All The Lonely People - Where do they all come from?
YaY! I finally posted something on here! This is a story that I began writing Last March. It's taken me a year to finish it but hell I at least eventually finished it!
"The Perfect Family"
What would you consider the perfect family? I think when most people picture the perfect family; they see a quaint suburban house. You open the gate of the white picket fence. As you walk up the front path to the house, you notice and smell the freshly cut grass, makes you feel safe, Like you have lived here all your life. When reach the front door you ring the bell, you hear the beautiful chimes ring throughout out the house. While you wait to be welcomed into the home, you smell the newly blooming tulips and daisies, you think to yourself how beautiful they are, how well taken care of they are. You lose yourself in the moment but it doesn’t last long because you suddenly realize that the door is opening. The “Man” of the house welcomes you, tall, dark and handsome. He greets you with a firm handshake and a bright yet stern grin. The “lady” of the house comes up to greet you next. She has a becoming, comforting smile. As you lean in to hug her you get absorbed by mildly expensive perfume and the faint smell of sugar cookies. You separate from her and try to wipe the cheap lipstick off your check discreetly. The three of you stand there for a moment than he calls for the kids upstairs. Two kids come crashing downstairs and there in front of you stands a boy you figure to be about 16 and a girl who appears to be 18. The mother introduces them.
The father shows you to the living room and you go to sit on the couch but before you have a chance you hear the father yell at the golden retriever sleeping to get off the furniture. You finally sit down on the couch and the man of the house sits in his favorite recliner. You can tell he loves that chair; it perfectly contours to his body. He must have had it since before he was married. The old beat up chair does not match the rest of the furniture in the living you but you know just by looking at him that he would never give up his chair. So there it sits oddly in place amongst the matching set from Sears in all its ugly glory. The lady of the house takes a seat on the love seat. The dog comes slinking back in and hops onto the couch next to her, curls into a ball and begins to nap. The two kids promptly sit on the floor. Father starts talking about his job. He’s doing quite well for himself, a professor at the local college with ten year. As he starts in about difference about going to college and teaching it you drift off. You notice the neatly hung family portrait hung over the fireplace. The whole family is smiling happily or it at least appears that way. The father is still rambling on and you nod respectfully now and then so he doesn’t know that you have no idea what he just said. Still looking around you look at the mantle above the fireplace there are more photos; a black and white wedding photo, the two kids on the first day of school, the family vacation to the Grand Canyon, and a picture of last years family reunion. You think to yourself for a moment how lucky they are. Suddenly you snap out of it because you realize that “professor” has asked you a question about your schooling. He stares at you with that “teacher look” like he asked you a question just because he knew you weren’t paying attention. You stir in your sit and feel somehow ashamed telling him that you dropped out in your sophomore year and got your GED at 18. “Where did you go to college?” he asks. You fret for a minute trying to think of a college that you know something about. Finally “Dartmouth” you blurt out. “Really?” he asks, peering over his glasses. “Yes, I studied World History” “Very impressive” he says, and then moves onto the family trip to the Bahamas last year. You lean back in your chair and breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t pry into your college experience.
You start dazing again but before you get the chance to get in to deep the mother excuses herself and goes into the kitchen. Disturbed by the movement the dog opens one eye, peers around, sniffs a little bit then goes back to sleep. She comes back with a plate of freshly baked cookies and a pitcher of milk. She pours a glass and hands it to you. You take it and say thank you even though you don’t particularly like milk, you do not want to appear ungrateful. Father grabs a cookie, takes a bite, and comments that they don’t have enough sugar. Mother just glances at him, then sits back on the love seat next to the still snoozing dog. The son then reaches for a cookie as he does his sleeve slowly rises up his arm and you notice the bandage around his left wrist. The father chokes slightly on his cookie and stares at his son. Not a stare of compassion or concern but a stare of “how could you let out guest see that”. He then turns and looks at you and tells you that he hurt his wrist playing football. You look at the son who has put the cookie back. He sits on the floor playing with his bandages. You realize that the boy has never played football in his life. You think to yourself “Why did he do that?” As you sit there pondering this, his sister who is sitting next to him coughs. This draws your attention to her. You stare at her wondering what her story is. But again you cannot think for too long because the father has broken in “Honey, why don’t you tell us all about what happened last week?” She just sits there “What happened?” you ask, she still just sits there. “She was announced as the senior class’s valedictorian” her father says proudly. “Congratulations” you say to her. She just nods “kmph” is all her father can mutter. The mother feeling she hasn’t been partaking in the conversation enough starts talking about her daughters accomplishments; “School president, captain of the soccer and volleyball teams, youth counselor, and she also volunteers at the local nursing home. We’re so proud of her. She has amazed us so much over the years.” “Yes, she has and now she’ll go to college and become a professor like her old man” her father says with a grin. She still says nothing. “Right, Honey?” he asks her. She still just sits there, silently, slowing curling up into a little ball, trying not to be seen. “Right?” he asks again in a stern, slightly harsh voice, you can tell that he is growing tired of her act. “Right” she finally mutters quietly. “See there a professor just like her old man”. The girl gets up in a hurry and storms up stairs, a door slams and the room goes quiet. Silence. The boy then says under his breathe” that’s what I was gonna do”. “What was that?” his mother asks “Nothing” he replies.
A few seconds of uncomfortable silence pass, they fell like minutes. Finally “Go see what the matter with her is” the father says to his son. He slowly gets up and slinks up the stairs as quietly as possible. The mother announces she is going to get dinner ready and excuses herself. You are now alone with just the man of the house. You can feel he is uncomfortable about what has happened. “I’m sorry for her attitude” he says “It’s ok” “I have no idea what is the matter with that girl. She is so bright and has such a promising future ahead of her”. You just nod not sure what you should say. He continues to talk but again your mind has gone to other things. You think to yourself “I wonder what is bothering her. She looks happy from the outside.” You realize that she reminds you a lot of yourself when you were younger. You always pretended to be happy to please others but really were not, you feel this is no different. You start thinking if she even really wants to be a professor like her “old man”. He has stopped talking. You ask him where the bathroom is. He tells you up the stairs and to the right. He mumbles something about the downstairs being broken but you have already made your way to the second floor. You put some water on your face and try to figure this whole family out. You met the mother at the local post office. You went to buy some stamps because you just moved to the town and wanted to let your family know you made it safe, you thought a letter would be a nice gesture. You got to talking with her and wound up a few days later at her house for dinner. You’re still looking at yourself in the mirror when you hear faint mumbling. You panic thinking that everyone is wondering why you are taking so long in the bathroom but than realize it is coming from the next room over. It’s the two children talking. You know you should not listen to what they are saying but your dying to know what his family is all about. “Why the fuck does he always have to do that?!” you hear the daughter say. “You know he’s an ass, at least you get the fuck out of here soon.” The son replies. “I know but still I don’t want to be a professor like he is. I would rather kill myself than ever be like him.” There is silence as the daughter realizes the nerve she just hit. “Listen, you’ve had it fucking good here. They always paid attention to you. You’re there star child, the one everyone loves. I’m the other one. The most attention dad ever paid me was in the middle of the night. Every night for years he paid attention to me…..” he stops and takes a breath, you can hear in his voice that he wants to cry. He speaks again “Their the only parents that see cutting yourself as an act punishable by a weeks grounding, instead of a cry for help. Imagine when I tell them I’m gay? They are gonna flip, dad will disown me and mom being his little minion will go with him because she cannot think for herself. …” Again he stops, you sense this time it’s because he does not want to get carried away. “Ugh, I hate this fucking family. Don’t worry I’m going to take you with me whenever I get a place of my own. If I don’t take you……listen, we’ll take about this later, dinner is probably ready.”
You hurry downstairs before they leave the room so they don’t know you heard what they said. You enter the dining room, the table is beautifully set. The father sits at the head of the table. The mother is still putting a few dishes on the table and smiles as you sit down. The children come in and sit down without looking at anyone. A few moments later, everyone is around the table and food starts being passed around. You squirm under the uncomfortable silence as everyone chews. The dog comes in a rests his head on you knee hoping for scraps. You give him some yams because yams a few years back gave you food poisoning, so you refuse to eat them now. Dinner goes by achingly slow. You offer to help clear the table when dinner is finally over but before the mother can say anything the father says “No, you’re the guest, sit.”, Looking at his daughter, “go help your mother, Honey”. He chuckles to himself “all the women in the kitchen, way it should be” he nudges his son with a grin. His son just rolls his eyes and looks away in disgust. You sit there uncomfortable by the last comment. You realize he is not the man that you thought he was when he first came to the door. Thankfully, dessert comes and goes.
The father gets up and head to the living room again as the children and their mother clean up. He offers you to sit but you decline for you do not want to wear out your welcome. You thank them all for their hospitality and tell the lady of the house the dinner was wonderful. You exit the house, past the tulips and daisies; they no longer look so beautiful. The smell of fresh cut grass has faded “Come back soon, don’t be a stranger” calls the father as you reach your car. You smile and wave to him, as you do you notice the son looking out the window with an expression that screams “take me with you”. His sister taps his shoulder and he leaves the window. You get in your car and pull away from the house. You don’t drive very far though. You pull over and begin to cry. Your hands clutching the steering wheel you place you head on them. Before your visit, you thought your life was terrible. You went into this house thinking it was perfect. How wrong you were, there is no perfect family. Life has been hard for you, maybe harder than some others but still it’s your family. Your brother was handicapped, living everyday with the anguish that he could die any day. You lost your home, dropped out of school, and suffered through many obstacles in your life. However, you never wanted to change them they just get you down once and awhile. You pick your head up again and dry your tears. You realize that your life isn’t that bad after all. You realize that the families that seem good are not always they are just better at hiding it. You go home and take out the paper that you had brought to write to your parents. Then you put it away and pick up the phone. “Mom, I love you. Can you put dad on I need to tell him too?”
Email: Trashy2885@hotmail.com
