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Look at Me: 500 Words a Day Fiction - Day 8 - kale & cigarettes
Look at Me: 500 Words a Day Fiction – Day 8

Look at Me: 500 Words a Day Fiction – Day 8

I got the call from my mom. She was crying. Crying doesn’t guarantee sympathy, she cried about everything. But this time I could see why.

My sister texted me a few minutes later. “You going?” That was it. We didn’t need to say much to each other, we actually got along.

I guess I had to go. I mean, I didn’t want to and in the end what can I really offer anyone back there? I am terrible at being there for people, I don’t even know what they need. Life moves forward, it’s not complicated.

But we all long for the moments when we get all the attention, no matter what the cost.

My phone rings again, it’s my other sister. I don’t even want to answer but I do.

“Hello?” I say like a question.

“You’re going to be there right?” Technically it was a question and requires a question mark but there was no upward trailing off of her voice at the end of the sentence.

“Jesus, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Good, because mom needs you. We’re a family.”

At this point I’m ready to start shit with her and go through the long list of reasons why we are the last thing that qualifies as a family but I decide to press END instead. A day like this deserves some amount of civility.

I would say my family is the type of family that does things because they are supposed to and never really because they want to. And I only do things that I want. Which makes me the asshole. Which also makes me the most functional and fulfilled. Which makes me more of an asshole. But this might be a case when I do something that I have to. Since that has been decided I will need to make it a little more enjoyable for myself.

I call back my mean sister.

“Hey, what is the breakdown for distribution of our inheritance looking like?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m trying to decide if I want to buy this old Porchse I’ve been eye-balling so I can drive it down to the house. I just don’t want to go too deep out of pocket.”

“You’re a real asshole you know that?”

“So I shouldn’t get it?”

“You should go fuck yourself.”

And that was done. I was already starting to feel better about the whole trip.

There was a moment though, seeing my mom, her heart was shattered and her eyes were just lost. I got choked up. A person should never hurt that bad. He wasn’t my favorite human but she loved him and he took care of her.

I am the only man left now and you might say it was my duty to look after everyone. But wouldn’t that be enabling their suffering? I could take this as a truly clean break, a reason to remove myself from the picture all together. I look at them crying, huddled up together covering each other in tears and I wonder if they are really sad or if they’re just happy they have finally gotten their moment when everyone has to pay attention to them.


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