It's always the same dream. I'm 6, handing my mother a paper with bright crimson red A and a circle around it.
"Mother, look at this. I did well, right?" I say with a childish glee you only have before the world forces you to grow up.
"Of course you did well!" My mother responds, her voice distorted. Distant. "My clever daughter." She whispers, a cold hand slowly resting on top of my head.
"My Julie. You're so sweet and clever." She whispers and I slowly look up as she bends to my level. Her eyes are blank and her face is bloody. A chill rushes through my marrows. The blood on her hand drips down the middle of my face and the world fades to black.
"…So why did you do it?"
I jolt awake, tears dripping down my face. I scramble up for my medicine, realizing im almost out. I open the bottle with eerily calm hands, turning it over and letting two small red pills fall onto my open palm.
"Ah…is this all that's left?" I whisper, my voice raspy with sleep. And slightly shaky.
Two soft knocks snap me out of my drowsy reverie and startle. Martha, our maid, gently peeks her head in with a soft smile. But not before I shove the drawer of my bedside table shut, hiding the pills in my closed fits.
"Miss, are you awake? Everyone is waiting for you." She smiles gently and it makes me feel out of place. Guilty.
"Yes. I'll head down right now, Martha. Thank you." I shoot her a small smile that quite didn't reach my eyes.
I drag my feet down the stairs after brushing my teeth. I hate mornings. I hate this house. I hate everything.
I step into our dinning room, my father sits at the table, eyes on his plate. While my older brother just stares at me. The silence is heavy, like the weight of a thousand pounds on my back.
"…Good morning." I mumble gently.
"Yes, Good morning." My father sighs before my brother quickly responds. "Good morning! Did you not sleep well? You look tired…"
His words are purposely slow, as if they're being dragged out of his mouth. He's taunting me. Playing the "concerned brother" in front of our father quite well. Congratulations.
"I slept fine." I murmur, shooting him a look that only makes him flash me that oily, smooth smile.
"Ah…you had that dream again. Nothing's changed, I see…" He fumbles the food around with his fork, staring right at me like he finds me eerily fascinating. But he pauses. And I know that look.
"Now that I think about it, Dr. Vance comes over today right? Has he been doing his job? You haven't gotten better at all."
There it is. Fucking prick.
I swallow hard, clenching the fork on my hand as if any moment now, I'll shove this fork on the side of his neck. Right where his pulse is throbbing. I just woke up, can't I get a second?
"Thanks for looking out for me." I shoot him a soft smile that's all too fake and much too hostile.
"Of course." He smiles back, his eyes crinkling like he's genuinely enjoying himself. But I know him. "I'm basically your real older brother, so I've gotta take care of you." He purrs.
Oh, I wish I could clap. He's playing this character splendidly. That look in his eye gives him away. He doesn't care about me, no. He wants to take over my father's company. Show my father I'm too unstable to do it myself.
"Well said, James." My father smiles proudly as if on cue. "As the oldest child, you should take care of Julie. And as for you.." he turns towards me, but I'm staring daggers at James. "You should get off that medicine before you graduate college. You can't be in therapy forever."
His words dig deep. Deeper than they should. I stay silent as my father drones on, all I'm staring at right now is James. He has his hand under his chin in a position that screams victory.
Everything goes his way. He's the guy who gained my father's trust after my mother died. My father's illegitimate son.
And he's staring at me so incredibly composed it's infuriating. I can see the amusement in his eyes, the sick thrill he gets from watching my father berate me. He feels like a man.
Even though I know his intentions are malicious…I have no choice but to give the answer my "brother" wants.
"Yes, I'm trying-" I respond quietly to my father, my voice so pathetically weak, it makes me want to throw up.
"Julie." My father interrupts. "I'm not telling you so you'll 'try'. The fact someone in my family is mentally ill…is a disgrace. Don't tarnish my name."
His words are cold and harsh, yet calmed. A warning. If I don't step in line, who knows what's going to happen?
"Yes, father." I smile weakly, staring down at my hands. Silence is the means to my survival in this place.
James and my father stand up, discussing something about a meeting they have to attend. I'm barely tuning in, trying so hard to hold in my tears instead. I'm an adult.
They leave, but not before James shoots me a look that makes my whole body tremble. Fucking asshole.
It's a household right out of a soap opera. To put it crassly, a total dysfunctional family.
My hands tremble as I lean forward on the table. "Miss, Dr. Vance has arrived." The sheer name makes my whole body him and my neck flush.
In this house where I have no one turn to…I have one pillar of hope. And that's Dr. Vance.