Lilith, Brent, and Juliana seem like average kids, all on different levels of the social ladder. Lilith being the bottom, Brent being the top, and Juliana on her way up. Being preacher's kids is tough, their expected to be naturally "good". But they wear the masks well on Sunday's. Underneath the exterior's are the hearts of the broken. What will it take for them to crack, and their entire world to shatter?
I woke to the sound of them screaming. Dad was yelling something about Mom not pitching in.....I rolled my eyes and swung my feet over the side of the bed. I stretched, opened my blinds and welcomed in the sunlight. The soft yellow of the interior of my room brightened along with the sunshine. Time for another day of living hell. I shook my head. I can't start thinking like that this morning. Monday's are always the worst, just get through it.
We put on the happy-go-lucky face for Dad's congregation on Sunday's, then let it all fall down on Monday's. Awesome cycle. It drove me crazy. All these church girls thinking I'm so perfect being the preacher's daughter, then Dad would lecture me on the way home on how I should smile more. I tried to ignore him, but it was hard when he looks in the rearview mirror and asks if I'm listening to him. And if I say no, he is in an even more peeved off mood.
I stumbled out of my room, looking across the hall at my brother and sister's rooms. They would still be asleep. I always was easier to wake up than them. I cautiously walked into the kitchen.They aren't here. Good. I opened the fridge and shifted my weight from one foot to another. I finally grabbed cream cheese and made a bagel. Grabbing a glass of milk I skidded into my room, careful to be quiet.
They had quieted down a little, but I could hear the irritation grating in the voices. The dead silence was sometimes harder to take than the screams. At least something was happening with the screaming but with the silence came tension. With tension came the anxiety I always get when there's tension. My philosophy was to blend into the shadows. Don't say anything, don't do anything to stick out. It works better that way.
I stood in front of my closet. The clothes were divided by color, then season. I pulled out a pair of ripped up jeans and a red short-sleeved shirt. It was always hard to choose what to wear, I mean who was I even dressing to impress for? No boy had eyes for me. It doesn't even matter. I let the shower water pour over my face and started to try not to expect the worse. I apathetically put on my clothes and looked into my light green eyes. My pale skin and freckles were hardly attractive. My dark brown stringy hair opposed to my sister's was ugly. I shrugged. I had tried to change myself. They only laughed. I cried hard that day, but nobody saw and even if they had nobody would have cared. Don't go to far into the memories. It doesn't matter anymore.
Wiggling into my clothes I looked into my full length mirror. I hated the reflection. It doesn't even matter Lillith! There's no reason to try to look pretty, nobody even cares! I wasn't anorexic or anything. I just wasn't beautiful. There's no reason trying to change who I was because nobody gave me a second glance. Rolling my eyes at my reflection, I looked at my clock.
I still had thirty minutes until we had to leave. I looked at my bedstand, and there sat the Bible Dad and Mom had given me for my tenth birthday. Some part of me wanted to read it. But the other part of me wanted to throw it underneath my bed, never to see it again. I could hear murmurs coming from sis's room. Other than that it was quiet. I grabbed my backpack and sat down in front of the TV. Dad strolled in like nothing was wrong, the newspaper under his arm."Morning Dad." His deep brown eyes didn't look up from his reading as he nodded at me. Nodded at me. He went out the front door and got into the car. I watched him leave. I ignored the ache growing in my throat.
Whatever. Life goes on.