Page 73 of A Ballad of Phantoms and Hope
I nodded and smiled, infatuated with him. I’d fallen in love twice in my short life. Once when I was sixteen and another at twenty-five.
His smile was slick, like poison on my skin. I should’ve known anything as beautiful and cruel as him had teeth to bite—venom to kill.
But what lured me most to him was his ability to make me hate myself as much as I’d grown used to. As if I neededsomeone to remind me should I stray and think rationally. He’d learned so much from observing the interactions between me and my parents.
The role I played in the family.
The scapegoat never gets away. Everyone seemed to know that except me.
“You know I do,” I said back, not meaning it at all but saying it anyway.
He was kind when he wanted something. Tomorrow, his face would change.
We sat placidly at my stepmother’s table as she prepared dinner. My father frowned as I told him of the recent dance gig I landed.
“You’ll go hungry chasing these silly dreams,” he said coldly.
I’d learned just to nod and accept whatever they’d say. But today I wanted them to know how well I was doing. The life I’d created for myself.
“I’m actually making a decent bit. I’ll be able to pay off the lessons and have a good chunk left over to travel. I’ll also be starting therapy,” I said timidly.
It was going to be my first session and I was terrified. I knew what they thought of it, but I’d heard from so many others that it helps. God, I wanted help. Needed it. Part of me wanted their approval. I knew that was stupid, but I still wanted it.
I picked at my skin nervously waiting for someone to say something.
My stepmother slammed both her fists against the countertop. Cold shot through my body like a bullet. Sweat instantly collected on my forehead. Dishes fell to the floor and shattered. My boyfriend’s eyes widened and my father took a deep breath.
“Why? So they’ll lock you up? They’ll see how fucked up and awful you are! Vile bitch. Do you know how much you ruined our lives?! How much wegaveyou?” she screamed at me, throwing the pitcher of tea at the sink. Glass went everywhere.
But I couldn’t even think. My blood was louder than I’d ever heard it, roaring through my ears like a siren. Telling me to flee and find safety from this place.
“You’re the reason I’ll die of cancer someday. All the stress you’ve caused me. Tell them that. Tell them everything you’ve done to me,” my stepmother shouted as she threw her cup of water at me.
Water hit the side of my head and still I blinked numbly. I knew I should move, but I couldn’t. I just sat there and pinched my skin so hard it tore.
This will never end.I thought.Shhh, don’t let them see you cry. Just go. You know how. It willneverend. You are the problem.
I am the problem.
Slowly, I stood from the table. Everyone was yelling at me now, but their voices and words were deep rumbles. It were as if a veil had fallen over me, shielding against the horror. Somehow this blow up was my fault. I walked steadily toward the front door and walked across the lawn with my bare feet.
“Hey. Where are you going!” My boyfriend called after me. His footsteps were loud against the pavement.
I stopped in the middle of the vacant street, gravel sticking to the soles of my feet, and looked back at him. I wanted him to say something nice. I needed it desperately.
Couldn’t they see the pain they were causing? The despair that bubbled over?
I was tired. I was losing myself. More and more with each word.
He stopped and grabbed my wrist. “What? Are you going to go hurt yourself again? Come on, Ophelia. Get back inside and have dinner. Don’t make this a big deal.”
Am I the only sane person here? Can’t anyone else see?
“Go back inside and have dinner? After that traumatizing display of aggression? No. I won’t be going back inside.” I tore my arm from his grip and he slapped me across the face. Fire spread over my cheek and I stood there, stunned and motionless as my head bobbed with shock.
“Those are your parents, Ophelia. Respect them. No matter what. You respect them.”
I glared at him.
