I really should know better by now. But I never learn my lesson do I?
Now I'm bleeding and bruised, lying in my bed. Sweat and hair, wild and clinging to my face uncomfortably. My clothes damp and itching at my skin like thousands of hungry bugs devouring my flesh as I rot here.
I grew too reckless. I let myself go. I can only blame myself now. I can only ever blame myself. Why am I like this? Why can't I be better? Why can't I be normal?
Normal…normal…nothing in this fucking town is normal. Not me, not father, not Philip or my sisters. Not the teachers, or the students. Not Sally Face or his freak show friends. No one is normal.
What even is 'normal'? A happy family with a white picket fence? Tolerance? A life well lived? What is 'living well'?
I'm making myself sick. I sigh heavily and turn onto my side, groaning lightly as my bruises scream at me in protest. I let my eyes grow heavy as they close and envelop me in a calm darkness.
Mom? What? Where am I? No..no why am I here again.. I don't want to be here again..Mary? Where's Mary? She's crying in her crib upstairs. Madeleine is at the top of the steps, I should go up there and make sure she doesn't hurt herself.
Before I know it, the door is being swung open as a man in a dog mask and deep purple robes barges his way into the living room. Planting himself firmly in a wide stance before aiming a shotgun at my mother.
A loud bang rings out through the house as my head swims in the silence and adrenaline. Soon enough, I realize what had happened…
Mom…?
where mom's long golden locks once stood there's now a gaping hole and red…red…everything red…
Her blood. Her brains. I watched as her shoulders rose and fell for the last times, her body stood like she was trying to reject the reality of her situation. After seconds that felt never ending her Body finally collapsed.
A heartbreaking thud as she now lay deceased on our kitchen floor, her blood pooling around her corpse—staining her clothes and staining my memories for years to come.
Ughhhh…
I will my eyes to open, the bright, dreary gray sky welcomes my awakening. I sit up, slowly letting the aches and pains take root once more before getting out of bed to get dressed for school.
I lazily tuck my thin blanket into a more appropriate appearance before returning my attention to a fresh set of clothes. Opening my closet doors gently I glance over the few choices I have before settling on a washed out blue bible camp shirt that was two sizes too big, and a muddy gray pair of wrangler shorts.
Closing my closet and turning to my wardrobe, I open the first drawer and pull out a clean set of underwear and socks. Heading out of my room and down the hall, I enter the bathroom.
I begin to strip last night's bloodied clothes off and set them in the sink to be dealt with later. Looking up at myself through the old and cracked mirror I grimace at the horrendous sight of myself. Cuts and bruises, old and new. Scars speckled around an olive umber husk, snickering and taunting me as a crude reminder of the life I lead.
Letting my mind's troubling remarks go I reach for the knob to the shower, turning the water on and waiting for it to run hot. After a few moments, I step into the clouds of steam, hissing as the water thunders down my battered back in a pain-filled rhythm.
Slowly but surely, I cleanse myself of the sins of yesterday, and step into today with a blank slate. Well, as blank as a body like mine can be. I set my damp towel on top of my dirty clothes in the sink, and put on the outfit I picked for today. After getting the last garment on I grab what's in the sink and carry it with me, dumping it in the hamper in the hallway.
Making my way further down the hall, I gently knock on my sisters' room and wake them up-if they weren't ready for school by the time father woke up he'd have my head.
"Mary! Maddie! It's time to get dressed for school!" I lightly call out to them from behind their door. After hearing them both start getting out of bed, I head downstairs to get started on breakfast for the girls.
I rarely eat, father says I don’t wear weight well, and most food feels like poison in my mouth anyways. Looking around the cabinets, I settle on a simple oatmeal, getting out a pot and setting it on the stove to come to temp.
As I'm wrapping up preparing the oatmeal, I hear Madeleine talking to Mary as they come down the steps and into the kitchen. Turning off the stove, I dish out their breakfasts then I head over to the dining table and set their food in front of them.
"Oatmeal again?" Maddie whines softly, "I know, I know," I respond, "But I still need to get more groceries, and you know how father is about money." I say that last part in a hushed tone, leaning closer to Maddie so she can hear me.
"Hmm, it's okay…" she sighs gently before picking up her spoon and starting to eat. "Hey," I stand straight, pointing at her before continuing "Speaking of groceries, why don't you two write down a few things you might like for us to pick up, okay? I can't promise I'll be able to get anything, but it doesn't hurt to try."
Instantly, I see both the girls eyes light up as Madeleine reaches across the table to pick up the notepad we use for lists and chores before turning to Mary as the two start discussing what they'd like to ask for. I leave them to it and turn my attention back to the kitchen, putting away the food and taking care of the dishes.
Turning from the now cleaned counter tops, I make my way over to sit with my sisters. "So, what d'ya have written down so far you two?" The girls turn to me before answering my question. "Well," Mary starts, her voice as timid as usual, "not much…just some better cereal and maybe some tea or juice-we're almost out of sugar too, so we put it on there…" As she spoke Maddie slid the notepad over to me so I could read their suggestions.
"Mm, thank you for reminding me about that Mary," my eyes gloss over the page, reading off a few sugary cereal names and noting that sugar had been underlined, repeatedly. "Is there anything else either of you want?" The girls look at each other for a moment, seemingly speaking through their eyes. "Nope! I think that's it Travy!" Maddie says finally, handing me the pen she used.
"Alright then, I'll see what I can do." Standing, I took the notepad and made a separating line under their list before getting started on what we still needed underneath it.
It feels like I've been here for ages, and it's only third period, I haven't even seen Phil in the halls today. Worse yet, that Sally Face and his friends have been even more obnoxious than usual.
Usually, they're easy enough to ignore for the most part, but today, I swear it's like it's a damn holiday to them. They've been basically shouting at each other in the halls and all of them have dressed up more than they usually do—which is saying something considering what they usually wear.
But God, Sally specifically is so out there! He wears skirts and girly tights like no one else has to see him like that! Like the world is just going to bend around him to comfort his ego! God, he's so annoying all the time.
Right now he's sitting two rows behind me in a pearlescent butter yellow skirt with embroidered flowers that barely reaches his knees. If that wasn't enough, he added stripey black and white tights with his dumbass blue high tops, the ones he always wears. He's finished the outfit with a soft gray oversized sweater, a chunky faux pearl necklace, and a group of other necklaces.
His pigtails are lower set today then they usually are too. God he just, he riles me up so badly sometimes I just want to beat him to a pulp. I need to say something to him today so he knows at least SOMEONE will hold him accountable for his actions.
Then again…I did apologize to him a while ago, I guess I've kind of been trying to really ignore them as of late. But how can I ignore them if they're gonna be so Goddamn in your face about being themselves?…Sal had said something really weird that day too, he said he thought I was a 'good person'…what does that even mean?
Does someone who punches others for the way they look sound like a 'good person'? Is being overly anal about morals what makes a good person? Is playing ignorant being a good person?
Whatever way I try to look at it, I can't see myself being a 'good person'. I'm aggressive, I'm reclusive, I'm cowardly. I'm nothing like Sal Fisher. He has friends that like him, teachers call him a prodigy, his parents love him.
It's ridiculous! He doesn't know me at all! Who the Hell does he think he fucking is? We never talk or even really interact outside of insults and punches, what could he possibly know about me that I don't…
My heart leaps into my throat as the bell cuts my train of thought off. Making my final decision to confront Sally about his change of pattern, I snatch my bag off the floor and rush to wait for Sally by his locker.
By the time I get there his friends are waiting for him. They glare at me. Understandably. But I'm not here for them.
I stand a foot or two away from the group as I idle while Sal seemingly takes his sweet time to get here. Finally, I can see Sally sauntering down the hall towards us. He greets me with curious eyes and a soft hand wave.
"What's up Traaaaaavis? Did you need something?
"What's up is that you're dressed up more than usual and you've been yelling in the halls all morning, is today special or something? What's up with you guys today?"
I barely manage to get through my sentence without making a rude comment, but at least I'm trying?
"Oh, uhh" Sal tilts his head to indicate confusion at my question "Well, uh me and my friends are having a party by Lake Wendigo tonight, to celebrate us all keeping our grades decent this year…would you like to come?"
I'm taken aback by his question for a moment before panicking and reverting back to my default fight response. "Fuck no Sally Face! The Hell makes you think I'd want to hang out with you or your friends?!"
Sal steps back a bit when I raise my voice, holding his hands up defensively to show surrender. "Whoa man, I was just offering, I thought we were on okay terms now…?"
I stiffen before turning sharply to run down the hall, ducking into the cafeteria. Catching my breath by the doors I scan the room. I spot a familiar blue mullet belonging to the only person I wanted to see right now, Philip. Walking over to our table I take my spot next to him as he gives me a warm smile.
"What's up Trav?" he asks, mouth full. "I embarrassed myself in front of Sally Face…Again." I explain, face buried in my hands.
"Mmmm, did you two have another heart to heart or something?" His thicker accent curls around his words like an overbearing hug.
"No! I just, have you seen him today? He's so dressed up! So I asked him about it…"
"And? What did he say?"
"He said it was for a get together by the lake to celebrate grades or something. Then, he asked if I wanted to come! Like, is he crazy?! Does he want to get me killed? His friends HATE me!"
Phil's eyes lit up, "Dude! You got invited to something?! That's a big deal man, maybe I could come with you?"
I shake my head dismissively, "Nonononono, I turned him down, hard. He and his friends are not going to expect to see us, nor would they be happy about it."
Phil thought for a moment before looking over his shoulder towards where Sally and his friends were sitting. Without warning, and before I could stop him, he's standing up telling me he'll deal with it, walking over to their table and taking a seat next to Sal.
What the Hell is he doing?! He's gonna get us BOTH killed! How can he just waltz over there like they wouldn't gun him down if they could? My mind races so fast I don't even notice when Phil sits back down next to me until he's snapping his fingers in front of my face.
"Trav! Good news, we're allowed to join the party tonight. Bad news, we've got to bring something, it's uhh sorta like, oh what are they called, a uh a potluck! there we go, a potluck by the lake." Phil explains excitedly as I'm still mulling over the thought of having to be around Sal and his Friends for an extended amount of time.
At this point, everything turns really blurry for me, I've never handled stress well, and if I'm not yelling—I'm blocking out anything that's going on around me. Before I know it, it's the end of the day and I'm walking with Phil to his house as he continues chattering on about the party.
"Sooo I'm thinking we bring like, a uh something sweet, or do you think everyone's gonna bring something sweet? Trav?" Phil has to grab my backpack's handle to stop me from walking into the road, simultaneously snapping me out of my trance."What is up with you today dude? I mean, I've seen you get like this but not this bad."
I take in my surroundings for a moment, we're just down the street from his house now, jeez I really have got to stop spacing out so much…Shaking my head I answer Phil's question "Uhh there's a chance that may be the case, but knowing how many friend Sal has, it shouldn't be a problem. Do you want to do those shitty frosted cookies or like, two boxes of donuts?"
Phil slouches a little before admitting he didn't get that far into his plan. "My mind is still hung up on our outfits if I'm being honest." We cross the street as I give some thought to the idea, realizing I myself hadn't really been thinking too hard about it either.
"Uhhh do you want to match or something? That's kind of gay but I can't really think of anything else…" I asked itching at a few scars under my sleeve. "DUUUUUDE THAT WOULD BE SO AWESOME!! We need to match Trav!" Running up his steps, he swings open the front door, dashing into the living room and then down into the basement, leaving the front door to be my issue.
Trudging up the steps I'm greeted by Mr.Salovick sitting on the couch reading a novel. He looks up at me and smiles "Good evening Travis,I'm assuming you and Phil are headed to the basement again?"
Closing the door behind myself I greet the old man with a smile. "Yeeeep, uh me and Phil are actually gonna be going out tonight to a small party by Lake Wendigo if that's okay?"
He sighs slightly before muttering "At least he's getting out of the house—Uh sure! That sounds fine, just be safe and don't stay out too late alright?"
"Alright Sergeant, thank you for letting us do this" I wave to him as I walking towards the basement door. Tossing my bag off my shoulders and down next to where Phil's discarded his own on the concrete floor of the basement. Just like the bags, I join Phil in the basement, he's rummaging through our large shared closet.
"What are you doing dude?" I jog up behind him to glance over his shoulder.
"I'm looking for our outfits man! I'm thinking tanks and shorts, maybe some jewelry." He rambles while carelessly throwing around clothes as if cleaning all of it up after won't take energy that could be better spent.
"What? Tank tops and shorts? We're gonna freeze if we wear that!" To be fair, I've worn less in colder temperatures but still…I'd like to not be shaking violently in front of people who're looking for any reason to get back at me for my previous transgressions.
"No we won't, if you're that worried about it we could wear cardigans or something over them?"
"Ughh, we'll look like old ladies if we wear cardigans dude." Phil spares me a glare over his shoulder at my whining.
"You could wear one of my jackets if you really want to, but if you're soooo worried about us 'looking gay' then I'd suggest not wearing a jacket that's clearly not yours."
I groan and drag my feet over to the couch to plop myself down, giving up on not freezing tonight. "That's what I thought." Phil quips.
Before long, Phil's cobbled together two somewhat decent outfits for us to match in. For him, an off white wife beater with light blue shorts. For me, he picked out this women's spaghetti top with a floral design speckled over a white background and short shorts with fraying edges.
What. The. Fuck.
"Are you kidding me Phil?" He must be, not only will I look like a total chick in this damn outfit, I'll be freezing my dick off faster than I could even think about stepping out of the house!
"Whaaat? It would look cute! You and I both know you wear this sort of stuff better than the black Adam Sandler get-up you've got going on right now!"
"Yeah, no. I'm not wearing that in front of Sal or his friends. They're literally girls clothes."
"If you'd quit bitching I'd find it easier to believe you didn't belong in them."
I glare at Phil before begrudgingly surrendering to the fact that I know I'll never win this battle. Standing swiftly and snatching my outfit from him, I storm off upstairs to get changed.
Unpinning my hair, letting it fall down to meet my shoulders, I change into the clothes and stare at myself in the mirror. I hate that I can see what Phil meant. I do wear women's clothes a lot better.
But my scars are on full display, what was he even thinking…I mean, maybe I could pass them off as manly? Men have cool scars right? They're a manly thing to have, right?
Huffing as I make my way back down into the basement, Phil greets me with a smug 'I told you so' expression. "Would you look at that, you look great! Just like I said you would."
Rolling my eyes, I let him have this. "Yeah yeah, 'Mother knows best' whatever…" I grumble. Lightly.
Phil grins widely before grabbing my wrist to drag me off to the jewelry corner to doll us up. After long deliberation, he settles on smokey eyes and simple silver necklaces. Now, we're ready to leave for the store.
"I still can't decide what to bring!"
"Well I had already suggested those sugar cookies or donuts because I knew you'd have a hard time deciding."
"But no one likes those bumass frosted cookies, and donuts are most likely already going to be there!"
"Fine! then what about…uhm…" I look around trying to think, but ultimately draw a blank.
"Mmmmnn what if we did one of those party platters of several different cookies that way they can't complain?"
"That could work." Finally, we gather two platters, pay, and leave for the party.
Approaching the hill that oversaw Lake Wendigo, I start to really resent Phil for managing to get us into this party…And my resentment is proven justified as we walk into the festivities…Every single person there seemed to almost sense that we weren't meant to be there, their conversations quieting, their attention focusing in on our presence.