Young Annabelle (13 page)

“Hurry up,” she said, getting up and heading
to the living room.

“Why are we going in there?” I followed
slowly.

“Because I want to do this here,” she
answered. She bent behind the couch and I heard her pick up
something heavy.

“Do what here?”

She pulled out a white digital scale. I
stared down at the brand new mean-machine in horror.

Where the hell did she get that? And
why?

“Mom, you know we already have a scale
upstairs,” I said slowly, hoping it was all a big mistake; maybe
she thought my scale was broken.

“That’s your scale, this one is mine. I’ll be
using this one from now on to log your weight each week,” she
explained happily. She placed the scale on the ground in front of
me and tapped it. “Go on.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” I didn’t
move. “I’m not going on that thing, I weighed myself upstairs
already.”

“Anna, I need your weekly results to be as
accurate as possible. For all I know, you’ve been lying so far,
telling me what I want to hear,” Mom explained, sounding like she’d
had no choice but to take matters into her own hands. “When I look
at you, it doesn’t seem like you’ve actually lost any weight.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” I asked slowly.
I felt my fists clench, my knuckles bulged. I was mad.

This woman…she’s finally done
it now…lost her marbles… Well I won’t stand it for it
anymore!

My time weighing myself was supposed to be
private. It was for no one to see but myself. I explained this to
them in the beginning.

I shook my head, “I’m not getting on that
thing.”

“Get on the scale, Annabelle! I won’t ask you
again,” Mom warned angrily. She was probably even angrier with me
for taking all the fun out of weighing me herself. Finally taking
matters into her own hands and here I was ruining her shining
moment.

“No!” I repeated even louder.

She could warn and threaten all she wanted, I
wasn’t stepping on anybody else’s scale, not unless they were a
doctor or the nutritionist and even that was done in private – I
loved making Mom wait in the hallway during appointments.

Damn it, I had rights in that office; I’ll
be damned if I don’t have the same rights here!

“Mom, where are you?” I heard Katherine yell
from the top of the stairs.

“The living room, sweetie!” Mom yelled
back.

I glanced up at the living room entrance just
as Katherine sauntered in wearing her black leotard and pink
tights. She was skinny but she was also only eleven. With her blue
eyes and light brown hair, she’d gotten Mom’s traits while I’d
gotten most of mine from Dad’s side of the family: dark brown hair
with the odd light strand and caramel-colored eyes. Although,
strangely, Dad had the same blue eyes and dark blond hair that Mom
did. If I wasn’t the same height as Mom and looked identical to
Dad’s grandma, then I would have thought I was adopted for sure. I
was nothing like any of them, in physicality or personality.

“Why are you yelling, Annabelle?” Katherine
asked in her cute-little-girl voice, stopping next to Mom who
wrapped her hair into a high bun.

“Annabelle doesn’t want to weigh herself in
front of me,” Mom explained to her, clearly exasperated as she took
the bobby pins out of Katherine’s hand and secured the bun. I
didn’t know why she was telling Katherine any of this; she was just
a little kid.

She wants to tag-team
again
,
I thought, paranoid. I scowled
at the pair of them for thinking they could go against
me.

We’ll see who the victor will
be this time!
I mentally
pumped myself up.

Two of them against me. The new me who
wouldn’t curl up into a ball and surrender. No, she’d take them
both by the throat and toss them into oblivion.

Katherine looked back and forth between Mom
and me. She looked cute in her little outfit; it made me think,
very briefly, of when she first began dancing at the age of five.
She was actually a sweet little sister back then. I hadn’t felt
affection like that for her for the last two years.

It’s Mom, she’s the one filling Katherine
with all this hatred for me. Making her think that being a little
overweight is the worst thing in the world!

“I’ll weigh myself in front of you, Mommy,”
Katherine offered, sugar dripping from her voice.

That little sneak! Goody two
shoes! Always brown-nosing!
The vicious thoughts spewed as Katherine stepped onto the
scale. She didn’t look cute anymore.

Katherine glanced up as she read her results
to Mom. “I weigh 85 pounds, Mom. Is that okay?” she asked
worriedly.

Oh God! Mom better say she’s at
a good weight.

I glanced between Mom and Katherine. Mom
smiled affectionately at her little girl and caressed the side of
her face as she stepped off the scale.

I’d never get that from
her…
I was immediately
depressed.

“Darling, you’re perfect,” she gushed as she
pulled my sister into a big momma-bear hug and kissed her on the
cheek. Katherine stepped away and grinned at me, silently saying
‘There!’

Oh little sister, how I love
these unspoken moments between us.

As Katherine sat on the couch, Mom turned
back to me, her face transitioning from sweet to scowling in a
second.

“You see, Annabelle, it wasn’t so bad,” she
scolded.

I’m not stepping on that thing
in front of you!
I
silently screamed at her.

I shook my head. “I’m not doing it,” I told
her firmly, folding my arms across my chest.

“Why do you insist on making things
difficult?” Mom sounded really frustrated now. She sat down on the
couch, crossing her legs and looking up at me like she was tired of
it all. I was sure she was thinking, ‘this girl’s attitude is
horrible.’

“Yeah, Annabelle.” I heard a chuckle from
behind me. I turned around just as Charles walked into the living
room and joined Mom and Katherine on the couch. “Why do you make
things so difficult?” He repeated Mom’s argument with a sneer.

Nice to see you too, little brother, perfect
timing as usual.

“Mind your business, Chuck,” I warned using
the name he loved.

His head jerked up and he gave me a dirty
look.

“Don’t call your brother that,” Mom rebuked.
“Charles is not Chuck.”

“Then you tell him to mind his business and
not to laugh at me like a rude little snot.”

“Annabelle! Apologize now!”

“No, he started it.”

“Don’t be a child, apologize now!” she
ordered.

“How about…NO!”

Dad suddenly barged in. “What’s going on in
here? I can hear everyone from upstairs!”

“Annabelle, will not weigh herself in front
of me,” Mom explained with a sigh.

“Annabelle called me Chuck,” Charles added,
like it actually bothered him what name I had used.

Bullshit!

Dad turned to me, shaking his head. “Jesus
Annabelle, this is how you wake everyone up this morning, with that
horrible attitude of yours…” He sounded more disappointed than
anything.

My attitude?!

I was taken aback. He hadn’t even seen what
happened and he was already taking everyone else’s side.

Traitor!
I looked at him with disgust. I could feel
the beginnings of my inner hurricane spilling out; I knew at any
moment my face would start going red. They’d pushed me too far now;
I was beyond control.

And I know exactly who’s to
blame!

I ignored Dad and turn back to Mom, disgust
written across my face.

“Are you happy?” I asked curtly, my voice
low.

“What are you talking about?” She looked
bewilderedly between Dad and I. Charles and Katherine’s smirks fell
from their faces and they sat back quietly.

Smart,
I thought as I narrowed my eyes at them
accusatorily.

“Are you satisfied? Every single person in
this family despises me, thanks to you!” I yelled.

Mom eyes widened. She looked like her head
was going to explode from my accusations.

“That is outrageous, how dare you say that to
me!” she yelled back, getting off the couch.

“It’s not outrageous!” I retorted. “How come
I’m always attacked, huh? How come my little brother and little
sister always treat me like shit?” I flung my hands towards the now
quiet twosome.

“Annabelle,” Mom muttered, speechless.

I continued scowling at her, my back to
still-silent Dad.

“You have an explanation why my baby sister
looks at me like I’m a joke? Or do you know the reason why my
little brother antagonizes me every chance he gets while you guys
sit back and watch? I’ve never done anything to you guys to deserve
this shit!” My voice was getting hoarse. I was on the cusp of a
meltdown, right in front of my entire, disrespecting family. The
room stayed silent, no one said a word.

Well, fuck you all!
I thought, trying to distract
myself from falling apart in front of them. I could feel my eyes
welling up but I took a deep breath and blinked it back. I had to
get out of this room before I really lost it.

I felt the frustrated tears officially
announce their arrival and this time they were here to stay. I
couldn’t pull them back; when they wanted to spill, they did so
freely.

I ran from the room, the first tear spilling
as I hit the bottom of the staircase. No one called me to come
back. No one shouted that they were sorry.

And I didn’t expect anything less, not from
them. They were all selfish fucks! I couldn’t wait for the moment
when I could leave and never to have to see their disgusting,
traitorous faces again.

When I reached my room, my face was wet with
tears. I slammed the door shut with all my might, hoping I’d break
it. I paced frantically, holding my arms together to stop them from
shaking.

I should have taken that scale and thrown out
the window! Smashed it to pieces! A new window would have hurt
their pockets, for sure!

I shook my head and laughed deliriously at
the thought.

Then I’d be sent to the loony bin. They’d
like that, me under 24/7 surveillance, controlled and out of their
hair.

I stopped pacing my room; I suddenly felt
like I couldn’t breathe.

I had to get out this house. Now!

I quickly changed out of my pajamas and
put on a pair of skinny jeans with a long black t-shirt that was a
little tight. I grabbed a navy blue sweater-jacket off the ground
and shoved it into my backpack along with my phone, keys, and
wallet. I shouldered my backpack and headed to the bathroom where I
applied deodorant and ran a comb through my hair, putting it up in
a high ponytail. I washed the tearstains from my face, hoping it
didn’t look too distraught. I glanced up at the mirror,
Good!
I approved of my reflection
then stormed down the stairs, making as much noise as
possible.

“Where do you think you are going?” Mom’s
hoarse voice yelled from the living room. “We’re not finished
here.”

I grabbed a pair of black slip-on converse
sneakers. “Going out now, bye,” I called.

They all stared, dumbfounded, from the living
room.

I opened the front door, shoes in hand, and
fled, closing the door before they had a chance to demand something
else or accuse me of being rude.

Yeah, I’ll be back later…much
later…maybe never!

I sat down on the curb to put my shoes on.
I’d probably looked like a fool leaving my house carrying my shoes,
backpack bouncing around – like a runaway.

Believe me, I’m almost there. I
could be a runaway… I
am
a
runaway, or I will be sooner rather than later if they keep this
harassment up.

I stood and headed down the sidewalk. I
didn’t know where to go but anywhere, even just strolling up and
down the sidewalk was better than being trapped in that hell house
for another minute. It was peaceful and quiet outside. The birds’
chirping wasn’t going to give me a headache like those four back
home would.

*****

By the time I’d reached the nearest park,
I had calmed down a bit. I sat on the first bench I came to and
plopped my backpack down beside me. I pulled out my phone and
discovered I had three missed texts. I must not have heard my phone
beep through all the shouting. I pushed the message button and saw
that one of the messages was from Mom, sent just a few minutes ago.
The other two messages were from –
sigh –
James. The first was from midnight last night. I instantly
regretted turning my phone off last night to let it charge. A late
night text session with James would have been something to stay up
for. I checked his next message and was happily relieved that it
had only been sent ten minutes ago.

Glee!

Should I do good messages, bad (Mom)
message? Good…bad…good… good…?

I tapped on Mom’s message first, thinking it
would be best to get rid of the bad first.

From: Mom

Your father and I realize you may need some
time to cool off. We give you permission to spend some time outside
and reflect. If you will not be back for lunch, please say so. And
please eat something healthy and low calorie. Please be responsible
with the independence we’ve generously allowed you to have. Love:
mom and dad.

How do you give someone
independence?
I
contemplated as I stared at the message. I read the message for a
second time, feeling my mouth go dry and my body start to shake. I
mentally gave them both the finger.