The Veneer
You are a dog she sneered. And in that moment, She slew my father's pride.
I had a dream. When my brother married Her. I walked into their room, palms sweaty, head pounding like crazy. There were body bags inside the tiny closet. I called the police and ran to meet them outside. Sir, you have to come see. She's done it. I insisted. They smiled at me as though I needed to be coddled. The body bags had disappeared, as if I had imagined it all along.
She never raised her voice at us. But always, in the middle of the night, in the silence of their car, in the moment she chose to deny my brother his marital rights, the purple shades would grow. Slowly. The lies, the taunts, the sneers, the pains. He loves her.
My mother can also slay people's prides. She learned from Father's mother. Yes, dear Daughter-in-Law. We are dogs. Haven't you noticed? Perhaps you were so blinded by love, you couldn't tell – and bathed yourself in dog's blood, giving birth to four little dogs. You're human. Your mother's human. Your brother's human. It's a shame that despite their human eyes, they couldn't keep you from marrying a dog. You should have married a human. But now, you're stuck with four little dogs. You've given yourself to a dog. Who would want you now?
There was no answer. And my parents left. Mother has never gone back to their house.
She was the sister I thought I always wanted. Soft-spoken, gentle smile, always saying the right things. Nothing we ever did could compare to her skills. If I killed and plucked 3 chickens, she killed and plucked 10. If I made a meal fit for a Prince, she made a meal fit for a King. She was a fashionista and always watched her weight. I adored shopping with her and borrowing her clothes.
Then it all crumbled. Over time. The illusion started to fade.
My baby brother was only 1 when she married into the family. Pregnant herself, she glowed with motherly love in our presence. Her gentle hands caressing his shiny golden locks. Her loving smile at his baby talk. Father came home early from work. Loud music played in the house. Quietly, he made his way inside and saw his youngest son in the baby walker. Just as he started to wave, she yanked the walker and pushed it across the room. She turned around. Surprise, she saw him. He stared at her. Who was she? The toddler was crying. She quickly ran,
picked him up in her arms, and cooed at him calmly. We were playing, she said. My father nodded.
I had a dream. When my brother married Her. I walked into their room, palms sweaty, head pounding like crazy. There were body bags inside the tiny closet. I called the police and ran to meet them outside. Sir, you have to come see. She's done it. I insisted. They smiled at me as though I needed to be coddled. The body bags had disappeared, as if I had imagined it all along.
She never raised her voice at us. But always, in the middle of the night, in the silence of their car, in the moment she chose to deny my brother his marital rights, the purple shades would grow. Slowly. The lies, the taunts, the sneers, the pains. He loves her.
My mother can also slay people's prides. She learned from Father's mother. Yes, dear Daughter-in-Law. We are dogs. Haven't you noticed? Perhaps you were so blinded by love, you couldn't tell – and bathed yourself in dog's blood, giving birth to four little dogs. You're human. Your mother's human. Your brother's human. It's a shame that despite their human eyes, they couldn't keep you from marrying a dog. You should have married a human. But now, you're stuck with four little dogs. You've given yourself to a dog. Who would want you now?
There was no answer. And my parents left. Mother has never gone back to their house.
She was the sister I thought I always wanted. Soft-spoken, gentle smile, always saying the right things. Nothing we ever did could compare to her skills. If I killed and plucked 3 chickens, she killed and plucked 10. If I made a meal fit for a Prince, she made a meal fit for a King. She was a fashionista and always watched her weight. I adored shopping with her and borrowing her clothes.
Then it all crumbled. Over time. The illusion started to fade.
My baby brother was only 1 when she married into the family. Pregnant herself, she glowed with motherly love in our presence. Her gentle hands caressing his shiny golden locks. Her loving smile at his baby talk. Father came home early from work. Loud music played in the house. Quietly, he made his way inside and saw his youngest son in the baby walker. Just as he started to wave, she yanked the walker and pushed it across the room. She turned around. Surprise, she saw him. He stared at her. Who was she? The toddler was crying. She quickly ran,
picked him up in her arms, and cooed at him calmly. We were playing, she said. My father nodded.
posted by Lishtar at
10:55 PM
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