Saturday, January 19, 2013

When Your Lip Quivers With Your World

Anger is the feeling that makes your mouth work faster than your mind.

I don't know who said that but I'll give them credit, even though it's not true for me. Introverted girl who sits at the kitchen table trying to solve a math problem while she hears things going on upstairs. It doesn't matter why her dad is yelling, but he's yelling and he's the person who proves the very first sentence of this post truer than anything. 

My family is a family, but only in some ways. Sure, we eat all of our meals together and we go places together but sometimes there are times when I just want to stand up and scream that this is not the way things are supposed to be. "If you fight fire with fire, you just get more fire." I'm not sure who said this one either. I said it once, in the middle of a space simulation where I was in the world of Star Trek losing my temper at an evil alien who was going to blow up a bunch of innocent citizens {neither of which were real}. That time it was fun, but in the real world it isn't.

It isn't fun when you're suffering from slight insomnia of thought processes and it's past midnight and your parents think you're asleep, so they let loose their anger. Yelling and yelling and how the heck do they think you're still asleep? Everybody's awake by now. Someone's crying. We all hear, but you don't speak up because you're supposed to be asleep and you're so afraid that this argument is going to be the one that splits everyone apart.

Not that they're split already. Just one little thing, and someone is screaming their head off and all these words you've heard a million times before but you're not sure if they're bad or not. They sure sound bad, and then your sister is crying and you're sitting at the kitchen table thinking how do they expect me to do math?! and there is a rice pillow on the kitchen table. Rice pillows are for putting in the microwave to keep things warm. 

This one is cold.

You'd feel cold, if you weren't burning with a rage.

This isn't your fight, but you feel it is and you stare at that rice pillow thinking I'm going to throw that at the yeller and tell him to shut up and tell him that he's yelled enough and my sister is in tears and all he does is scream more insults and threats and I'VE HAD ENOUGH

But my mouth doesn't work faster than my mind and my lip is so bit it might be bleeding. The pillow stays where it is and there's a shaky video I took filming the wall but recording the words screamed, hiding in the camera waiting for someone to watch. And there's an imprint in my mind of the picture of people standing by. Me standing by.

It's quiet in the house again now, but it might not last for long.

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