nods. My hands glide over the edge of her wings. They are warm against my cold hands and feel delicate. I thank the girl and look for my new friends. I spot them in a corner.
The curly haired brunette looks like she's seducing one of the funny people. She wears a white dress covering her skin. At a club that would be strange, but she pulls it off magnificently. I want to go talk to her, but something tells me I need to wait. I sit on a booth and watch as she and her brothers slice open the Funny.
Someone screamed. "Stupid, stupid," I muttered, "now they know you know." So preoccupied with looking for my new friends that I forgot to keep an eye on the old ones. I run towards Clary.
"Shut up!" I yell, "They're just doing their job!"
Now she's shouting and calling them murderers, but they aren't around anymore and no one seems to listen to her. That sounded oddly familiar. Thankfully, the meds were wearing off by this time, so I was in more control of myself.
Simon came over to help and we dragged her out of the club to calm her down.
"Don't worry Clary, he was a bad shadow. It's okay to kill bad shadows." This didn't seem to reassure her or Simon. After Clary calmed down, he turned to me.
"What are you even doing here? Did you follow us? Your dad's gonna be pissed!"
How could I have followed him if I had gotten there first? Seriously, Simon wasn't very bright sometimes. We all head back to the apartment complex, but Clary is still muttering about how it dissolved into the floor. Simon leaves us at the front door and I walk her back to her home. When she opens the door, her mom is asleep on the couch. She says goodnight to me and I walk back to my own home. I wasn't as lucky as Clary.
Dad stood in the living room with his fists on his hips in a sign of anger. I elected not to say anything. I don't want him to give me more meds.
His voice started soft, but got louder. "Where. The. HELL. Have you been? What do you THINK you're wearing? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?! If you had been HURT all the neighbors would have thought is was MY FAULT! DO YOU WANT THAT?! WELL DO YOU ?! YOU SELFISH CRAZY BITCH WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING THINK OF SOMEONE ELSE FOR A CHANGE! DON'T! EVER! DO THAT! AGAIN!" He ended each word of that last sentence with a slap to the face. The last one was so hard I was thrown on the floor where he began kicking me.
Become numb, I told myself. He will feel better and tomorrow he will say sorry. You love your daddy. Become numb. Don't cry.
I end up letting my mind go off somewhere else. A green meadow full of small white flowers and butterflies. When I come back, Dad had stopped hitting me and was now crying on the floor. I crawled over to him.
"Don't cry, Daddy. 'You can't take the sky from me', remember? You were scared you wouldn't have any friends if I was gone and you would be all alone. Don't cry, Dad. I'm okay."
He turned and hugged me too tight and hurt my bruised ribs, but I didn't care. Daddy still loved me. I would be okay. He smelled nice. Like dusty books and the ocean. He carried me to bed and tucked me in, short skirt and all. He said he was sorry and asked if I wanted to go to school tomorrow.
"Daddy, there isn't school tomorrow. It's Saturday tomorrow." He nodded and shut off the light. I looked out my window as a cloud rolled over the moon. I couldn't tell if it was a good omen or a bad one. I'll have to ask Madame Dorthea tomorrow if she doesn't try to strangle me again.