Читать книгу Sleepwalking in Daylight - Elizabeth Flock, Elizabeth Flock - Страница 14

They always fight. They don’t think I hear it but I do. I’ve always felt like my parents adopted me thinking it might stop them from fighting.

For a long time I’d say “don’t fight” and that would be enough. They’d look at me and they’d remember the original purpose of me: to make them better. A little girl to bridge the gap between them. A trial child. Like when couples get a dog before they have a baby … to see if they can handle the responsibility. I’m their experiment. The thing is I don’t know how they could’ve thought they did a good enough job with me to move on to the real thing. They had Andrew and Jamie on purpose so obviously they figured they did something right with me. But really all they do is fight. I don’t know what that something right was.

I’d say “don’t fight.” I remember seeing my mom’s eyes fill with tears and I’d hug her to make it better. Then I started getting sent to my room or outside to play even though there weren’t that many kids my age on our block at the time. I was eight or nine maybe. They’d raise their voices, remember I was there and one or both of them would send me out of sight so I wouldn’t remind them their mission failed. Adopting me only made things worse between them. I was a walking reminder of the fact that they once had hope for something better. I was supposed to be that something better. I’d send me outside or up to my room, too, if I were them. I’m definitely not something better. I’m something worse.