Control is slowly slipping through my fingertips like sand. I can't take it, but no one will listen. I crouch in the corner of the next room, my ear pressed tightly against the wall. The voices cut through me like a knife, as I hear a marriage crumble.
"Damn it Vincent! Who is she?" My mother is crying, it brings tears to my own eyes. My father is stuttering. My mind is racing. Why aren't I good enough? Why is it that my father had to run off with some woman to feel happy?
"I told you, she's the receptionist at work. Nothing happened, Lily-"
His false explanation is interrupted by my mother's shrill laugh. Its emptiness frightens me.
"Save it! I can't take this anymore, Vincent! Get out!"
I hear her rough footsteps travel up the stairs, each one echoing in my ears. My father sighs heavily and walks out the door. Tomorrow he will be back. He will grovel at my mother's feet and beg for her forgiveness, just like every other day.
I exit my hiding place and open the front door.
"I'm going to school now mum!" I yell up the stairs, my voice shaking.
I walk through the school doors with my head held high. No one here knows. The never will. While on the inside I am slowly falling apart I hide behind a makeup-smeared façade.
I am what people would name a queen bee. But it doesn't feel like it. People fear me. They coil away when they take one step out of line. No one actually likes me. I have followers, but no friends.
I may be at the top at school, but I feel just as shattered as I do at home.
I am loosing control. The pain is overwhelming. My family is crumbling at the seams and I have no one to confide in.
So my anguish comes out in alternate, more sinister ways.
I approach a Goth girl who's in my class. She is my complete opposite, and if I can't control my own pain, I feel satisfaction in managing others.
"Hey Gwenny, looking crappy as always." I shoot at her, hoping no one can see the half-heartedness in my eyes.
"Thanks, Heather," she groans back lazily.
She shrugs off the chorus of "loser" and "emo" that are murmured to her from the crowd behind me and walks off, her face miserable.
I may have a crowd, but I feel just as lonely as Gwen does.
Class has started. Maths. I take a seat in the middle, with my followers stationed at my sides. I am smiling. Its falsity tears me up. I hear the blissful laughter of a surfer girl, Bridgette. She is curled up in the arms of her blonde boyfriend, flashing photos in her friend's eager faces.
"She gave birth this morning," she says as she holds a photo of a small bundle of sheets towards her listeners. "Mum's exhausted, and Dad spent the night there. I visited at like, 5 am and she's so cute!" Bridgette's photo is responded with numerous "Awws". Her happiness gnaws at me. Envy spreads through my insides.
I walk up to her, my followers puzzled.
"Shut up," I snap, venom dripping off every word.
Bridgette is shocked.
"What?" she says, her eyes starting to ignite in insult.
"I said shut up," I repeat, my voice trembling, "no one wants to hear about your stupid baby sister." I am consumed with fury. For the very first time, my insults are one hundred percent genuine.
"If you don't want to hear then why don't you block your ears?" a girl next to Bridgette called Leshawna piped up, her voice dangerous.
"Because people go to school to learn! Not gossip about how beautiful you're newborn sister is or the fact that your part of a perfect little family!" I shrieked, tears threatening to burst through. Bridgette is still staring at me, although her expression is starting to soften.
"Heather?" she says slowly. I purse my lips.
"Why don't you just go home? Go and see your amazing miracle of a sister and go get loved by your parents who would never cheat on each other!" I scream poisonously. The whole classroom is staring at me now. Thank goodness Mr. Mclean isn't here yet.
"What are you saying?" Bridgette whispers, her eyes now sympathetic and apprehensive. I slam my fist on the table.
"I'm saying that just because your family is amazing and whole doesn't mean that you have to parade it around here! Some people aren't as lucky as you and don't want to hear about your good fortune when their own family is falling apart!" I screech. I have yelled so much that I haven't noticed that tears are falling down my cheeks.
Bridgette is dumbstruck.
"Oh Heather…" she reaches out to touch my hand, but I flinch away from it as though it was a disgusting insect.
"Save it." I retort rudely. I am reminded of my mother's voice from this morning and I storm out of the room. My entourage is confused as I leave them behind. I finally break down in the privacy of the hallway, my sobs echoing off the empty walls.
I lean up against a locker, and slide down it before I was sitting on the floor.
All my control is gone.