|Audrey "Aud" Carpenter (shyviolet) wrote in repose,|
@ 2020-01-22 09:26:00
|Entry tags:||*narrative, audrey carpenter|
WHO: Audrey and her family.
WHAT: Audrey tells her family about her plans to move, it doesn't go well.
WHEN: Around 6pm, the 21st.
WARNINGS: Some brief verbal abuse/gaslighting.
NOTES: This is definitely a different narrative format. I mostly relied on dialogue and very brief description for a staccato effect.
It was minestrone tonight.
It was one of his favorites.
He didn't say anything. Dad never did. Unless he didn't like it.
But Audrey was about to say something.
Time to break the silence between sips.
"Dad, mom...I've made a decision. I am moving. Moving out. In March."
Her father coughed after swallowing the broth of his dinner.
"No. You're not."
Firm as stone. A napkin brusquely wiped away the minestrone broth from thin lips.
"...y-yes. I am. I have been saving for a while, and I found some roommates who are very great peop--"
Snickering. From the twins. Of course. "Who would want to live with you?"
Heat seared her face. "...like I was saying, I'd have roomm--"
"I am 21 years old now, I am not a little girl--mom what do you--"
"Oh no, do not drag me into this. Boys, stop slurping please."
Slurp, slurp and a playful glare from mom.
"I am moving--"
Her father's spoon clattered in a now empty bowl. "You are, are you? You're so grown. You have have no idea how the real world works. You've been given everything. A house, good schools, we even let you take a year off of college for the move, which is completely ridiculous."
"I've been worki--"
"You can work and go to school. You can work, go to school and do what we ask of you here."
"But the twins don't even--!"
"Do not throw blame on the boys." Her mother was sharp as broken glass and rose from the table.
"So you have money saved up, and?" He continued.
"And it's enough to start. I pay for my own clothes already, I help pay for the food here, I do almost all of the chores, I cook, I clean, I take care of Zeus, I work and I will be going back to school---I will!" Heart sped up. "I pay for my own car, phone, everything I need, I have never asked for help and I am not asking for help now, just that you listen to me and understand that I need this, I am--"
"Who are they? These roommates? Who are they? What do they do? Where do they come from? How do you know them?" Her mother was behind her father.
"Now you're asking me these questions? You never cared before."
Instant regret. Not because it wasn't true, but the verbal assault that was about to come.
Audrey went rigid.
The napkin was thrown down. "Fine. Move. Leave. Your mother and I work so hard to provide for this family, and all we ask is you take care of things while we do so. That is all we have ever asked, and you act as though we have done nothing for you. That your life is so difficult because we expect chores to be completed and for you to take care of some things around the house. You want to move in with some strangers? Alright. Start packing. I want you out before I come home tomorrow."
The color drained from her face. "Dad, you can't be serious--" Panic. She had work tomorrow. She'd never make it. It was too much too soon.
"I am. Since we're so terrible. You're right, you're 20. An adult. An adult who has the backbone of a squid, a bottom feeder we apparently don't do enough for. Stupid. Embarrassing. Ungrateful. Spoiled. Unmotivated. You blame your siblings for being successful where you cannot. So be it. You pack and you make your own way, when that inevitably fails and you try to come crawling back you're not going to find an open door." The chair scooted. His feet stomped away into echoes.
A head shake. Audrey smelled her perfume. Musk. Her stomach hurt. Click, click, her shoes lead her away after dad.
Glances from the twins. They rose. They were gone too.
All that was left were dirty dishes at a long table and Audrey.