Wednesday 5 May 2010

Threes and Nines.

I wiped my hands on my cheeks, leaving streaks of dust and dirt. I'm sure there's some poetic name for the color of centuries of dust mixed in with tears. If so, I don't know what it is.

You look even more tired. I didn't think it was possible.

Italic I'm doing my best.

You keep telling people that. Is anyone listening, princess?

Ask them.


I'm asking you.


I ignored him. I always come up with these questions late at night, and I wasn't about to let him steamroll me with his Jacob Knows Better routine. I've seen it before. I lived it for a while.

Not long enough.

What does it feel like to know that I'm two years older today than you will ever be? What happens when I'm old? Will you still be the same?

Am I the same?

No.


Bridget, why do you ask me questions you already know the answers to? Don't you trust your own answers?


Nope.


Why not?


Everything that can go wrong does, Jake.


Last night didn't go wrong.


You have a terrible way of showing up for events you're not invited to, mister.


That aside. Ben built you a bed. Then he drew a bath. Last night was nice for you. Right through to leaving the house.
Yes. And today is your birthday. Happy Birthday Princess. What did you ask for?

Sleep. Karma. Escape.


Any luck?


Nope.


Ask for something money can buy, then.

Money is evil.


Everything is evil, princess. Pick and choose. We've talked about this before.


It isn't fair, Jacob.


I know, baby. You're doing great thought.

Yes, please mollify me. I'm loving that.


Don't be ungrateful.


I'm telling you that's the last thing I am.


Then let it go.

I CAN'T.


Evil finds you then, princess.


So let it come.


You disappoint me, Bridget. I thought you were so tough.


I was but that's over now. Now I'm just me again.

The girl who doesn't like birthdays?

Yes. That's the one.