Just Me (570 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.9 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Saffron (View user info) at 2005-11-17 20:34:50 EST
Carl answered the door wearing a ratty bathrobe.
"Hey, is she in?"
"Ya." Carl lumbered back to his spot on the couch.
Greg walked into the apartment. It was freezing. Both of the front windows were open and the fresh winter air was bracing. She always kept the windows open, preferring to snuggle under a blanket than to shut them and run the heater. The house was clean at least, although he did notice a stack of pizza boxes next to the trash can. He took in every detail of the apartment. She was still posting roommate bills on the fridge.
"So what you up to these days, Carl ?"
"Nothing. Unemployed. " his eyes were fixed on the television.
"How long have you been unemployed ?"
"Long enough for the checks to stop coming, why?"
"You owe her two grand. She's still paying for a housekeeper. Don't you think you should at least be doing the household chores since she's covering your expenses?"
"I don't see how this is any of your business."
"She's sick Carl. And if you think I'm not going to keep an eye out for my sister, you're mistaken"
"She made well over six figures this year. It's not exactly a hardship, you know. I don't know why you guys all freak out and insist she's sick anyway. She goes to work everyday, she makes good money."
"Her income isn't the issue Carl. You're freeloading. And it's not like you guys are in a relationship, you're a roommate. "
"Fuck you Greg." Carl hiked the volume up.
"Sis?" Greg gave a light tap on the door to announce his presence as he turned the knob and entered. He was nearly knocked back by the thick smell of laundry. There was a mountain sized pile of black next to an even larger pile of sheets and towels. It looked like she hadn't done laundry in months.
"Hey..." a dream laden voice whispered, "what are you doing here?"
"Mom's worried and since I was working up here this week she asked me to drop in."
"Mom's always worried." She sat up, disrupting the cat who let out a small mew in protest. "I was just having a nap."
"Mom says you haven't returned her calls and you're not picking up your phone at work when she tries you there. She's worried. We're all worried."
"You guys worry to much. I've been really swamped at work. The acquisition has thrown a lot of things into chaos and I'm still doing a lot of fire fighting. I run all day, I come home, I eat and I fall asleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. It's not sexy, but that's the way things are for now." She grabbed her cigarette case from the dresser and headed towards the door. "Come on, let's sit on the fire escape."
Her legs were dangling off the edge; her head rested against the railing. It reminded him of when they were kids. She always had a dreamy quality to her. Everyone considered her an old soul, but he always saw a hint of lost mixed in. She had taught him to read, his multiplication tables, how to drive, she had made him cool by association in high school. Not that she was cheerleader popular, she just naturally stood apart from the herd. She had her own look, even when the gaggle of clones started circling her it was apparent that she was the first, the original, the lead.
When she was sixteen she had told Mom she wasn't going to be forced into going to church anymore. Mom's head had nearly popped off. They argued for what felt like days, and she never raised her voice, she just kept bringing Mom back to her 'faith can't be forced' argument. He smiled. The last time Mom had forced her to go to services the Pastor was covering homosexuality in his sermon. She simply stood up, made her way to the center row, faced the Pastor and sang,
"Jesus loves me this I know
For the Bible tells me so
No where does it 'hate gays'
No matter what that pastor says"
She walked out of the church. Her stunt resulted in therapy. In the end the therapist concluded she was suffering from depression and prescribed meds. Mom had only been concerned with whether she was gay or not, but now that she had an excuse to hang all of their differences on, she seemed satisfied.
"So what's the deal with Carl ? I thought you were going to buy a house ? Are you still looking to stay here in the city?"
"I stopped looking months ago. I'm just not ready to make that leap into a mortgage."
"So you keep renting a place that's probably costing you a much as a house payment, you have another in a long history of asshat roommates who sponge off of your good graces, and your money is just sitting there in savings doing nothing to secure your future ?"
"First of all, my rent, inclusive of the 'freeload factor' is less than a mortgage payment would be. Second, it's none of your business what I do with my finances. Why are you here anyway ? The entire family hounds me endlessly about my life, wrings their hands and gnashes their teeth at the thought of my living alone, 'with her depression, who knows what will happen !' I try to placate you guys but, I mean, you would think that fact that I have a good job, have been steady employed for over a decade - you know what, I don't need to defend myself or my decisions." She took a deep drag off her clove.
"God that smell just screams 80's. When did you start again?"
"I have two a day. I don't need a lecture on my health - physical or mental. I know Mom told you I stopped taking my meds. They made me feel like my brain was wrapped three feet deep in wool. They didn't round out the rough patches, Greg, they ground me smooth and I couldn't feel anything, couldn't think. Just go back and tell her I'm fine. I'm just busy with work."
"But you aren't fine. There's laundry piled up - "
"I told you I've been busy with work. I'm tired. Tell me Greg, you finally got a job, right ? Are you still living with Brandy? She owns that house, right, did her divorce finally go through ? You still going to Mom's every week to check in and get a little head pat of approval? I mean that's why I get the 'crazy girl' treatment for my choices and you get the 'good son' routine for really similar ones, right? "
"Hey wait -"
"No waiting. I've wasted enough years numbed out of my scull. I'm not clinically depressed, I'm just not the person you all think I should be. No one ever worried about what I wanted. Why do you think I moved here ? I'm far enough away not to worry about the constant drop in factor and close enough to get to the family in case of emergency. I respect each of you for the humans you are, why can't you afford me the same respect ?"
He put his arm around her. He loved her, her worried for her, he wanted them to have more than a "Christmas only" relationship and every year that got further and further out of reach.
"Greg, I need for you to believe, that even if all of you are right, and I'm not conceding the point, that there is nothing you can do to make me 'better'. I'm just me. Same old me that taught you how to drive and took you to your first concert. I'm just different, and that doesn't mean sick, or incapable or depressed. It just means different."
He sighed. "Gimme a drag of that would you ?"
User Reviews
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-02-17 17:28:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-12-02 19:41:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-11-18 05:13:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by PokeyPecker (user info) at 2005-11-17 23:49:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2005-11-17 23:30:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
apart from the last line this was lovely.
Submitted by DropItLikeItsDisgusting (user info) at 2005-11-17 22:40:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2005-11-17 22:21:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
sure, sure.
Submitted by Blinkish (user info) at 2005-11-17 21:12:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Kick ass
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2005-11-17 20:51:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Mexican Saffron, or real ?
Submitted by Whiplash (user info) at 2005-11-17 20:38:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment