Chapter Text
I wake up to the fire alarm. The sound digs into my head, making it hard to think. My feet touch the floor, but it doesn’t feel like I’m the one moving. This world is strange I think and I wonder what’s going on. Is there a fire in the house? Is the house about to burn down? Where are everyone else? Am I completely alone in the world? My hands shake as I walk downstairs. My breathing is kind of shallow, but I don’t pay any attention to that. I just know that I need to figure out what is happening.
The kitchen is filled with thick smoke and the window is open. Charlie stands there, frantically waving a dish towel in front of the window to get the smoke out, mumbling shit shit shit under his breath. I stand there. The kitchen looks normal, other than the clearly burnt toast on the counter. Oliver comes jumping at me, with his tractor in hand. I nearly fall to the ground. He is covering his ears with his hands. Charlie is a terrible cook. I hate the fire alarm.
Same, I say as I steady myself and lean on the doorframe.
Sorry. I wanted to surprise you, I think Charlie shouts over the noise, it didn’t go as planned. He closes the window and turns off the alarm. Finally, I can breathe, but my hands are still shaking. He sits down at the kitchen table. Oliver sits down on the floor with his tractor, telling it that it’s all fine now, as if it’s a conscious being. To him it probably is.
You got me out of bed though, that’s something, is the only thing I say before I open the fridge to get a can of diet lemonade. It’s way too early in the morning for this. But things are okay, nothing is wrong. And even though I know this, the feeling doesn’t subside. It stays in my body when I sit down, look out the window at the winter sun, the metres of snow from yesterday. I remember what happened yesterday. I remember the flames. Why does life have to be like this?
Mum and dad went to the grocery store, Charlie says, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He looks to be thinking about something. I don’t push him to talk because I’m not in the mood to talk. That must be selfish, right? I take a sip of my drink. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as I hoped it would which is strange because I’m addicted to the stuff. I can hear Oliver dragging his tractor across the floor. It’s making an annoying screeching sound. I wish everything could just be quiet. I think I’m starting to get a headache. I put the drink on the table.
Are you okay? he asks, almost so quiet that I don’t hear it, but I do and I don’t know what to answer. I don’t understand why I’m so indecisive. I don’t seem to be understanding much at all today. Maybe it’s the fact that I finally fell asleep last night. That is even stranger than the lemonade.
We need to talk about what happened yesterday…
No. We can’t talk about that. We can’t open that gate. If we open that gate, then everything will be ruined. Everything will be out in the open, because I can’t lie to him. He doesn’t deserve a lying sister on top of a sad one. He doesn’t deserveanything of the bad he’s had to deal with; he’s too good a person. Why does all the bad things happen to the good people? Why am I his sister when I don’t give a shit about anything?
Victoria, please talk to me, he is pleading with me now. His eyes are so big and it looks like he’s about to cry. I hate that I make him feel this way. Sister of the year award goes to me, I guess.
There is nothing to talk about, I’m finally able to say and I walk over to Oliver on the floor, who’s now narrating a story to himself as he pushes the tractor back and forth. I ask him if he wants me to play with him. Charlie stares at me from the table. He wipes his eyes with his sweater sleeve. Oliver nods and asks me to get the other tractor from the living room.
—
When mum and dad get back, I ignore them and walk back to my room. It’s 12 p.m. Later than I thought. Michael has texted me several times since yesterday, asking to meet up. I flop down on my bed, close my eyes and try not to think about stuff, but it’s impossible. So much has happened and I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I know who I am anymore. Or, who I thought I was. Maybe I never was that person in the first place. Maybe all this is just a bizarre dream and I’ll wake up in a completely different body, a completely different person. The thought is comforting.
There is no before, only after. After Solitaire. After Michael. I don’t mean to but I start crying, big, fat tears stream down my face and my nose fills with snot. Human bodies are so gross. Human bodies don’t make any sense. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Nothing that has happened warrants this type of reaction.
I don’t know how long I lay there for, only that when I get up, my phone pings again, twice, because Michael has sent another message. I want to ignore it, but I can’t.
Michael 12:41
Can you meet me at the park?
Please?
Tori 12:42
Why?
Michael 12:42
It’ll have to be a surprise
Tori 12:42
Don’t play games with me
Michael 12:42
Don’t play games with me victoria
When I go downstairs to put on my shoes, I can hear Nick talking to Charlie. It sounds like they are playing Mario Kart. They sound so happy. They are always happy without me there. Just as I’m about to leave, mum stops me. Her arms are crossed and she does not look happy.
Where do you think you’re going? she says, her eyes literally staring into my soul. Or whatever I got that’s a replacement for it. Why is it that she hates me so much? Why is it that she thinks she can control everything I do?
Just out, I take on my coat.
No, Victoria. We need to talk to you.
Can’t it wait? I say, probably harsher than I should have because now she’s looking at me with that disappointed look she always does. She sighs and tells me to get in the living room. She tells Nick that he has to leave. Charlie gives him a kiss before he goes out the door. It reminds me of Michael. I wonder why he kissed me. I wonder why I kissed back. I wonder why everything has seemed to shatter all around me and no matter how hard I try I can’t find the pieces-
Tori, come on, Charlie says and I follow him to the living room. My palms are hot. I realise just how sweaty I am despite the cold. I take off my coat.
Everyone sits down in the living room like this is some kind of intervention you’d see in a film. It reminds me of the time Nick helped Charlie talk to our parents about his eating disorder before it got really bad. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that time and help him before it got so bad. Hopefully in that universe I helped before the bullying even started.
Everyone is looking at me. Mum looks afraid, like I haven’t seen her before. She’s holding dad’s hand. Charlie is the first to speak: I’m really worried about you. You haven’t seemed like yourself for a long time. But after what happened yesterday. What were you trying to do?
I don’t say anything. I don’t think I need to.
We think it would be good for you to see a therapist. Would you like that? dad says. He wipes a tear from his eye. I hate that I make everyone cry. I hate that I’m such a burden to everyone. Michael is probably freezing out there.
This is not happening, I say, but it doesn’t feel like my voice. It sounds like someone else, someone angry. Don’t act like you care!
Charlie says something but I don’t hear him. Everyone starts saying things but I can’t hear it. I wonder if I'm going crazy. I probably have.
The rest of the day is a haze, like a shapeless cloud has settled into the house. They wouldn’t let me leave the house. I don’t do much. I lay on the sofa and Oliver plays with my hair. Mum brings me a glass of lemonade. I am able to eat the flavourless meal dad made. Charlie is too. I try to watch a film, but I can’t focus. I lay in bed for a long time, hearing snippets of my parents talking downstairs. Do you think we’ll be able to help her? I don’t understand how we could have missed this! I’m a bad mum. No, you’re not. She wouldn’t have told us like Charlie did. What’s important is that we support her…
I fall asleep whilst listening to music. I don’t remember the songs.