Your Voice Is Like A Prayer
My mom stopped me at the door as I walked in and beckoned me to tell her what was going on. It was rude, but I shrugged her off and almost subconsciously kept walking towards the basement. I opened the door and stepped down the stairs slowly, not even sure why because they didn't creek any softer if I did. Her head snapped up to look, and we both darted our glances away. I was fighting the turmoil inside me to scream, cry, and kick everything in the room until everything just went away. But I knew that wouldn't happen.
She glanced at me again with her eyes all puffy with tears, but she still looked all kinds of beautiful. And I was furious and miserable, but not all of me wanted to kick her out. Something in me wanted to tell her to drop her backpack and stay. Some part of me wanted to sweep her off her feet and kiss her like they do in those movies she loves, and I could be the best husband and dad in the world. But then revulsion sets in when I imagine that baby with a little half-assed mohawk and it sinks in that she's not mine. Neither of them are.
So I swallow the lump in my throat that’s building up and I fight all my urges.
I never knew someone could feel so much at one time.
She’s scrambling for her clothes now, and her movements are clutzy and nervous, unlike her usual graceful self. She always said I never noticed much about her, that I didn’t pay attention. But I don’t think that’s true. I picked up a lot on her, or at least I thought I did. Guess not since I was the last one to know that Puck was the father.
And there’s the last straw. My breaking point. All these thoughts in my head playing on overdrive and I can’t even get a single word out to her.
“Why did you lie?” I break the silence with anger in my voice.
And I kind of like how she pauses and her eyes look defeated, like I’ve broken the ice queen. But then it goes back to pity and hurt, because I don’t want her to be sad.
But I do.
I do. I do.
Right?
She sniffles cutely and closes her eyes.
“Because I made a mistake, with Puck. But I knew that if everyone thought it was you, it wouldn’t be that much of a mistake anymore. And I didn’t want to lose you,” she sobbed and hung her head down. “And I’m so…so sorry for lying and making you do all those things when it wasn’t your obligation.”
I heard an explanation and apology in her words but still nothing made sense. I processed the information in my brain and I got it, but nothing anyone could say could really make me stop wishing that all of this had never happened.
“I hope you and Puck have a happy family,” I say with bitterness.
As soon as the words leave my mouth I don’t understand why I said it. I don’t have to be so mean to her, although she deserves it. But it’s like my vocal chords formulate these sentences to shelter me from even more pain.
She gathers her remaining possessions and shuffles past me.
“Where are you going to stay?”
This time, I don’t regret saying it.
She turns around and I can see she’s at least a little bit happier than she was before.
“
Brittany’s,” she half-whispers.
And here we are, just standing next to each other because neither one of us knows what to say.
And I can’t hold it in any longer, because I don’t know when the next time I’ll be able to handle talking to her will be. So I step forward and she flinches like I’m going to hit her or something.
I crack what could be considered a smile in my state and wrap my arms around her.
Hers reach around my body instinctively and this isn’t some awkward-goodbye hug. This is an I’m-going-to-miss-you-so-much hug on both ends, because I know by tomorrow morning I’m going to go back to wishing she never existed, but right now I just can’t do that.
My t-shirt is wet with her tears, and her pretty blonde hair caught some of mine. I can feel her shaking and here comes the blended smoothie of emotions again.
We let go and avoid eye contact while she slings her backpack over her shoulder.
I’m waiting until she leaves so I can breakdown just a little.
She’s almost out the door, but she stops hesitantly and turns around.
“I really wish she was yours, Finn. More than you can imagine.”
She leaves without another word and I get that sinking elevator feeling all the way from my heart to the pit of my stomach. I hear the front door open and close, so I collapse on the bed, wanting to sleep forever, and it doesn’t help that the sheets smell just like her.
She glanced at me again with her eyes all puffy with tears, but she still looked all kinds of beautiful. And I was furious and miserable, but not all of me wanted to kick her out. Something in me wanted to tell her to drop her backpack and stay. Some part of me wanted to sweep her off her feet and kiss her like they do in those movies she loves, and I could be the best husband and dad in the world. But then revulsion sets in when I imagine that baby with a little half-assed mohawk and it sinks in that she's not mine. Neither of them are.
So I swallow the lump in my throat that’s building up and I fight all my urges.
I never knew someone could feel so much at one time.
She’s scrambling for her clothes now, and her movements are clutzy and nervous, unlike her usual graceful self. She always said I never noticed much about her, that I didn’t pay attention. But I don’t think that’s true. I picked up a lot on her, or at least I thought I did. Guess not since I was the last one to know that Puck was the father.
And there’s the last straw. My breaking point. All these thoughts in my head playing on overdrive and I can’t even get a single word out to her.
“Why did you lie?” I break the silence with anger in my voice.
And I kind of like how she pauses and her eyes look defeated, like I’ve broken the ice queen. But then it goes back to pity and hurt, because I don’t want her to be sad.
But I do.
I do. I do.
Right?
She sniffles cutely and closes her eyes.
“Because I made a mistake, with Puck. But I knew that if everyone thought it was you, it wouldn’t be that much of a mistake anymore. And I didn’t want to lose you,” she sobbed and hung her head down. “And I’m so…so sorry for lying and making you do all those things when it wasn’t your obligation.”
I heard an explanation and apology in her words but still nothing made sense. I processed the information in my brain and I got it, but nothing anyone could say could really make me stop wishing that all of this had never happened.
“I hope you and Puck have a happy family,” I say with bitterness.
As soon as the words leave my mouth I don’t understand why I said it. I don’t have to be so mean to her, although she deserves it. But it’s like my vocal chords formulate these sentences to shelter me from even more pain.
She gathers her remaining possessions and shuffles past me.
“Where are you going to stay?”
This time, I don’t regret saying it.
She turns around and I can see she’s at least a little bit happier than she was before.
“
Brittany’s,” she half-whispers.
And here we are, just standing next to each other because neither one of us knows what to say.
And I can’t hold it in any longer, because I don’t know when the next time I’ll be able to handle talking to her will be. So I step forward and she flinches like I’m going to hit her or something.
I crack what could be considered a smile in my state and wrap my arms around her.
Hers reach around my body instinctively and this isn’t some awkward-goodbye hug. This is an I’m-going-to-miss-you-so-much hug on both ends, because I know by tomorrow morning I’m going to go back to wishing she never existed, but right now I just can’t do that.
My t-shirt is wet with her tears, and her pretty blonde hair caught some of mine. I can feel her shaking and here comes the blended smoothie of emotions again.
We let go and avoid eye contact while she slings her backpack over her shoulder.
I’m waiting until she leaves so I can breakdown just a little.
She’s almost out the door, but she stops hesitantly and turns around.
“I really wish she was yours, Finn. More than you can imagine.”
She leaves without another word and I get that sinking elevator feeling all the way from my heart to the pit of my stomach. I hear the front door open and close, so I collapse on the bed, wanting to sleep forever, and it doesn’t help that the sheets smell just like her.