My frustrated body slams into the huge front door, forgetting that it's usually locked. I sigh as I head to the garage door, animatedly punching in the code. "2-7-5-9". My finger slips as it pushes the 6 instead of the 9. Even something this small is enough to upset me today. The 30-second journey seems like an eternity, and then all entrances are finally in hindsight. "Hello?" Nobody home. Again. My feet loudly pound the wooden floor, even though I know no one can hear them. Eventually my hand grasps the smooth metal handle, and my eyes begin frantically searching for the familiar, large, silver bag. My treasure is found, and I let my muscles go limp as I sink into the comforting couch.
A chain of the bits of the rich chocolate begin to enter my mouth, always hungry for more, yet savoring each taste. The disappointments of the day begin to settle in as the tears stream down. I realize how trivial my worries are, but they still hurt, if only to me. My cell phone broke. One chocolate chip. That C minus on my paper in history. Two chocolate chips. She's mad at me for no apparent reason. Three chocolate chips. He's not talking to me. An overflowing handful of chocolate chips.
I grudgingly realize that I should feel lucky to have had any of these things in the first place, but I shun reasonable thinking, cuddling up next to my pity party. The chocolate chips slowly pry away my insignificant sorrow, but it's one certain memory that pushes it far, far away.
The day wasn't unlike today, all around dreadful. Today I had resorted to my room, the flannel blanket soft against my skin. My pillow was wet, which made me even more angry, because this does not happen often. I am not weak; I can hold my own. When this occasionally fails, it just makes me more upset. The silver bag was acting as my teddy bear, never-failing. I was past the worst part, recovering, the bag noticeably lighter. There's a knock on my bedroom door, and I let them know that they are not wanted. It seems that I've forgotten that I have a stubborn family, because I'm almost surprised when there's a body next to me. I make my best attempt to ignore it, but it's virtually impossible when your face is buried into their chest. He doesn't speak for a while, just holds me on his lap and rocks me back and forth. He knows what's wrong and doesn't bother asking. I am the first one to break the silence. "Ute, it isn't fair." My sobs have started again, a fail on my part to keep it together. However, my big brother doesn't fail me and lets me know, "You're right, you've just got to let them think that you don't care. You be the winner." But I don't want to be the winner, right now I'm enveloped in being the sulking loser. He knows that his words sunk in deep, unable to show on the surface right now. He lets me be, his sleeve becoming saturated, but the flow slowing. I regain my composure, and he looks me in the eyes. "You're okay. You're amazing, and I love you." My brother's rare show of emotion catches me off guard, and lends me enough confidence to regain myself at last. "Now keep it together, because I'm going to get some apple cake." Classic big brother. I snatch a handful of chocolate chips and join him downstairs.
Back on the couch, I glance over at that very same kitchen counter. Now, there's no six foot one teenager dominating the scene. Dominating now is the emptiness, Ute's mission call in my peripheral vision. He's in
Nekel, I wish I was there for some good after school times. Ute would be proud if he knew how much he meant to you. Chin up girl. You're more than you realize. Love you.
ReplyDeleteOh my Nekel, you freakin amazing writer. I just love you. And chocolate chips, but that's beside the point. Indeed, I would say that is rather reflective.
ReplyDelete