LJ Idol: 3 Strikes Week 13: Kintsugi
Jul. 20th, 2022 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
proceedcycloneThey were yelling. Again. Slamming doors. Flipping tables. Punching walls. When she goes to pour cereal before school, Anna pulls out a bowl and remembers how the matching one shattered as it hit the wall above the kitchen table. That toddler drawing of Santa Claus that hangs all year round? They can’t take it down or their landlord would discover the hole behind it.
Anna used to try to figure out what they were arguing about, thinking she might be able to solve the problem. She even tried to intervene once by telling them both to calm down, but she then became the target of her father’s wrath and never did it again.
He never hit Anna or her mother, which she understood was supposed to be a blessing, but they were terrified of him all the same. It seemed that there was no way to predict what would make him angry, so they’d mostly just started to avoid him. He rarely even ate dinner with them anymore.
As the shrieking continued in the next room, Anna retrieved her little sister from her room down the hall.
“Why are they angry?” her sister asked innocently.
“I don’t know, kiddo, but don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She smiled and reached for her little sister’s foot before beginning to recite “This Little Piggy.” Despite the cacophony of shouts vibrating through the walls, her little sister began to laugh.
…
“Pizza’s here!” Anna’s mother shouted as she closed the front door behind her with her foot. Anna and the two friends she’d selected to stay over in celebration of her birthday came running from her bedroom, whatever game they were playing quickly forgotten.
As they were devouring the pizza in ways that only growing children can do, Anna’s friend’s head swiveled around the table at their other friend, Anna, Anna’s sister, and Anna’s mother.
“Where’s your father? Isn’t he going to eat?”
“Oh, he had to take care of a few things before he came home from work,” her mother replied as she caught Anna’s eye.
“Yeah,” Anna added, “He works a lot. We’ll probably be asleep by the time he gets home. He might even leave again before we get up in the morning.”
“Oh, that sucks,” replied her friend as she took another large bite of her pizza.
“So, what are we doing after dinner, ladies?” her mother asked, changing the topic of conversation. “Watching a movie?”
Anna sensed that her friends knew they were lying, but she hoped that they thought he just didn’t like them. Or was separated from her mother. Practically anything was better than the fact that he was locked away in a prison cell for selling drugs and Anna hadn’t seen him for almost a year. If her friends knew that, her mother had warned her, they would be at risk of losing their housing voucher and her mother’s income would not cover rent, let alone food, without it.
…
Anna shut her bedroom door behind her and dropped her backpack onto the floor at her feet. Her shoulders relaxed and she took a deep breath before turning on her computer. As the modem loudly dialed the internet, she used the bathroom and sat down just in time for the first instant message to appear on her screen.
Her friends at school teased her for having friends online, often joking that she was probably talking to a 40-year-old man and not another 15-year-old girl with the same band posters hanging on her bedroom wall, but they couldn’t change her mind. The internet had allowed her to find people that understood her in a way she’d never experienced before, something that didn’t seem entirely possible in a town of 15,000 people. As much as she tried to wear her differences as a coat of arms, they always felt more like Achilles’ heels and she reveled in the few hours after school when she could simply be.
…
Anna quickly retrieved the books she needed from her locker before slamming it shut and jogging toward the parking lot, where her mother was waiting for her. But when she opened the car door, she burst into tears.
“Why are you crying?” her mother asked, bewildered.
“I don’t know!” Anna wailed.
“Okay, well, get in. My lunch break is only so long, you know.”
“I–I don’t think I want to go home.”
“What are you talking about? How are you going to get home then?”
“I’ll ask someone for a ride?” Anna wasn’t completely sure her statement was accurate, but she did know that the clenching in her stomach had loosened at the thought of not having to get into the car with her mother.
“Whatever,” her mother said. “Be home for dinner.” Anna watched as her mother pulled away from the curb and turned out of the parking lot.
When Anna got home that evening–in time for dinner as promised, though she didn’t see any dinner on the table–her parents were seething.
“What the hell was that?” her father demanded.
“I–I think I need to see a therapist,” Anna stammered. She’d wandered around campus until she’d found someone she knew. When he’d asked why she was on campus so late, she’d explained how she’d felt and he’d postulated that maybe she had bipolar or some sort of anxiety disorder.
“We can’t afford that!” her mother exclaimed.
“Then what?” Anna argued, surprising herself. “What am I supposed to do? Something’s wrong with me!”
Her parents tried to argue that nothing was wrong with her, which they probably thought was the right thing to say, but it just felt meaningless and dismissive; it couldn’t change the way she felt, that sense of foreboding that seemed to live in the pit of her stomach now, and they weren’t willing to entertain the idea that she might actually need something else.
…
“But why me? I’m not like the other girls,” Anna cried.
“That’s why: you’re real; you don’t fake it.”
And that’s when Anna knew she was going to marry him someday.
…
Sometimes Anna wondered how her life would be different if things had transpired another way. But would that effect be positive or negative? There was no way to tell. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. These experiences were each a part of her, sure, but she was more than just the sum of her parts.
Anna used to try to figure out what they were arguing about, thinking she might be able to solve the problem. She even tried to intervene once by telling them both to calm down, but she then became the target of her father’s wrath and never did it again.
He never hit Anna or her mother, which she understood was supposed to be a blessing, but they were terrified of him all the same. It seemed that there was no way to predict what would make him angry, so they’d mostly just started to avoid him. He rarely even ate dinner with them anymore.
As the shrieking continued in the next room, Anna retrieved her little sister from her room down the hall.
“Why are they angry?” her sister asked innocently.
“I don’t know, kiddo, but don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She smiled and reached for her little sister’s foot before beginning to recite “This Little Piggy.” Despite the cacophony of shouts vibrating through the walls, her little sister began to laugh.
…
“Pizza’s here!” Anna’s mother shouted as she closed the front door behind her with her foot. Anna and the two friends she’d selected to stay over in celebration of her birthday came running from her bedroom, whatever game they were playing quickly forgotten.
As they were devouring the pizza in ways that only growing children can do, Anna’s friend’s head swiveled around the table at their other friend, Anna, Anna’s sister, and Anna’s mother.
“Where’s your father? Isn’t he going to eat?”
“Oh, he had to take care of a few things before he came home from work,” her mother replied as she caught Anna’s eye.
“Yeah,” Anna added, “He works a lot. We’ll probably be asleep by the time he gets home. He might even leave again before we get up in the morning.”
“Oh, that sucks,” replied her friend as she took another large bite of her pizza.
“So, what are we doing after dinner, ladies?” her mother asked, changing the topic of conversation. “Watching a movie?”
Anna sensed that her friends knew they were lying, but she hoped that they thought he just didn’t like them. Or was separated from her mother. Practically anything was better than the fact that he was locked away in a prison cell for selling drugs and Anna hadn’t seen him for almost a year. If her friends knew that, her mother had warned her, they would be at risk of losing their housing voucher and her mother’s income would not cover rent, let alone food, without it.
…
Anna shut her bedroom door behind her and dropped her backpack onto the floor at her feet. Her shoulders relaxed and she took a deep breath before turning on her computer. As the modem loudly dialed the internet, she used the bathroom and sat down just in time for the first instant message to appear on her screen.
Her friends at school teased her for having friends online, often joking that she was probably talking to a 40-year-old man and not another 15-year-old girl with the same band posters hanging on her bedroom wall, but they couldn’t change her mind. The internet had allowed her to find people that understood her in a way she’d never experienced before, something that didn’t seem entirely possible in a town of 15,000 people. As much as she tried to wear her differences as a coat of arms, they always felt more like Achilles’ heels and she reveled in the few hours after school when she could simply be.
…
Anna quickly retrieved the books she needed from her locker before slamming it shut and jogging toward the parking lot, where her mother was waiting for her. But when she opened the car door, she burst into tears.
“Why are you crying?” her mother asked, bewildered.
“I don’t know!” Anna wailed.
“Okay, well, get in. My lunch break is only so long, you know.”
“I–I don’t think I want to go home.”
“What are you talking about? How are you going to get home then?”
“I’ll ask someone for a ride?” Anna wasn’t completely sure her statement was accurate, but she did know that the clenching in her stomach had loosened at the thought of not having to get into the car with her mother.
“Whatever,” her mother said. “Be home for dinner.” Anna watched as her mother pulled away from the curb and turned out of the parking lot.
When Anna got home that evening–in time for dinner as promised, though she didn’t see any dinner on the table–her parents were seething.
“What the hell was that?” her father demanded.
“I–I think I need to see a therapist,” Anna stammered. She’d wandered around campus until she’d found someone she knew. When he’d asked why she was on campus so late, she’d explained how she’d felt and he’d postulated that maybe she had bipolar or some sort of anxiety disorder.
“We can’t afford that!” her mother exclaimed.
“Then what?” Anna argued, surprising herself. “What am I supposed to do? Something’s wrong with me!”
Her parents tried to argue that nothing was wrong with her, which they probably thought was the right thing to say, but it just felt meaningless and dismissive; it couldn’t change the way she felt, that sense of foreboding that seemed to live in the pit of her stomach now, and they weren’t willing to entertain the idea that she might actually need something else.
…
“But why me? I’m not like the other girls,” Anna cried.
“That’s why: you’re real; you don’t fake it.”
And that’s when Anna knew she was going to marry him someday.
…
Sometimes Anna wondered how her life would be different if things had transpired another way. But would that effect be positive or negative? There was no way to tell. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. These experiences were each a part of her, sure, but she was more than just the sum of her parts.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-21 02:17 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-22 07:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-22 10:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-23 12:45 am (UTC)I hope she found help.
Reading this, I really began to care about Anna. You did a great job pulling me into her life and her emotions.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-23 06:11 pm (UTC)Nice work. Peace~~~Desiree
(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-24 04:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-25 12:14 am (UTC)