The trip on the airplane had done nothing to ease my anger. On the contrary, I found myself seething with rage. Walking up and down the wide street, looking at bushes that were too thick and grass that was to green, I could feel the weight of my anger seep into my footsteps.
I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why I came here in the first place. Staying far, far away would have been preferable. But no, of course I had to go. I just had to get myself worked up over this and risk giving myself high blood pressure.
From the shadow of a tree with a far too perfect bark and far too beautiful leaves, I observed the motions of the people inside apartment #2. Not expecting three of them, the tableau caught me a bit off guard.
A woman was preparing lunch in the kitchen; a much younger guy was sitting at the kitchen table. His mouth was moving, so I presumed they were having a conversation.
The woman turned around with some plates in her hands which she put on the table, while the guy was still talking. Gesturing wildly with his hands, the picture almost got the feel of a sit-com. Then his head snapped up and he smiled broadly up at someone.
The figure entered the scene smiling back at the younger guy, before walking over to the woman and placing a kiss on her cheek. The woman beamed. I scowled.
Standing on the outside, I felt my life being reduced to the sit-com I just thought I’d witnessed. This was evidently real; the living, breathing, smiling, talking and eating subjects being proof of that
I wanted to shatter it to pieces. If I couldn’t have my real life, then neither could they. That man had traded my family for this one, like one would baseball cards. I was his daughter, but there sat his son. He had moved as far away from me as possible.
I took the brick that had resided in my stomach and sometimes on my heart, and held it up in both hands. Taking a few steps back, I raised my right arm above my head. I ran, swinging my arm to the front again and released the brick when I felt it had built up enough momentum.
Three startled faces watched the shattered glass on the kitchen table. Lies spilling into the open air.
***Although this is a work of fiction it approximates my feelings on the matter pretty well.***
