Lucy stared at the ceiling. More accurately, she stared at where the
ceiling would have been, had she been able to see. Someone had once said,
"When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares into you." Or something
like that. Over the past half-year, she'd done her best to drive the
thoughts like that out of her head. Thoughts like that could be dangerous,
now. Because thoughts like that made you discontent with your life.
And Lucy wasn't supposed to be discontent.
She had a boyfriend. Admittedly, the boyfriend lived in Buffalo, but still, he was a boyfriend. That was all she was supposed to want. But Lucy had wanted more, much more. Lucy had wanted the world--and she could have gotten it. But by trying hard enough, she could forget that fact during the daylight. During the daylight, yes, but at night...at night everything she'd lost came back to haunt her.
Lucy crept towards the bathroom, moving as quietly as she had learned how after many nights of sleeplessness. She held her breath. The house that was never quiet didn't move at all, only rhythmic breathing betrayed the bodies living behind the close doors. Looking in the mirror, Lucy caught her own eye. As she looked into the eyes of the person she had neglected so long, tears began to roll down her cheeks.
All the sudden, the memories she had created as the person she had become to protect her heart seemed to flash through the mirror. Losing her temper to the airport security. Wearing horrible clothes to a memorial service. Bowing to her mothers will. Giving up all her freedom and personality to move back home. Losing all her dreams. Joining herself to Mary at the hip so her Mother wouldn't get mad. Mary could do no wrong, despite all the trouble she'd gotten into. (Even through her tears, Lucy noticed how she had phrased that thought. Not Mom, but her Mother.) But Lucy--she who had always tried her hardest to be good--she got into trouble left and right. So, bit by bit, she'd relinquished her personality, her goals, her dreams.
The tears came faster now, as Lucy mourned not only who she had been, but every hope of the woman she had wanted to become.
That thought stopped Lucy in her tracks. 'I don't want to give her up. I want to grow up. I can never grow up here.' She stopped weeping. There was still no one around. Her crying had woken no one. Bitterly, Lucy bared her teeth in what could only loosely be called a smile. 'They don't even wake up to see why I'm crying,' she thought. 'They cut their ties to me so loosely. Fine. From this moment on, I reclaim my life. Even if I can only do it in the still of the night.'
Lucy dried her tears and left the bathroom. She hesitated on the way back to her room. Back to where Mary had lately been, and where Ruthie was trying to leave. There was nothing to hold her there, nothing at all.
Lucy turned on her heel and went down to the kitchen. All of the sudden, she knew what she would do. The other times she woken from dreams she tried so hard to pretend she couldn't hear, she'd done small things, written poetry, read the books she couldn't give up…never before had she tried to make a bid for freedom. But Lucy knew something now. 'They can only keep me down with my consent', she thought. 'I know longer give my consent. I'll show them what I can do'.
This time, when her lips pulled back, her expression looked much more like a smile. But it was not a pleasant smile. Her heart of hearts wouldn't be crushed anymore, and perhaps, Lucy thought to herself, it'll grow the stronger because of it. And I know that no matter the danger I'll never be pleasant again.
And Lucy wasn't supposed to be discontent.
She had a boyfriend. Admittedly, the boyfriend lived in Buffalo, but still, he was a boyfriend. That was all she was supposed to want. But Lucy had wanted more, much more. Lucy had wanted the world--and she could have gotten it. But by trying hard enough, she could forget that fact during the daylight. During the daylight, yes, but at night...at night everything she'd lost came back to haunt her.
Lucy crept towards the bathroom, moving as quietly as she had learned how after many nights of sleeplessness. She held her breath. The house that was never quiet didn't move at all, only rhythmic breathing betrayed the bodies living behind the close doors. Looking in the mirror, Lucy caught her own eye. As she looked into the eyes of the person she had neglected so long, tears began to roll down her cheeks.
All the sudden, the memories she had created as the person she had become to protect her heart seemed to flash through the mirror. Losing her temper to the airport security. Wearing horrible clothes to a memorial service. Bowing to her mothers will. Giving up all her freedom and personality to move back home. Losing all her dreams. Joining herself to Mary at the hip so her Mother wouldn't get mad. Mary could do no wrong, despite all the trouble she'd gotten into. (Even through her tears, Lucy noticed how she had phrased that thought. Not Mom, but her Mother.) But Lucy--she who had always tried her hardest to be good--she got into trouble left and right. So, bit by bit, she'd relinquished her personality, her goals, her dreams.
The tears came faster now, as Lucy mourned not only who she had been, but every hope of the woman she had wanted to become.
That thought stopped Lucy in her tracks. 'I don't want to give her up. I want to grow up. I can never grow up here.' She stopped weeping. There was still no one around. Her crying had woken no one. Bitterly, Lucy bared her teeth in what could only loosely be called a smile. 'They don't even wake up to see why I'm crying,' she thought. 'They cut their ties to me so loosely. Fine. From this moment on, I reclaim my life. Even if I can only do it in the still of the night.'
Lucy dried her tears and left the bathroom. She hesitated on the way back to her room. Back to where Mary had lately been, and where Ruthie was trying to leave. There was nothing to hold her there, nothing at all.
Lucy turned on her heel and went down to the kitchen. All of the sudden, she knew what she would do. The other times she woken from dreams she tried so hard to pretend she couldn't hear, she'd done small things, written poetry, read the books she couldn't give up…never before had she tried to make a bid for freedom. But Lucy knew something now. 'They can only keep me down with my consent', she thought. 'I know longer give my consent. I'll show them what I can do'.
This time, when her lips pulled back, her expression looked much more like a smile. But it was not a pleasant smile. Her heart of hearts wouldn't be crushed anymore, and perhaps, Lucy thought to herself, it'll grow the stronger because of it. And I know that no matter the danger I'll never be pleasant again.