Monday, November 7th, 2016

I’m curled up in bed, trying to hide myself from the world. Not that anyone is here to see me. Not that anyone cares to look at me. They don’t want to look at a freak like me.

I fuck up everything anyway, so it’s best to stay away from me as far as possible. I fucked up the one day that had to be flawless, all because Luke and Jimmy just had to pick today to step up their game a bit, taunting me by using my habits against me. Most of the days, they resolve in laughing at me, calling me names. Some days, they decide to provoke my panic-attacks and I hate them for picking this day.

To make matters worse, mom and dad sat me down when dad got back from hospital, telling me that Pyper has to stay over for treatment.

Pyper is fighting an autoimmune disease, shortly called Lupus. It developed early and two ears ago, a butterfly formed rash on her face was reason for concern when mom first took her to a doctor.

Nowadays, it’s mostly her lungs that suffer from the disease, causing acute Pneumonitis, which then caused scaring on her lungs.

I can’t help but feel like my shitty day, my lack of executing things the right way, caused the bad outcome of the tests they ran to see if medication was helping her in any way.

Then again, I would have been able to do things the right way, if Luke, Jimmy and Calo would’ve left me alone today.

If Mrs. Tilly would’ve listened to me.

If the principal wouldn’t have told me that I have detention on Friday, despite my mom trying to talk him out of it.

Bad behaviour needs to be corrected, according to principal Jerkhead Jameson.

I didn’t come up with that name, Jimmy did.

“Neo, sweety?” Mom’s voice sounds in a whisper behind me. “You have to eat something.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do, sweety.”

“I’m not leaving my bed.”

“Do you want me to bring it –”

“God no!” I call out in fear. “No, no, just leave. I’m fine.”

“No, honey, you’re obviously not.” She pulls away the cover, instantly meeting my tearstained face with her sad eyes. “I don’t want you to ever, for a second, think that Pyper’s health issues have anything to do with your bad days.” She moves to touch me, but one frightened look is enough to stop her hand mid-air.

“It is my fault mom!” I cry out. “I couldn’t do anything right and now look at what happened! It’s all my fault.” I grab hold of my hair, pulling it painfully hard as to sort of punish myself. “I hate myself. I hate it, I hate it…”

“Neo! Stop it.” Mom grabs my wrists, forcing me to let go of my hair. “It’s not your fault. The tests had been done two weeks ago, the outcomes don’t have anything to do with what happens to you.”

“But it’s true, mom! I haven’t had such a bad day in weeks. One bad day, once failing to do literally anything right, and all hell breaks lose.”

Mom shakes her head, cupping my face. “It’s getting worse again, isn’t it? Tell me the truth.”

“It’s not worse…”

“Neo?”

“Maybe a bit…”

“How about we make a new appointment with doctor Pelham? I told you it was too early to stop.”

“It’s not helping mom. He doesn’t know how to help me.”

“I think it was helping, it’s just baby-steps and off course you won’t see the results right away.”

“I don’t like him.” I push her hands off my face, turning away from her. “I’m not going back.”

I can hear her taking a deep breath, knowing she’s exhausted already after having to sit at home with me, waiting for any news about Pyper nervously.

Sometimes I think she wouldn’t mind if I wouldn’t be here. It would sure make their lives a whole lot easier.

“Okay sweety, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want. But then at least let me look into another doctor.”

Like that’ll help. They all failed to help me. Doctor Pelham had been the fourth doctor that I had therapy with, that wasn’t able to help me. Calm me down a bit? Yes. Help me? Not at all.

I know I will never completely heal. Things might get easier, things might get less obvious. But the thoughts will always be there. The feeling, the knowing what will happen, will always be there.

Today is just proving my point.

And as long as there’s going to be people like Jimmy, Luke, Calo, those who do not have a single clue of what it’s really like, who will taunt me, provoke me, bully me? As long as they exist, I won’t be able to move forward, to feel a bit normal.

“Fine,” is my simple response, knowing I have to at least stop working against my mother’s attempts to help me. She wants what best for me.

Then again, she wants what’s best for all of us; me to heal and stop controlling every aspect of our lives. She wants to be able to fully focus on Pyper’s needs, instead of being torn between a physically dysfunctional daughter, and a mentally dysfunctional son.

I bet my parents sometimes wish they would’ve never had children at all. It’s as if they’re cursed, and Pyper and I are the ones carrying the burden to punish them by torturing them with the disability to really help us.

I’m the oldest, nearing the age of seventeen, while Pyper just turned fifteen. But in between Pyper and me, there should’ve been two more kids. Mom was pregnant with another boy but had to end the pregnancy because he died while still in her womb. Oscar was born after merely five months. Then there was Pyper’s twin sister Ryann, who died two hours after birth due to underdeveloped lungs. They tried everything they could, but while treatment work with Pyper, her twin sister didn’t make it.

Which only adds to my trouble, because three times is a charm. Pyper was supposed to be my third sibling, not the first. And she was the only one strong enough to survive the curse that is affecting my parents’ ability to have children.

They wanted more, but let’s say, after Ryann died, they had to take a break and focus on us. But the time they were ready again, Pyper started having minor problems and the idea of another kid was put on hold.

They never started about it again because I guess they figured we are both dysfunctional in some way and a third kid would only add to the chaos.

They can divide over the two of us, a third would make it impossible.

By now, and probably caused by my lack of response, mom left the room again and I simply turn around, pull the cover back over my head and pretend to not be here for a while.

Everybody could use a break from me anyway.