Page 38 of Organized Chaos
A speck of hope flickered at Mom’s rebuttal. Though Milo’s word was generally the law in our household, I reminded myself that Mom was the parent. Milo couldn’t throw her out.
“Maybe we all need to take a deep breath and a step back,” Raven spoke calmly. “Let’s just think rationally before jumping into rash decisions.”
“There is nothing to think about. My mind is made up.”
“Please, Milo,” I wailed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again; I’ll never skip school. Please don’t send her away.”
They ignored me, busy bickering amongst themselves.
“Come on, Milo,” Raven sounded sympathetic toward Mom’s plight. “Tearing this family apart isn’t the answer. We... we’ll just have to keep better tabs on each other from now on.”
“Exactly,” Reid agreed. “This won’t solve anything.”
“You can’t kick me out of my own house!” Mom screeched. “I’m not leaving. I’m not. I’m staying here with my children.”
“She didn’t even do anything,” I choked. “It wasmyfault. I stayed home because I wanted to see Brandon on TV.”
Yet again, no one heard me. Sitting in a room surrounded by my siblings, I had never felt more alone.
“Mom, this isn’t the first, second, or even the third time something like this has happened,” Milo only addressed Mom, ignoring everyone else. “I can’t take care of these kids if I’m constantly picking up after you.”
Milo closed the gap between them and spoke in a low voice that was difficult to make out.
“I love you, Mom,” he whispered. “But I need you out of this house. You know, as well as I do, that it isn’t good for them to be around you. They are watching you... your behavior... and it’s impacting them.”
The lack of fight remaining in Mom’s eyes activated my dreaded emotions. Or quite possibly, it was because everyone refused to hear my side of the story. Or perhaps I was angry at myself for skipping school to see Brandon on TV. But the most likely reason was triggered by the fear of loneliness.
Mom was the only person constantly available, no matter the time of day. Even if she weren’t lucid, at least she washere. This was truly a ghost house without her, and I couldn’t fathom the loneliness.
I started screaming hysterically, throwing limbs and objects alike. Everything in the vicinity suffered my wrath. The cups on the tray sitting on my nightstand met their end against the wall, crashing and burning. The pillows and heaps of blankets landed on the floor. I said awful, horrible things, things I could never take back.
Reid cursed out loud. Raven tried to shush me. Mom shielded herself with two hands in front of her face while Milo grabbed something off my desk.
I couldn’t see clearly; my vision was blurred, ears thudding, though I heard every instruction Milo vocalized.
“Raven, we have to leave for the airport in a couple of hours. Take Mom to her room and help her pack whatever fits in two check-in bags. I’ll send the rest of her stuff later.”
“No. Not a single argument, Mom. You have done enough.”
“Reid, find a broom. Grab some paper towels, too. And lose the damn attitude.”
I was hiccupping and wheezing from the lack of breathing. Milo never acknowledged my tantrums. Never tried to calm me down like Raven did. We had a drill of our own.
An inhaler was shoved in my mouth while a heavy book landed on the bed next to me. Milo patiently pressed down the top of the inhaler and waited for my breathing to normalize.
Minutes passed. My hiccupping subsided, and my hair was matted down. Out of nowhere, Milo grabbed the heavy book off the bed.
“I read a chapter in this book that I think might be relevant to something I’m going through. I have this professor I can’t stand. And after every one of his classes, I end up hitting the gym because it’s better to take it out on a punching bag than him.”
Predictable. Milo was baiting me with a posed hypothetical problem.
He tapped the hardcover of the book thoughtfully with an index finger. “I realized that I was exhibiting one of the behaviors listed here, but I can’t remember what it was. It’s been driving me crazy all day.”
“Good,” I chewed out resentfully.
“I think it was a type of defense mechanism,” he said casually.
I didn’t contribute to the conversation, feeling stubborn.
