Chapter Seven
Lindsey really wanted me to sleep with her in her room, and I would have done it, if the kid didn't insist on asking ten thousand questions at the speed of light. I didn't even feed her any type of sugar at all. I think her normal mode of operation is just a smidge above hyperactive. I don't think I was ever that energetic as a kid. Of course, I had my reasons why I couldn't be.
The good thing is that once I got Lindsey to take a shower and into bed, she fell right asleep. Apparently making her stop for a few seconds is a good way of making her pass out. That's something I'm going to have to remember.
So now it's early in the morning, and I haven't slept at all. I'm laying on the couch in the living room flipping through early Sunday morning cartoons. I haven't watched cartoons in years, and I think they've actually gotten worse. Since when did everything turn into Extreme and Turbo?
It really is unfortunate, but I can't sleep. I've spent the entire night, sitting here and waiting to figure out exactly what it is I should say to Sara when I see her next. I've been bouncing between saying absolutely nothing and saying absolutely nothing. I'm not too sure how well that's worked out thus far, and Lindsey is bound to say something to one of them. Lindsey tends to talk a whole lot. Her mouth is far ahead of her brain a lot of times.
I hear the lock in the front door turning and quickly turn off the television and pretend to be asleep. There's no reason to let the adults know I've been up all night not being able to sleep. Catherine might be the type that would want to have a long conversation about what's been troubling my mind.
"Do you think they're asleep?" I hear Sara's voice ask softly.
"Probably," Catherine's responds. "They probably wore each other out."
"They do seem to get along."
"You seem surprised by that."
Sara must have made some sort of nonverbal response or spoke really softly because I hear Catherine's voice again. "You're jealous of Lindsey."
"When I see Melinda around other people she smiles. When she turns to me she's always angry."
Now that's not true. I'm not always angry when I turn to her, and I'm pretty sure that when I threw that pizza cheese on her face I was smiling.
"Sweetheart, she just doesn't know how to respond to you," Catherine offers.
Of course I know how to respond to her. Catherine doesn't know what she's talking about.
"Well I don't know how to respond to her either."
"It's amazing how alike you two are."
"Please don't say that," Sara pleads and I'm guessing because she can't imagine us being anything alike because she doesn't want to have anything to do with me. Not that I particularly think that we're anything alike either, but she doesn't have to feel the same way.
"Did you know she's in advanced math and science classes?" Catherine asks gently.
"Really?" Sara sounds surprised. She probably thought I was just a stupid jock.
"She was tutoring her basketball team yesterday."
Okay so that little voice in my head is starting to yell at me saying that this pretending thing of being asleep is wrong. It's probably even a little more wrong that they don't seem to even know I'm on the couch able to hear their entire conversation.
"I'm up," the words escape my mouth before I give my mouth full permission to say them. I sit up on the couch so that they can see me. "I would suggest you stop the private conversation thing."
"What are you doing up so early?" Catherine asks.
"I didn't ever go to sleep," I admit slowly.
"Why couldn't you sleep?" She then asks.
I run my hand through my disheveled hair. "I got a clue last night." I stand up from the couch and walk over to them both. I kind of get a kick out of the fact that I'm taller than both of them. "You are a couple, right?"
Sara turns away from me, but Catherine doesn't. "Yes we are. Do you have a problem with that?"
"Is that why Mom and Dad kicked you out of the house?" I ask Sara completely ignoring Catherine's question. I don't even know why she's still standing here looking ready for a fight. My fight has never been with her. I hardly even know her.
Sara lifts her head up to look at me, but quickly looks away again. "That was part of it."
"Yeah," I snort. "They hated queers."
"Melinda," Catherine tone is chastising. I'll just continue ignoring her.
"They told me I should hate your kind, gave me all kinds of reasons why."
"Melinda," Catherine tries again, but I'm already too far gone.
"They told me I better be happy that I wasn't of your flesh because then I had less of a chance of being a dyke just like you." Catherine tries to grab my arm but I step out of her reach. "I must be a stupid as they said I was, because I couldn't figure it out. I just thought that them saying you were queer was just another one of their lies they'd use to fuck with my head."
"Stop it." Sara finally raises her eyes and looks straight at me.
"I just want to know how much it is you did that made them want to completely mess me up. How much of what they did to me was actually payback to you?"
Sara keeps her eyes glued to mine. "I don't know."
"I didn't really think you would." I turn away from her and walk to the front door. I really need to get out of here. It just really hurts to be in Sara's presence.
"Melinda, stop walking away." Sara calls to my back.
My hand is on the doorknob. I turn to face her but keep my hand in place. "I'm just following the Sidle tradition." I swing open the door and quickly walk through it, closing it firmly behind me. I don't really know where I am and I don't have money on me, but I can't walk back inside either. It would mess up my big exit.
I choose a direction and decide to start running that way. I know that Sara or Catherine is bound to come after me, but I don't have to make finding me very easy. I've been an athlete for a long time; I can run for a while without stopping.
Back home when I couldn't stand being alone with the parents anymore, I'd go out jogging. I'd run around for hours. It didn't make me feel better at all. I always ended up at the same place I started. I returned, weaker, and more tired. I never came back stronger.
It's not my intent to really come back stronger this time either. I just want to get away. If I could, I'd run all the way out of this city, this state, this family, and I'd never look back. Unfortunately, the big government types say I can't safely do that until I'm eighteen.
Two years. That's a pretty good mantra. I have to hold out for two more years. After that, I don't have to deal with any of this ever again. I might even be able to come across as something other than a total bitch.
It's not like I don't see how I act or what I say to Sara. I see it. I see it and I don't know how to stop it. The worst part of that is that I sound like our parents.
This thought stops me right in my tracks. It's like a very cold shower. I promised myself that I'd never be anything like them. I promised myself that I wouldn't make people feel so bad. I never want to be like them.
They were angry bastards. I don't even understand why they were angry half the time. I could do everything perfectly and they'd still be angry. Nothing was good enough for them. Mom couldn't even leave me peace in her death. She had to add on the extra guilt of making me pull the plug.
I drop to my knees on the cement. I'm in the middle of some street. Maybe a car will come and run me over. That seems like kind of a good idea right now. I wouldn't have to worry about getting over my memories. I wouldn't have to worry about getting past everything that's happened to me. It would just stop.
Sara wouldn't even have to worry about telling me her secrets anymore. She could keep them to herself. Everything that happened between her and the parents could just stay with her. I wouldn't be around needing explanations. I don't think dead, I would really care about this whole abandonment issue I've got going on.
If reincarnation is real, I could come back to a better set of parents. I could have a life that didn't suck so much. Then again, I could always come back as the type of person who raised my parents. That's a really depressing thought.
Oh hey, there's a car coming. So if I don't survive getting hit, then I'm not going to have to deal with anything. If the car brakes then I'll get up and try and figure something out. There's nothing quite like leaving things up to fate.
My eyes are staring down the headlights and they're almost blinding me. Closing my eyes would make me a chicken. I'm staring this thing right down.
The car brakes well in front of me. They have enough room to speed up a little and brake before they even have a chance of hitting me. I probably should have chosen a busier street.
The driver's side door opens, but I don't look up to see who the driver is. It doesn't really matter. Fate's told me I've got to figure something out. I knew there was a reason I don't like the Fates or ancient Greek mythology for that matter.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Fate even saw fit that it would be Sara that saw me kneeling in the middle of the street. "I'm interested in street building," I laugh at the irony of my life and stand up. "What did it look like I was doing?"
"Do you think this is a joke?" Sara is standing right in front of me now. She looks upset. She even looks like she's crying or at least was crying.
My lack of sleep must be making me hallucinate. "Funny?" I shake my head. "Not really. I think it's an act of desperation."
Sara caresses my cheek with the palm of her hand. It seems like her body has deflated somehow. "I'm so sorry."
"You shouldn't be. You've been right about a lot of things. I was never your responsibility. They kicked you out of the house. I'm surprised they even allowed me to get your birthday and Christmas cards." I step away from her. "I should tell you I'm sorry. I haven't been fair to you."
Sara stares at me for a very long time. "I really think we need to talk."
Well those are doomsday words if I ever heard any. I nod and make my way to the vehicle that didn't run over me. I get in the passenger side and put on my seatbelt. Sara's in the car moments after me. She puts the car in drive and we're moving our way out of wherever it is I managed to run to.
We don't talk.
