That's me in the yellow shirt, but those aren't prescription lenses.
It’s just this feeling that’s been creeping over me slowly. It’s something about the daily struggles of my family. They seem too canned. And they tie up so nicely. Here’s where my suspicions started:
- my brother, Henry, who is almost comically competitive, is always finding ways to be better than me. It’s always something physical that we can both perform at the same time. Also, these sorts of competitive storylines crop up a lot.
- Mom and Dad sit me down a lot after I have problems with school or girls. We have something that feels like a wrap up lesson and after that every situation’s pretty much resolved.
- If any of us says anything funny, no one really laughs. They just sort of pause for a couple seconds. Like someone else is laughing somewhere that I can’t hear. It’s creepy. There’s so much silence in my home.
I can’t say I don’t like it here. My family is happy. But it seems like we skirt real issues. I’ve never been to a funeral. I don’t know anyone with any good diseases. My sister, Piper, had a caffeine problem for a week when she had to take the SATs but Mom and Dad sure showed her. Dad started smoking and Mom started drinking a lot. The house was finally fun and it seemed like we were pushing the envelope a little but now no one does anything. I’ve decided to test the limits. My latest experiments:
- competitive Henry put up some tape between my bed and his to separate our sides of the room. Instead of giving in to the clichés, I decided to just stay in my own bed and soil my sheets. Conclusion: Mom and Dad were concerned for my mental health and I ended up spending the night in a rubber room. It didn’t seem like a logical jump but it definitely raised the stakes. The doctor was someone famous.
- our wacky neighbor, Wendell, is constantly barging through the front door. He never knocks and he always has crazy ideas. So when he came through the other day, I punched him in the face. I told my parents I’d been having dreams of people breaking and entering into our home. Conclusion: my parents bought an outrageous security system to put me at ease. Wendell forgave me and his nose, which I totally broke, was healed like he had witch powers.
- this cute girl that I’ve been eyeing at school, hinted that she wanted to go to the Winter Semi-formal. So I stabbed her in the hand with a ballpoint. Conclusion: I had to go to the principal’s office and meet with some guidance counselor about anger management. And then the ‘hot bad girl’ at our school totally wanted me. Which set off this series of one ups between Cute Girl and Bad Girl.
I can’t believe I’m crazy. When my family is in the living room, everyone talking sort of cheats left or right towards our front door. Like we’re presenting for someone else. My dad talks in this very obvious three joke patter. It’s always observation-little joke-big joke. And then pause. Other hackneyed things I’ve noticed:
- my grandma isn’t very three dimensional. She’s mostly just obsessed with sex.
- my dad is a loveable doofus.
- we always have huge meals but no one gains weight.
- we all look a little too attractive and without any family resemblance.
- if I destroy something in my house, it comes back. It is visually consistent.
- Dad’s work friends whom Mom doesn’t like are seriously tame.
- I always bust in on Mom and Dad about to kiss. They never finish.
- if I’m not doing something that day, somebody else has a crisis. But there’s never more than three crises going on at one time.
- I’m not getting older.
I don’t know who to send this to. I don’t know how to escape. I’m going to stand in the living room. Hold this message up to towards the wall we always cheat towards. I’d pray to a god to help me but we steer pretty clear of religion around my home. We must be a network show.
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