My B-side

Ender and Valentine

The quiet things that no one ever knows: My sleepless mind tried its best to understand why my mother would call three times and text twice before the clock hit 8. When I realized that three times warrants an emergency of the sort, I called back with slurred morning speech and sleep filled eyes. My mother’s voice was urgent. She needed a tow-truck, which equals “What is our Triple A membership number.” Sometimes I feel like I’m the parent…oh well. So I tried my best to voice it over. I asked what had happen. Apparently my wonderful brother went psycho on her Mazda, and left it for dead under a bypass. I asked a rhetorical question (this is the 5th car he has wrecked, including my dad’s truck), why would he do that? Apparently, he was on some pretty hard drugs. Ones they don’t teach you about in health class. (I didn’t fully comprehend, at Christmas my brother had cleaned up.) By now, my mom was sobbing into the receiver and I was wide awake. She summarized my brother’s dramatic monologue, “He said you were my favorite. And Dad’s favorite. And he said he hated you and he can’t be perfect like you.”(She always tells me more than I’d like to hear.) My heart broke. I wanted to scream at him, but I knew if I called profanities would be aplenty. I hate profanities. :( So, now it’s 8 something and I have a battery acid taste in my mouth. Sleep is only a nice thought. Just give me one more day, Matthew, and then I’ll come rescue you. Moral of the story: Don’t do drugs; you’ll make your little sister cry.

posted by Melissa at 18:09