Every Day in the Purling Residence

SO I really rather like this. And now I'm thinking I'm going to put it in my story because it's a major shift in how Angela thinks of her sisters. Another shift will happen when she gets to REALLY know Cindy more, but that'll be after the mom dies. Sad, i know, but it works.

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"Things don't make sense anymore. I mean, I like him and he kisses so. . . I don't know how to describe it. His hands are just. . ." I moaned happily and shivered in excitement. "I just can't wait to see him again. I mean i shouldn't put so much into him, but. . . oh. . . He's just wonderful. . ."

I couldn't help, but sigh again. Just the thought of him. With his fingers brushing my arm and lips looming over my ear with his breath gliding down my neck. I pressed my hand to my chest and sighed.

"You're insane. You know that, right?" Jessica, my pesky eleven-year-old sister, leaned against my door frame. He cleats were making dirty imprints on my freshly cleaned carpet.

I shot up from my bed where I'd been laying and practically sprinted across the room to slam the door in her face. "I'm on the phone, you freak!" I screamed as she scurried down the hall to her own room.  "Oh, my. . . I'm so sick of her sometimes. I just want to break her neck, Sarah," I said into the phone as I shut my door. "I don't understand how you have five younger siblings and still seem to love them all. One is bad enough over here."

"They really aren't so bad, Ang," Sarah said sympathetically through the receiver. "You just gotta have patience with them."

"You sound like my mother," I growled and sprawled on my bed. There was a knock on my door. "Go away, Jessica!"

"It's Cindy," a small voice said though the wood. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sorry, Sarah, I gotta go. Mental is back."

"You really shouldn't--" I hung up the phone before she could finish. I felt bad about it after I'd done it, and told myself I'd apologize later as I went to open up the door to my mentally retarded older sister.

"What do you want, Cindy?" Our eyes were at even with each others even though she was three years older than me and should be in college right now, that is, if she wasn't so handicapped. I don't know why we didn't just put her a help care home place. She'd be able to be with other retarded people her own age, and not bug me twenty-three hours out of the day.

Cindy looked shyly though her blond curls and smiled. Her green eyes twinkling and shinning with innocence. Everyone around this house seemed to frustrate me, that is besides Tony. My twin just seemed to get me. It probably had to do with the fact that we were in the same uterus for eight months, but we were always close. Closer than some twins I'd known, that was for sure.

"I was just. . . wondering if you'd stop calling Jesse a "freak." She's really not one. And I think you hurt her feelings--"

"I can stand up for myself, Cindy!" Jessica shouted through her open door before slamming it again in frustration. She has major anger issues.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course she's a freak. Especially" --my voice got louder to be sure she heard me-- "when she slams her door like one!"

"You should really--"

"I should what? Be nicer to her? Well, have her be nicer to me first then I will." I shut the door in her face and went back to my phone.

"Oh. . . Okay. . ." Cindy said though the door and probably turned away.

"Hello?" Sarah asked on the phone again.

"Hey, sorry about that. I didn't mean to disconnect so rudely. Anyway, so did i tell you what I was wearing?"

Knock knock knock.

I turned the phone away to yell at my door, when Tony came in. I sighed. "Sorry, now i really gotta go, Sarah. I'll talk to you tomorrow at school."

"Ah. . . okay. Bye." She disconnected before I did that time.

"What do you want, Tony?"

He just stared at me knowingly, like he always does, without saying a word.

"Well?"

Still nothing.

"I didn't do anything wrong this time. Jessica was tracking mud all over my room while I was in the middle of a phone call. She could have waited and. . ." His eyebrow cocked. "She should apologize first. I wasn't the one who. . ." He crossed his arms. "Stop it already! Stop looking at me like that! I'm not the bad guy here."

He shook his head, his red hair bouncing as he did so, and walked out of my room leaving the door open. If there was one person in the world that I couldn't stand having mad at me, it was my brother.

"Tony!" I groaned and left the phone on my bed as I went back to my door.

He'd gone to Jessica's room and knocked gently. Her door opened without a sound under his touch and he stepped in. "Are you alright?" he asked sweetly, quietly.

I heard a sniffle. My eyes widened. Had I actually made Jessica cry? No. I couldn't have. She hates me too much to actually have her cry over me. I stepped closer, but stayed out of view in the hall.

"Come on, Jesse. You can talk to me. Please?" I could see him in my mind's eye brushing back the dark brown shadow of her hair trying to get at her eyes. She'd bury her head in her arm or something and hide. Not a word was said in at least five minutes. The whole house seemed to have gone silent as I strained to hear. There was the scratch of nails against clothing--he was probably rubbing her back--and her sniffles.

"I just. . ." Jessica said finally, but her voice caught in her throat and became muffled, probably in the crook of her arm. The sheets moved in the room and footsteps were coming closer. I was frozen on the other side of the wall and even felt the wind of the door as my sister slammed it shut for the third time. A small hair line crack appeared in the door frame.

Obviously dismissed, I turned and nearly ran into Cindy. She stared at me innocently and smiled. "She's not a freak," she said simply and turned to her bedroom, across the hall from my own, and lightly closed the door.

I walked down the stairs, through the kitchen and to the back door. Lady, Tony's golden lab, met me a the door and followed me toward the swing. I sat down and pushed off ever so slightly. My happy mood was vaporized by the sobs of my sister. Her window was empty and reflected the sun in my eyes, making me look down. The ivy that had grown up the side of the cream colored house danced at the base of the window seal in the wind.

I sighed and looked down at Lady, who sat expectantly looking at my hand. my fingers brushed though her warm fur and scratched at her ears. "I'm not so bad, am I?" I asked her. If she could have, she would have been smiling happily up at me as her head pressed into my hand. Begging for more.

"I can't be all bad, right. . . ?" I asked myself even though I knew I wouldn't like the answer. And the fact was, I didn't like my answer, and was afraid I wouldn't be able to change it.

IDEA!!

What would happen if where ever someone walked and they heard a fight they were blamed for it? The moment they were within ear shot of a heated argument they were forced to take the blame and couldn't do anything about it. How low would their self-esteem go? What if it happened during those "growing up years" where everything is just "a phase?" But if it wasn't a phase. If it was for real. If I wasn't making this up? If everyone blamed me for every accident even if there was no evidence to back it up? If I couldn't help it.

Even though I haven't been in prison for anything, I have more enemies than I ever had as friends. Suddenly all of my social attitudes have gone down the drain and I'm never going to get them back. No one trusts me. No one likes me. I can't do anything write it seems. I get good grades, read as many books as I can get my hands on, follow the rules, but I see no one except for when I go to school. My parents even hate me and can't stand the sight of me. So they keep me away. But that's how it's been for the past six years.

It's hard to believe that anyone wants me around, but I do have one "friend." I can't really stand her, but she's the only one that doesn't blame me constantly for everything that goes wrong. There is something wrong with her brain. Lilliah has a mental defect, but she's very active and everyone really loves her. Or. . . Well they did until she spotted me in the library one day and just came up and started talking with me. She didn't mind the whispers that were starting and didn't even seem to notice them; she still hasn't it seems.  I may not like her all that much, but she is my lifeline. . . She is the one person that helps make me feel good about myself. . . if it's even possible for too long.

She's the only reason I'm still alive. . . A blade would have long danced across my wrist, a rope would make a pretty necklace, pills would taste mighty fine that is. . . if it hadn't been for her.