A Girl of Her Dreams: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

I still feel my cheeks stinging. My shoulder still is sore. I don’t care. I’m tired of it. The tears fall down my cheeks, and I have only a second to get the pillow before I actually start sobbing.

I don’t know why we do it, Nathan and I. We fight almost every day. Sometimes just because of a little thing. But no one believes me when I say that Nathan hit me first. Even if it’s the truth. They always believe the little boy, the boy who used to be the baby of the family.

I used to be the spoiled girl, because I was the only little girl with three women to take care of me. But, after Ninang Joy and Ninang Leah both left, and Mom went to nursing school and is now a nurse, I was left with three boys. And a little girl toddler that I had to take care of. I sigh heavily, and I wipe the tears from my face and look at myself in the mirror hanging in my room.

I see a girl with large, dark brown eyes that look black. Her hair goes down almost to her waist. She’s breathing fast, as if she just ran a race. She looks weak, but yet strong.

And I hate that girl.

Instead of punching the mirror as I want to, I go back on my bed and huddle into a ball. While waiting for the day to end, I imagine a life without my brothers. That would be amazing. No Kuya Joseph, no Kuya Jonathan, no Nathan. But then I realize, that my life would still be pretty horrible.

The tears and sobs come back, so I throw those thoughts away and I take out a carefully stored memory of my dad.

At the time, my dad wasn’t retired from the Navy, he still worked in the submarine. That day, he just came back from deployment. We were happy, cheerful, and laughing. But then he got a call from the submarine. They said that he needed to come back, because there was a problem and they needed his help. Being the four-year-old I was, I started to cry. But he gathered me in his arms, and he sang Amazing Grace to me. I stopped crying then, because I knew that my dad would be there for me always.

But, it turns out, the daddy’s girl started to go away from her father. I was never the mom’s girl. I just was...alone. It hurt. It gave pain. My brothers had each other. I had a little three-year-old girl named Sarah who doesn’t even know how to use the bathroom by herself.

A knock sounds on my door, and I jump up. Unlike my brothers, who all know that my lock was broken and the door can be pushed open, my mom didn’t know that.

“Emily, do you want to go to Commissary with me?” she asks.

I ponder for a moment. The Commissary is a store, mainly groceries, for the Military, Navy, and anyone who serves the country. Mom is also in the Navy, though, she’s a nurse, too. Going to Commissary means a free cookie, and any treat of my choice. But, instead, I tell her,

“I don’t really feel up for it, Mom.” I say.

I see the disappointment on her face. I know that she’s wondering why her oldest daughter isn’t interested in doing anything except read and dance. And I know it hurts her, as I am hurt. If it hurts as much as I feel, than I must be as bad as a criminal.

I am suddenly glad that I didn’t open the door. So she wouldn’t see the guilt flicker on my face. I quickly pick up a book and start scanning it. When I hear her go down the stairs, I look at the cover of the book. Anne of Green Gables. I read it at least ten times. And yet I read it again.

I stay on my bed until Nathan and Sarah are both calling me to eat supper. I close the book without bothering to place a bookmark in it and I drag myself downstairs. I take in the scene in front of me.

My mom came back from Commissary while I was reading, and she set up the table, and made adobo chicken and rice. My stomach rumbles, and only then do I realize that I skipped breakfast and lunch. Like almost every other day.

My family of seven all sits down. We fill our plates while waiting for Mom to wash her hands, then we pray. I slowly chew my food, watching my family closely. Nathan and Sarah are doing a little game that I don’t understand, Kuya Jonathan and Kuya Joseph are talking to each other about how amazing a game is. Mom and Dad are watching the news.  Zeus, my black Labrador puppy, is gnawing on a bone.

This is why I feel so lonely. All of my siblings, an obviously my parents, have someone near their age to talk to. Well, Nathan is only a year and a day younger than me, but people say that I am more mature than him, and I still haven’t forgiven him for hitting me earlier. After eating, I go back to bed.

This goes on for days. The ignoring, the pain, the crying. Until one day:

My birthday was earlier this month, so I don’t have any hope for seeing all my friends together again until I long time. It doesn’t help that its summer and people are going on vacations. I sit outside, enjoying the humid air. I don’t know why I was enjoying the heat. Maybe it was because it reminded me of my heart—coal-hot, burning—but it made it seem so much nicer. I shut my eyes, almost being able to believe that I was wanted here. Then I heard someone’s voice.

“Hey, Em!”

I open my eyes, “Jimmy, how many times do I have to say that I don’t like being called that?”

I hear him say something, but I don’t hear it that well. “Where’s Johnny?”

“Inside,” Jimmy says.

Jimmy, my neighbor, is eleven years, but I’ve always been taller than him. When all of our neighbors, and Nathan, comes outside, we start voting for games. We play four square, then tag. I feel a smile on my face as I run, my long legs an advantage.

But then I fall, scraping my knee and arms. I lay there, on the cement, shocked. But I get up, and go back to my house. In the bathroom next to my room, I wet a paper towel and wipe the small pieces of rock of my arms and knees. There’s only a few cuts, but it feels sore.

When I go back outside, they’re all playing again. They don’t even notice that I went inside, let alone go outside. They just go on and play. Even if I’ve been outside for at least ten minutes. As if I weren’t there at all. They just forgot me.

I feel my breath stuck in my heart, until I reach my room to sob once again.