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Grade
8

 

Saying that my parent’s divorce got ugly would be an understatement, but I somehow kept my ground sturdy. I have to be strong for Annabelle. Now she needs me more than ever. Moving all the way to another state that is miles, and miles away will be a bit over the top, but I’ll get over it.  Annabelle is taking the divorce plans harder than me, but after all she still thought our parents were happily in love.

She had never seen what I’ve seen. The arguments, fights, swearing, cursing, and all of the hateful language that I wouldn’t dare to repeat were all oblivion to her, but I knew, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her before all of this happened. Now we’re in my room as she lays her head on my lap, and she cries. All I could do to comfort her is hold her small pale hand in mine while I hum the words of her favorite song. A small, sappy smile formed on her lips as she noticed the humming of the familiar tune.

“I thought you didn’t like this song,” Annabelle states softly referring to the Blink-182 song that I have grown to hate over the years due to its repetition.

“I don’t, but you do, and getting a small smile from you is way more important than my beloved annoyance towards your favorite band,” I say with a chuckle.

As the days passed that melancholic night become a routine. A routine that would be repeated over, and over, and over again until both of us, and mom moved to Wisconsin. The night hangouts still continued after they moved, but the melancholic mood of the night gradually changed to a cheerful one. The ‘Irwin night hangouts’ as Annabelle says, were now the only part of the day that both of us looked forward to, and as we both became more and more lonely, we became each others only source of happiness.

“Trinity Irwin! Come downstairs now,” My mother, Amy Morgan, yelled at me. I quickly finished brushing out my hair, and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. I faced my mother and gave her my attention waiting for her to scream at me which was now something that she is doing way too often to me and Annabelle.

“I’m going to work right now, and I won’t be back until eight o’clock, so when I’m back make sure the whole house is cleaned with no exceptions, and I won’t be able to drop you and your sister off at school,” she demanded as my only reaction was to stare at her blankly like she was crazy.

“Mother,” I paused for a breath of air, “are you insane?  Annabelle and I have to be at school in fifteen minutes we can’t in any way possible clean the house and be at school on time. Heck! We can’t even be at school if you don’t drop us off because I don’t have my driver’s license yet,” I said in a desperate rushed tone. Annabelle was already in the kitchen shifting her gaze between between me and her hand looking like she wasn’t sure of what was happening.

“Trinity, if you haven’t noticed, yet I do not care. Now, go do your work, and let me go to work,”  my mother said as she walked to car, and started driving leaving me Annabelle looking at each other speechless. A tear fell down Annabelle’s cheek as a quiet sob escaped her lips. I faced Annabelle’s freckled face knowing that my concern could be easily recognized.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. Annabelle,” I said while bending down to embrace her into a hug. ”I know you’re terrified, and that you feel alone, but we have to be strong for one another. It sounds incredibly cliche, but this is the cold hard truth,” I say while rubbing my hand on her upper back.

“But Trinity, mom hasn’t been acting like a mom lately. We’re pretty much on our own. She is never home, and when she is the only thing she does is yell profanities at us, and I can’t take it anymore. She cusses us out for nothing,” she paused and took a sharp breath of air.“Nothing, and what about dad? Mom doesn’t let us speak to him so the last time we talked to him was four months ago. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even remember us anymore.”  I could only stare blankly at her. I never told her I been secretly calling dad without mom, or her, knowing .

Not telling Annabelle that I still talked to our dad really made me be ashamed of myself, but I just couldn’t risk to have mom disconnect me from dad eternally. Now the guilt was consuming me, and I know that I have to tell Annabelle because I can’t have her thinking that our dad forgot about us, or worse that he forgot about her.

“Annabelle, I have to tell you something, but I’m afraid of your reaction,”I  say cautiously as if I my words were bombs, and if I spoke too rapidly the bombs would explode.  

“Go ahead?” she said with a questioning tone in her voice. On the past few weeks I’ve noticed that she is acting more, and more shy. A change from her normal lively, bold self .

“I don’t know how to say this, but I never really stopped talking to our dad,” I say as I watch her facial expression go from confusion to anger. Her defined eyebrows were lowered. Her hands were moving furiously through her own blonde hair.

“What do you mean you never really stopped talking to our dad?” she almost yelled at me as she asked.

“I sneakily called dad without you, or mom knowing,” I say sharply, “but only because I know that if mom knew that I was secretly calling dad just to talk to him and tell him how much I miss him, she would ban me from calling him ever again.”

“Are you kidding me?” she screams at me, “You really think that I would ever let mom know that you were calling him? Do you know how selfish you are from never telling me that you could still talk to dad? Do know how many times I went to bed sobbing because I thought that our dad just simply didn’t care about us anymore? You caused me so much pain just by simply not telling me that you could still talk to dad,” she say as she walks up the stairs. Every word that came out of her mouth was just as painful as knife stabbing me right in my heart, and I really wish I was exaggerating.  

“I didn’t want to be disconnect from dad. I know that..” I begin to say, but Annabelle cuts me off.

“What about me? I’ve been having all these nightmares about dad just completely forgetting about us, and they are scaring me to death, but the worst part is that for the longest time I was feeling so defenseless, and unloved,” she took a breath of air before continuing, “but the truth is that I just being lied to, and that is worse part about this is that I thought I could count on you. I thought you there for me, but I’m alone,” she said while staring me in the eyes.

“I was trying to be strong for you. I was trying to be there for you, but I had to keep it a secret from mom, and at the moment that seemed like the best choice for us.” I said looking anywhere, but in Annabelle’s eyes because I couldn’t deal with making eye contact with her when I knew all the pain that I caused her.

“The best for us, or the best choice for you?” Annabelle spoke delicately as tears streamed down her face. She looked at me waiting for me to respond to her, but I didn't dare to let one word escape my mouth.

“You know what? I don’t even care anymore,” Annabelle said with anger in her voice. She stepped backwards into her room, and slammed the door in my face.

I took small steps that led me to my own room. I didn’t even realized that I was crying until I looked at myself in the mirror of my room. Right now I’m considered a complete mess. Not only outside because of all the crying, but on the inside too. I didn’t know one person could feel this much agony, and right now I didn’t even care about what I was feeling because what mattered was Annabelle. This wouldn’t be happening right now if I just told Annabelle that I could call our dad in the beginning.

How am I going to make things right? How am I going to make her trust me again? How am I going to show her that I’m trying to do the best for her? These questions kept running through my mind, and I couldn’t stop them from beating up my heart because I knew that I brought this upon myself. How idiotic of me to think that this was going to work out.

The memories of the scene that happened just a few moments ago kept invading my mind. I tried to ignore the memories by going to bed, and maybe stumbling upon dream, but the irony of this is that I only received nightmares.

“This is all your fault Trinity Irwin. All your fault,” my mother yelled as she shook me vigorously trying to wake me up from my slumber.

“What do you want?” I spoke with a monotone voice. I really don’t want to deal with all of this right now. I still feel ashamed of myself because of all that happened earlier.

“She’s dead. As dead as Mufasa you idiot,” she screamed not really getting the memo that at this moment I didn’t care.

“Who is dead mother?” I asked with a bored tone in my voice. Knowing my mother she is probably talking about some character in her favorite tv show.

“Your sister is dead,” She yelled once again, and my breathing hitched as I looked at her waiting for her to say that this is all a sick joke.

“She committed suicide. She is laying in her bathroom floor surrounded by pills...” she kept yelling at me, but instead of listening I'm running towards Annabelle's bathroom. My mother’s yells were now just a static background noise. Part of me still had hope this was all a prank, but as I entered the bathroom I saw Annabelle lying lifeless on the floor.

I didn’t hesitate to sob. My knees felt weak, and my heart was aching. I felt hurt as if it was an emotion. I sat down on the floor, and just stared at Annabelle while tears fell down my face, and agony consumed my emotions.

“I didn’t even apologize. I didn’t even apologize for my egotistical, selfish actions. I could’ve easily prevented all of this,” I murmured to myself as my guilt, and sadness became stronger.

“Yes, you could’ve. Just like you could’ve prevented your own parents divorce,” my mother said to me. She was looking at me like I was some kind of filthy animal that you would find on the sidewalk of a busy street.

“I just wish I could’ve brought this all back to the start because if I could I would change so many things,” I say between tears. Now for the rest of my life I have to cope with the fact that one ignorant decision, and some stupid argument brought so much tears, and my own sister’s death.

I look at Annabelle, and I say the words she needed to hear back from the start. The words that I’ve been secretly dying to say. The worlds that would’ve changed everything.

“I love you Annabelle, I hope you know that.”

State
MI
Zip Code
48160