Glass Half Empty --> An Official Update!
Chapter 1 - Emilia
“Memories whisper like leaves in the breeze.”
My breathing is heavy as I run through the hip-hop routine again.
5, 6, 7, 8.
The music beats through my body, and the tempo speeds on. I move, twist, spin, flip, and go until the mix finishes. The dance studio is hot, even though it’s late into the evening.
“That was incredible!” A loud voice booms excitedly in the dance room as a teammate comes over from playing the music at the speaker.
“You like it? Is it good?” I rattle off.
“Emilia, you will ace your CAPSTONE project!” She grabs my forearms and squeezes slightly. “You got this!”
A deep breath and release help me focus on her denim blue eyes. I sigh as I turn away from the redheaded girl. My thoughts run rampant on everything and nothing at once.
“Mia, can you record this time for me?” I walk over in front of the studio mirrors, settle into position, and wait… each breath prepares me for the thrill I’m about to feel.
Mia gives a high thumbs-up, “Got it! Let me get my tripod, give me one sec.”
She skips to her bag and grabs the collapsible camera tripod. She’s in her influencer era, and vlogs nearly all of her dance classes she leads. As she turns and walks back toward the front of the mirror, her foot gets caught on herself, and she trips, falling slowly to the floor.
I’m left amazed at how she accomplished such a task.
Then a large laugh bursts from my lips. “How in the world did you do that?” I’m down on the floor, my stomach cramping, and I can’t help but laugh for what feels like five minutes straight. “For being a dancer, you sure are clumsy.”
“Ha. Ha. Laugh all you want, and I won’t be one of your dancers.” Her eyes narrow as her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Her words slice through the loud laughter, slicing me across the face.
Sitting up abruptly, I hold in the final chuckle. “Sorry, I promise I was kidding.” Making a heart with my hands, I plead with my eyes. “You know I love and appreciate you.”
“That’s what I thought.” She huffs as she positions the camera, making sure I’m centered, before dramatically limping back to the large speaker in the back of the room.
The music starts, and I lose myself, a blur as I invest my full self into the routine. It’s been three years since I returned, yet I’ve forced myself to avoid thinking about the person I’ve left behind, the eyes that once cared for me, now a painful piece of my imagination. Yet, anytime I think of them, my dancing gets better. The past words of praise fuel my body as I move. My thoughts zero in on the figure dancing in the mirror, my focus only on perfection.
The campus grand clock strikes at 11pm after we wrap up filming and editing. The weather is a cool 60 degrees with the scent of fall in the air. My curly hair is piled up into a pineapple at the top of my head, my sweater is unzipped halfway, and grey sweats are covering my black shorts.
“Great work tonight!” Mia applauds me as we stop by the bench right outside the studio. I plop down to slow my heartbeat, taking a long chug of water.
“Thanks so much for your help!” I’m catching my breath as Mia yanks me off the bench and pulls me along.
“Let’s head out before it gets too late.” Mia is on high alert; her red curls bounce in her high ponytail as she looks all around.
The campus is poorly lit, with shadows that dance, making our hair stand on end. Classes are in full swing for the fall semester, so voices can be heard echoing off the buildings and surrounding trees.
As we make a beeline to Mia’s car, I’m lost in the spew of text messages my younger sister berated me with while I was away at practice.
Dad fell again.
Don’t worry I got it.
Geez, you can’t even respond back?
Whatever it’s not like you help me anyways.
You always chose YOU over everyone.
Dude wtf! This is freaking serious. Call. Me. BACK!
My shoulders heave as I quickly press redial. Voicemail tone. I dial a few more times with no response. Squeezing my phone, I nearly shout out before Mia’s voice breaks my concentration.
“Earth to Emi! Emilia! Dude, what is up? I’ve been calling your name since we left.”
Mia stops at the crosswalk to the parking lot. Her car is one of the few in the distance, the streetlamps glowing yellow with a low hum. She turns and crosses her arms.
“I missed a call from my sister.” Taking a deep breath, I let out the fumes from my chest. “She always sends me to voicemail when I don’t answer her first.”
“Your dad again?” Her head tilts, sympathy in her tone.
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it!” With a light chuckle, I play it off with a wave of my hand, walking past her as the walking sign lights up green.
“Don’t lie to me!” Mia shouts as she catches up from behind. “Emilia!”
“I said, don’t worry!” I’m louder than expected, and it stops me in my tracks, steps away from the car. “It’s fine.”
Mia catches up and stops just a foot away from me. I can feel her eyes burning on my back. With a sigh, I continue toward the passenger side and wait for her to unlock the door. The air pierces my lungs with the sudden heaviness of the world. I want to speak, but I can’t.
The ride back to my place is quiet. The radio is low, and we pass nearly every green light with ease. The only words that are spoken are when Mia parks on the side of the curb in front of my apartment complex.
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Mia turns to look at me. “Look, I know you said not to worry, but with that kind of reaction earlier, I am.” Her eyes blaze with fire as she continues, “I’m your friend, and friends should worry about each other.”
With a small smile, I grab her hand and place it in mine. “I’m fine, really. I’m glad to have a friend like you.” Pulling her in for a hug ends up with me holding on a bit too long. With a slow release, I let her go and open the passenger door. “I’ll see you at practice.”
Waving goodbye, and instead of heading inside, I walk over to my car and hop in right away. With a quick start, the squeal of my tires on the asphalt, I’m out and on my way to my Dad’s house. Whenever I think of my dad, memories of the past are dredged up and sting deep in my chest. Events I’ve yet to acknowledge. Feelings I’ve hidden deep in the depths of my heart.
Arriving in front of the small one-story home sends a shiver of dread down my spine. Looking up toward the inky sky leaves a yearning in my heart to fly away from everything and everyone.
My heart races as I timidly walk up the driveway to the front door, and my hands shake as I reach for the doorknob.
My sister is quicker.
She ferociously swings the door open, startling me back. “What the hell are you doing here?”
My throat is tight, and no words can escape. I want to say so much, yet nothing comes out. I can tell from her reddened eyes that she’s been crying. I shoulder my way past into the living room, and my sister attempts to reach for my arm, but pulls away as I brush past.
My eyes adjust to the low light, and I’m greeted with a scene of chaos and the smell of sweat, food, and something burning. My dad’s TV dinner tray is on the side, his meal splattered across the beige carpet. Red sauce from the red chile enchiladas sprayed across the photos on the wall. My dad’s in the kitchen, and it sounds as if he’s throwing more dishes.
Turning back to my sister, yelling, “What is going on?”
“Do not talk to me that way! You didn’t answer your phone.” Jazmine slams the door closed and walks toward me. “Don’t come up here acting mighty.”
“Jazz, this is so bad!” Throwing my hands in the air, I wave them around in disbelief. “You should have called Hospice and the emergency line.”
“You really think I didn’t! I called over an hour ago.” Jazmine bursts into tears, placing her head into her hands. Her long black hair falls over, shielding me from seeing the tears running down her cheeks.
My heart lurches into my throat when a large shatter rings out. Rushing around the corner, I dodge just in time to see a glass cup fly past my head, shatter as soon as it slams into the wall behind me.
“Damn it! Damn it all!” My dad is pacing in the kitchen.
Taking a deep breath, I walk under the fluorescent kitchen light. “Dad. Dad! It’s okay, you’re home.” My voice is soothing, in a hushed tone.
His eyes dart my way, and I can tell he’s lost in his delusion. “Why’d you cheat on me! Why’d you do it, Alaina?” He begins to step toward me.
“Dad, it’s me, Emilia.” Putting the table between myself and my dad, I continue, “Mom’s dead, remember. She’s not here anymore.”
With a loud roar, my dad swerves around the table and rushes me. My childhood flashes before my eyes. Things I saw my mom go through that no child should ever see. Jazmine is in the kitchen in a millisecond, and we both are hit with slaps and punches as we take our father down to the ground.
It’s the safest way.
Yet it leaves a tear in my heart to see my dad like this.
After the Hospice nurses pump my dad full of antipsychotics, give us the rundown of what happens next, and leave, my sister and I clean up the wreck of the house together in silence. We pick up glass shards and food spills well into the early hours.
Once done, I have to step outside into the cool of the night, the light raindrops soothing my burning skin. Lifting my head to the cloud-covered night sky, the droplets leave streaks down my face. The tears blend in, the world unknowing of the weight in my heart.
I want to leave.
But I can’t.
Back inside the house, I lock up for the night, and I’m back in my childhood room. A time capsule of 9 years untouched. My journals, notebooks, and backpack from senior year are left on my desk. A closet half-full of clothes I left behind. I pull a key out of my jewelry box and settle into my old bed. Reaching underneath the purple pillow, I pull out my locked diary, unlock it, and take a deep breath before flipping to the last entry.
June 21st, 2015
Love is stupid. Boys are stupid. Families are stupid. Work is stupid. Everything is stupid.
I can’t help but chuckle at seeing younger me furiously writing this, the day I packed my bags and left. My favorite word at the time was stupid. The bittersweet feelings wrap me up, squeeze my lungs, leaving me feeling suffocated.
My eyes already on the brink of spilling over, I continue to read:
My heart is shattered. I expected so much, but maybe I deserve this.
Yeah… I don’t deserve or need love in my life.
It’s not like “love” has done anything for me anyway…
So I’ll be gone, far away, ready to start over and try again. And I’ll do that over and over, however many times it takes to numb this feeling in my chest. I thought he was the one. But I guess I was wrong. So stupidly wrong.
So this is my goodbye. Goodbye, mom, even though you’ve been gone for years now. Goodbye, Jazmine. Goodbye, Xavier.
The entry is short, the writing scribbles, the letters smeared from previous droplets. New ones mix in with the old as I rub my hand across the page. The locked-away feelings of someone I’ve lost mix with the overwhelming feelings of the past and present flood in. Emotions I swore I’d forgotten, but never did.
Curling into a ball, I fall asleep to the sound of my sniffles. And the dreams and nightmares of the past. Golden eyes follow my every move, leaving me aching for something more…
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