Blindfolded

Ten

When I finally stumbled out of my room, rubbing the sleep away and pulling on my favorite pair of socks, the house was silent and empty. Did I panic? A little. Did I run back to my room? Yes. Did I cry? A lot.

Not because I was scared my father had (once again) left me, but because the awful pain of knowing she was gone came back. Sure, I had learned some things that may have made me think differently about my mother, but that doesn't mean that I can just... get over the fact that she's dead. And I'm afraid to just deny it too. I might go insane or something if I do that.

She didn't get the chance to see my sixteenth birthday... she wouldn't have to deal with me driving around town, worrying about homecoming this year... She wouldn't have to worry about prom either. Lucky her.

But what a way to spend your 'Sweet Sixteen'.

xxxx

Jennifer tried for the second time to leave her room, red eyed and sniffling. The house was still empty, but at least she was expecting it this time. She walked around the house for a bit, her fingers of her right hand against the wall as she walked. She could feel everything that had happened, the emotions that were left there.

It didn't help her mood much, but she didn't start crying again, which was a plus for her.

After walking through the entire house, she looped back and stopped outside the one room she hadn't stepped foot in more than four times in her life. It was an extra room that her mother had used for painting or to just hide away.

She stood outside the door to that room for a long time, before grabbing the door knob and turning it. The static she felt run up her arm should have been a warning not to open the door, but she didn't realize it until she had pushed the door open and the transparent picture slipped over her eyes again.

Jennifer stood rooted to the spot,listening to the music from her mother's radio as she watched her paint. What ever she was painting, she couldn't see. The easel was turned so it was facing the left wall of the room, if you were standing in the doorway that is.

She seemed to be absorbed in it though. It took Jennifer awhile to gather the will to walk towards her, to steal a peek at the picture. Her stomach twisted. For some reason the picture, despite it's beauty, made her feel sick.

She watched as her mother added tiny details to the picture, a man with angel wings and a woman with a mass of dark hair holding each other, against a gray background. They weren't looking at the artist and her daughter, rather, the woman's face was hidden, and the man's gaze was focused on the top of the woman's head. All the viewers were granted with was a view of the man's profile, his wings, which seemed to be bloody now that Jennifer thought about it, and a woman's messy hair.

Her mother never looked up and when she reached for a different brush, she never came in contact with Jennifer's arm, or any other part of her for that matter. Jennifer shivered. She'd have to get used to the fact that not everything she'd see would talk to, or notice her.

Jennifer glanced back at the door, which was closed, and felt as if she were seeing something she wasn't supposed to be seeing. She was about to try and leave when the door opened. She watched in confusion as her father stood in the doorway, watching her mother, who at this point had stopped painting.

"Alice..." Ronnie said, his voice stern. "You can't hide in here forever."

"I'm not hiding Ron," Alice said cooly, picking up her paintbrush again. "I'm simply enjoying some time to myself."

"Time to yourself, huh?"

Jennifer watched with a sort of fascination as her father walked in the room, making a bee line for her mother and her painting. Again, Alice stopped, but her eyes were focused on the painting and the painting alone.

And Jennifer watched as Ronnie, glaring at the picture, said the hushed words of, "Who is he, huh? Who is he that you'd be this obsessed with him?"

"I'm not obsessed with anyone, Ron."

"He's all I ever see Alice! He's everywhere! In every painting, in every sketch. You write about him too. You never mention his name but I know they're the same."

"You shouldn't be going through my things."

"Alice... you're going to destroy this family, the only family that that little girl's had-" Jennifer watched as he pointed in the direction across the hall. Her room. "For some man that you're chasin' after? You're just going to keep leading me on like this? I don't know if you realized it Alice, but it ain't the best feelin' in the world knowin' the woman you married ain't interested in you."

"I never said I wasn't interested in you."

"You don't have to Alice. You've never had to say a damn word. You can tell by the way you act around me, the way you look at me... you don't care. As far as you're concerned, I'm just here so you can adopt a child, is that it?"

"Ron-"

"Just tell me who he is. A name."

"No. Ron, you're being ridiculous."

"Alice, you look at that man with more love than you could ever have for me in your entire life. I'm not being ridiculous. You're being ridiculous for dragging this out. Is he at least real Alice? At least let me know I'm not losin' you to some painting."

"He's real..."

"Then why didn't you marry him? If it's what you wanted, why didn't you?"

"I couldn't. I just... Ron, I do like you-"

"Yeah, you like me fine and well. You like me as much as you did Soda, right? You did the same thing to him, didn't you? Lead him along like this?"

"I didn't lead him along!"

"That's bullshit Alice and you know it! You must've realized it at some point, what you were doin'. You're aware of what's goin' on, I know that. But denying everything now is a waste of time. What if Jennifer catches on, huh? She's not stupid Alice, she'll figure out that something isn't right. She'll start asking questions. And what are you gonna tell her then, huh? That you're in love with some other man? That her father doesn't mean a God damn thing to you? Who is the lucky bastard, huh?"

Alice gazed fondly at the picture. "He's my angel... and that's more than I could ever say for you. If you want me to leave you, I will, but if you really care that much about Jennifer, you'll drop this."

"Drop it?" Ronnie asked in disbelief. "You just expect me to forget it?" He yelled. Jennifer marveled at how she never heard any of this going on. She must not have been home. She watched, with a surprising calm, as Ron picked up the canvas; as her mother started yelling and as he smashed the painting against the cabinet that held every art supply Alice ever owned.

It fell quiet then, except for her father's heavy breathing. They were both staring at the ruined canvas in disbelief, until Ronnie dropped it on the floor and left the room. She listened as the front door opened and slammed shut and watched as her mother gently picked up the ruined painting and set it on a table. She looked at it sadly, her finger's touching the paint and smearing it even more.

It wasn't until then that Jennifer noticed the part that Alice had been working on, the paint turning her fingers a white-yellow. The man's hair, which caught the light and nearly blinded her. The same white-blonde that had nearly blinded her when it caught the sunlight almost a month ago.

The scene faded away and Jennifer was left alone in a dusty room of canvases and paints. She ran from the room and slammed the door shut, as if to lock the memory in there forever. As if it wouldn't follow her out and make her realize what she had been guessing all along.

Her mother had fallen in love with someone who couldn't love her back; someone that she couldn't replace. She had managed to fall in love with Dallas Winston.

xxxx

"It was her fault," Jennifer said quietly on the phone.

"What? Jennifer?"

"This whole time I've been mad at my father... and it was her fault."

" I don't know what you're talking about, hon."

"My dad... my mom... my entire fucking life..." Jennifer said. She wasn't sure why she wasn't crying. She wanted to, almost desperately, but she couldn't.

"It's Jen... I don't know, I don't have a clue what she's talkin' about yet."

Jennifer listened to the hushed voices on the other line. "She was in love with him the entire time."

"In love with who?"

"Dallas."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line except for a muffled 'What's goin' on?' and 'What'd she say? Soda?'

"What?"

"She was in love with Dallas."

"Jennifer... I don't think-"

"What, you think I'm lying? That I'm telling myself this to make myself feel better? 'Cause it's definitely helpin' my mood!"

"How do you know?"

Jennifer faltered. How could she explain that? "I read it in her journal. I found it in the extra room that she painted in and, ya know, I was curious and..." she sighed. "Look, I saw it happen okay?"

"Saw what happen?"

"I walked into her room and... it was like all those bogus psychics say, when they see the scene playing out in front of them? And she was painting and Dad came in and started going on about the man in the picture and they argued and he broke the canvas and... the man in the picture looked just like Dallas, Soda. I swear it."

"Jennifer, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not sick! I'm not like my mother! I'm perfectly fine and I saw what I saw!"

"Alright... just calm down. You're sure?"

"Soda... I've been seeing stuff like this all month. How else do you think I knew about the last time you and my mother actually spoke to each other? That someone actually told me? You were like the fuckin' plague in my house," Jennifer said flatly. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. She was like the plague here too..." Soda said quietly. "Funny how quickly your feelings for a person change, huh?"

"If you find that funny, sure," Jennifer muttered.

"Alright, I get it, you ain't in the mood for stuff like that. You gonna be okay?"

"...I dunno. Maybe."

"I could tell you a funny story."

"Uhm... are you sure it's actually funny?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," Soda said. Jennifer could hear the smile in his voice. She sighed and sat down on her bed.

"Alright. Give it a shot."

xxxx

Jennifer was still laying on her bed, listening to Soda's story with a grin on her face when Ronnie peeked in her room.

"Who're you talking too?"

Jennifer jumped and looked up at the door, her smile falling away. "Soda. He's the only one that seemed to give a shit about my birthday, thanks."

"C'mon Jen, don't be like that. Not today. Look... you wanted those driving lessons, right?"

"Yeah," Jennifer said slowly. Soda had fallen silent for the moment.

"Hurry up then. Might even let you drive somewhere for lunch."

"...Alright, just a second then. Soda? I gotta go. Remember where you left off, okay?"

"Alright. Hey, don't run anyone over."

"I won't, promise."

xxxx

'I'm an awful driver and I think Dad nearly had a heart attack about twenty times, but I didn't kill a single person or crash into anything, so I think he should be proud. Whether he drives with me again is a whole 'nother question.

'Ya know, I saw another person while I was practicing. At first, I thought I had run them over, but when Dad didn't say anything, I figured it out. What they were doing standing around in front of the car, I didn't know. And I really didn't want to either.

'Anyway, Dad drove to lunch, where all the lovely people that remembered my birthday were waiting. I begged them not to sing, but they did anyway. Such loving family and friends.'