home he avoided Dawn as much as possible. He didn’t even like being in the same room with her. In the back of her mind there was a voice telling her that things hadn’t always been this way.
He used to like her, or so she believes. Perhaps her subconscious could recall those days. Dawn couldn’t. For as long as she could remember her dad had simply tolerated her, much like her mother did.
Their looks of disappointment were only cast her way when they thought she wasn’t looking. Unbeknownst to them, she was always looking, hoping they would notice her, hoping they would finally start paying attention to her.
So far it hadn’t happened. Sometimes she felt more like an unwanted pet than a person. She was present, but not needed. Taken care of, but not loved. If she got in the way they simply moved her to the side or ordered her to her room.
They provided her with a roof over her head and put food on her table, but that was about it. She’d never been hugged when she was sick, cuddled at bed time or praised for her accomplishments. Tears sprang to her eyes.
They didn’t fall. They never fell. They departed as quickly as they came, another anomaly of hers that caused her parents to treat her differently. This feeling of sadness always happened when she thought of the way her parents treated her.
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so badly if she wasn’t aware of the way other parents treated their children. Every day after school she watched the carpoolers run to their parents’ cars, smiling, happy to be going home. Their parents smiled back at them, asking them how their day went.
Her parents rarely questioned how her day went and when they did, it was only to fill the awkward silence in the car. Other parents left notes for their children in their lunch boxes. Suzie’s mom even drew hearts on Suzie’s snacks.
Suzie always grinned when she opened her box and she always held up her snacks for everyone to see the cute picture her mother had drawn on it. Dawn wanted to grin when she opened her lunch box.
It would be nice to have cute hearts drawn on her fruit snacks. She wanted people to know that her parents loved her. Was it wrong for her to want her parents to treat her the way other parents treated their kids?
She’d give anything to feel something other than the dark fear and sadness she always felt. But praying for that was like praying for the moon to turn pink. It was never going to happen. Turning to stare out the window, Dawn blinked back tears that wouldn’t fall even if she wanted them to.
And she didn’t want them to. There was no point in crying over spilt milk. That’s what her grandmother always said. Her granny also said that one day her parents would pay for how they treated her.
Her granny claimed that the spirits always watched over the elderly, the simpleminded and children… whatever that meant. Thinking of her grandma brought a smile to Dawn’s face. Her granny was the best.
Too bad she lived one state over in Louisiana. Dawn couldn’t wait until summer came so she could spend it in New Orleans with her grandma, away from the confusing stares of her parents. When she was with her granny she always felt loved.
Her grandma had a way of making her smile even when she didn’t want to. The small house her granny lived in always smelled of sweet potato pie. And even though Dawn rarely had an appetite, she made sure she ate a huge slice of pie because she knew it made her granny happy.
A movement outside the classroom window distracted her from her thoughts of pies. Her eyes darted to the right where a row of newly planted rose bushes lined the sides of the walkway. She froze.
It was happening again. Closing her eyes, she prayed for it to go away. When she opened them the vision was still there, staring at her. Closing her eyes again, she repeated the words her psychiatrist told her to say whenever this happened.
“She’s not real,” Dawn said under her breath.
She repeated the
He used to like her, or so she believes. Perhaps her subconscious could recall those days. Dawn couldn’t. For as long as she could remember her dad had simply tolerated her, much like her mother did.
Their looks of disappointment were only cast her way when they thought she wasn’t looking. Unbeknownst to them, she was always looking, hoping they would notice her, hoping they would finally start paying attention to her.
So far it hadn’t happened. Sometimes she felt more like an unwanted pet than a person. She was present, but not needed. Taken care of, but not loved. If she got in the way they simply moved her to the side or ordered her to her room.
They provided her with a roof over her head and put food on her table, but that was about it. She’d never been hugged when she was sick, cuddled at bed time or praised for her accomplishments. Tears sprang to her eyes.
They didn’t fall. They never fell. They departed as quickly as they came, another anomaly of hers that caused her parents to treat her differently. This feeling of sadness always happened when she thought of the way her parents treated her.
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so badly if she wasn’t aware of the way other parents treated their children. Every day after school she watched the carpoolers run to their parents’ cars, smiling, happy to be going home. Their parents smiled back at them, asking them how their day went.
Her parents rarely questioned how her day went and when they did, it was only to fill the awkward silence in the car. Other parents left notes for their children in their lunch boxes. Suzie’s mom even drew hearts on Suzie’s snacks.
Suzie always grinned when she opened her box and she always held up her snacks for everyone to see the cute picture her mother had drawn on it. Dawn wanted to grin when she opened her lunch box.
It would be nice to have cute hearts drawn on her fruit snacks. She wanted people to know that her parents loved her. Was it wrong for her to want her parents to treat her the way other parents treated their kids?
She’d give anything to feel something other than the dark fear and sadness she always felt. But praying for that was like praying for the moon to turn pink. It was never going to happen. Turning to stare out the window, Dawn blinked back tears that wouldn’t fall even if she wanted them to.
And she didn’t want them to. There was no point in crying over spilt milk. That’s what her grandmother always said. Her granny also said that one day her parents would pay for how they treated her.
Her granny claimed that the spirits always watched over the elderly, the simpleminded and children… whatever that meant. Thinking of her grandma brought a smile to Dawn’s face. Her granny was the best.
Too bad she lived one state over in Louisiana. Dawn couldn’t wait until summer came so she could spend it in New Orleans with her grandma, away from the confusing stares of her parents. When she was with her granny she always felt loved.
Her grandma had a way of making her smile even when she didn’t want to. The small house her granny lived in always smelled of sweet potato pie. And even though Dawn rarely had an appetite, she made sure she ate a huge slice of pie because she knew it made her granny happy.
A movement outside the classroom window distracted her from her thoughts of pies. Her eyes darted to the right where a row of newly planted rose bushes lined the sides of the walkway. She froze.
It was happening again. Closing her eyes, she prayed for it to go away. When she opened them the vision was still there, staring at her. Closing her eyes again, she repeated the words her psychiatrist told her to say whenever this happened.
“She’s not real,” Dawn said under her breath.
She repeated the
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