“It’s not necessarily a concern. It’s not one of those ones that number his days; he’s fine.”
I wasn’t fine; I just wasn’t acknowledged whenever my pain was vocalized. So, these days, I kept quiet. Silence soothed my pangs, massaging my agony to a manageable ache.
I swallowed the mushed food in my mouth after breaking it down so much, it no longer held any taste.
My mother’s eyes darted to me; her nostrils splayed, releasing the steam from her anger. “You’ve been told about that. Other people are eating. Be mindful; you don’t want to put anyone off their dinner.”
Her reminder was painful. I should have been used to it; the onlywords she ever gave me were hateful sneers.
I placed another chunk into my mouth, keeping my face blank and my thoughts on nothing but chewing. I covered my throat with my hand before swallowing, to permit anyone else from feeling the disgust my mother did whenever I swallowed in her view. The sight was unpleasant, fit for a freak show, so I couldn’t blame her for her revulsion.
It was no secret it was my flaw. The one thing that stole my image from the perfection desperate to claim me as its own. . . you know, that and the malnutrition that made me skinnier and paler than I otherwise would have been.
Swallowing, heavy breaths, even talking caused an unsightly movement in my throat.
“It’s benign,” my father added, speaking with the chicken still between his teeth. The aroma of the last cigarette he’d inhaled cuddled up on his furry tongue. “It’s not a threat. We looked at the possibility of removal, but it isn’t an option. He’d be left scarred, disfigured, and unable to speak.”
“That’s awful.” Jolie’s words were quiet, coated in the sadness she felt. Only part of it was for me—part of it was for another, maybe her mother or father?
Her puffy eyes told me she’d been crying last night, praying to our God that she’d awaken from this nightmare where they no longer existed, into the safety of their arms.
Luckily, she had Nessie, who had kept her occupied for the day, demanding her attention and thanking her with the unconditional love that she gave to absolutely everyone.
“Are you okay?” her words and gentle tone pulled me from the void inside my mind, a space slowly filling with reminders of her.
“I’m fine.” The words hurt me. I took a sip of water to diminish the pain, covering my throat once more as I swallowed, slightly envious that I couldn’t enjoy the heaviness of a fizzy soda like everyone else.
“Woodrow, it’s good to have you back, kid.” My father’s smirk caught my eye; he was well aware due to my tone and personality shift that I was back to being me. And he wasn’t glad about it. He wanted someone else, and I didn’t even dare to imagine why.
I hadn’t been Woodrow much these past few days. . . but I hadn’t been what he wanted. The smell of the alcohol fading from his breathset me on edge. I knew who he was expecting. And I was surprised he hadn’t already visited, given the shit my father pulled this morning.
When I blanked out, I was sure Hell would have taken over. But it was Woody who had stepped in instead. I knew that for a fact because I noticed my skin was bruised as I side-glanced my father.
I had no idea what went on during the blank spaces in my memory. For a short time, at the very start, I feared I was fucking possessed. But after extensive research, I no longer believed that true.
Nessie, and Woody, for that matter, referred to my alters as body-buddies, and now, I believed they were, in fact, buddies. Personas with their own memories and qualities that took over when life was too much for me.
“Your mother and I had that conversation,” my father continued.
I thought back to the conversation from this morning, the one that led to my assault. But he’d barely said a word before he started hitting me, so I remembered nothing of it.
He’d tried a few days ago too, but being alone with him brought me anxiety, and that was how Woody—body-buddy number one—had taken over, preventing him from telling me anything.
I twisted further around in my seat to see him. His lips were closed, hiding the food trapped in the gaps of his teeth and the cavities caused by years of neglecting dental hygiene.
“I was expecting you to look a little more excited.” My father flicked his gaze to Jolie who hadn’t even noticed he’d spoken because she’d become lost in her thoughts as she continued feeding herself. And thank God for that, as it stopped her from noticing a glint of sinister desire shining in his stare.
I let his words sink in, unsure what he meant by them. But my eyes immediately drifted to Jolie and her pretty hair.
I wonder what it smells like? What she tastes like?I’d never had these kinds of thoughts before, and I’d never voice them and let my father privy to the fact that I had desires of my own—for her.
I didn’t reply to my father, but my excitement wrote its story across my face, no longer blank, no longer passive and expressionless, but a story waiting to be told.
And he read the entire length inless than ten seconds flat.
He saw my excitement.
But I wanted to show it to her. In private. I wanted her to see my excitement. I wanted her to feel it, but she saw nothing but the food shifting onto her fork and she felt nothing but the crunch of crispy fries between her perfect teeth.
