Fight Back

Date: 29th August 2014. Weight: 8st 11lbs. Stage: Three. Estimated time of survival: Three years.

I looked ridiculous. There was a logic behind my hair. I didn’t get it done to annoy Mom and Dad like they assumed. But one upside was that it annoyed them equally. The divorce really made them competitive.
I decided the day I broke up for summer that I needed change; I needed to stand out. At my school that was difficult, there wasn't much you could do that wasn't 'normal'. Most people had dyed their hair. People had holes in their faces. Girls showed their legs off. So there I stood, in all of my dreadlock glory. Nobody has dreadlocks.
I pulled at a light strand of ratty hair and sighed loudly. There was hardly any point in styling it; it always looked a mess. I was supposed to be celebrating seventeen years of life. What a joke.
I forced myself downstairs and found everyone in the living room - meaning Dad, Sasha and my step-mother Evelyn. Mom was in London, probably with her boyfriend’s tongue stuck down her throat. They were sat in a huddle under a birthday banner. There were three gift bags of presents and they looked at me with exaggerated smiles.
“Morning.” I said and sat opposite them on the couch.
“Happy birthday, Helena," Evelyn said happily and handed me the bags.
I nodded tightly and glared. They exchanged a look in response. I had developed a reputation for myself because of my hatred of birthdays. And for Evelyn.
“Open it then.” Dad urged - always the peace maker – and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. They all tried far too hard.
“Go on.” Sasha put in and I pulled the cellotaped bag open. Inside were a few t-shirts, a jumper and a black box. I opened the box and tried to look pleased with the silver necklace I wouldn't be wearing.
“Wow, thanks.” I tried to smile and Evelyn looked back pleased, obviously buying it.
I opened them all, including the empty diaries from Dad. His logic behind buying me these was that I could record my times like my brother – Alex did. He'd been dead for three years and they still compared me to him.
“What do you think?” Evelyn asked.
“Great, really great.” I replied and heard Dad head towards the kitchen muttering the word ungrateful to himself. I knew that I must have seemed ungrateful but there was something about my birthday that served as a reminder that I was a year closer to death. The presents were like compensation.
Sasha sat next to me and I shuffled over for her. “Why are you like this?” she asked.
“Like what?” I asked.
“You just don't care, do you?”
“I've got other stuff on my mind.” I shrugged.
“So have Mom and Dad.” she said and jumped up, heading for her bedroom.
"She's not your Mom!" I shouted after her.
That should have made me feel something but it didn't. I didn't care any more.
“Here you go.” Dad said and handed me a bacon sandwich, a glass of water and a cup of tablets.
“Thanks.” I told him and he watched me take them, like he didn't even trust me.
“Philip rang,” Evelyn said casually while I took an aggressive bite from my sandwich, “He wished you happy birthday.”
“Right.”
“You have a medical in a few days." she said.
“I know I do, and a meeting at school.”
“Oh, do you want me to be at the meeting?” Evelyn asked cautiously.
"No," I want you to go back to a time when your name was last popular, old-fashioned bitch. “I've done it loads of times.” I shrugged. I didn't want to talk to her, she wasn't related to me.
“How do you feel about school this year?” Dad asked.
“The same as last year.”
“You can stay at home if you want to, Helena." Dad said gently and I bit the inside of my cheek.
“I don't want to.”
“But Alex-" he tried.
“-I'm not Alex, he did that because he had nothing left to go to school for.” I snapped and Dad glared viciously at the wall. Alex passed away due to illness.
“If you- If you get any more symptoms you'll have to not go to school.” he said stiffly.
“I won't.” I said firmly and pushed my half eaten sandwich away from me.
“Why haven't you finished it?" he asked.
“I've had enough.”
“You need to finish it.” Evelyn said.
“I don't want to finish it.”
“Finish it!” Dad demanded.
“I'm not hungry.” I lied.
“You'll make yourself sick.”
“Too late!"
“Helena." Dad sighed.
“What?” I asked. “Whatever I do now isn't going to make a difference.”
“You could make yourself worse." Dad glared at me.
“I'm going to get worse anyway, so what does it matter?” I huffed.
“Don't start, Helena." Dad snapped.
“Why? This is your fault.”
“What? That you're a moody teenager?” he laughed.
“No, that you passed on your hopeless genes!” I exclaimed. Dad looked like he was trying to control himself.
“How can you blame me for that?”
“Who else have I got to blame?”
“Nobody is to blame!” Dad yelled and I sat up straighter.
“Things like this don't just happen, there's a reason behind it.”
“Don't be stupid!”
"Oh, I do apologise.” I replied sarcastically.
“Why are you making a scene; all this over a sandwich.” Dad tried.
“It's got nothing to do with the stupid sandwich!” I yelled.
“Then what is it?”
“It's about Infirma!” I screamed angrily. I didn't particularly like arguing but there was something inside me that just wanted to challenge him, he screwed up my life.
“Yes, you have Infirma, you've known for three years now. But this is no reason to act the way you do!” Dad growled.
“Yes it fucking is!”
"Both of you need to calm down." Evelyn warned.
"Don't swear at me!" he snapped. “Why can't you just behave like Sasha?!" Dad finally screamed.
I stood up. “Well I am sorry, but Sasha is ten and . . . oh, she doesn't have Infirma!” I hissed back and Dad paled a little.
“Alex didn't act like this." he snapped.
“I'm not Alex, he's dead and you still prefer him to me!”
“Is this it? You're jealous?” Dad asked. I was a little when he was alive but now I just hated Dad for comparing me to my dead brother.
“No! This is about him still being the pride of this family, while you both are already replacing me!”
“What?” Evelyn asked. “How are we replacing you, Helena?" she exclaimed.
“Can you look me in the eye and say you're not trying for a baby?” I said to their guilty faces. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you both aren't praying it's a girl?”
“We could never replace you.” Dad said after a minute of painful silence.
“Then why are you trying?” I asked desperately.
“We just feel it's right.” Dad said carefully.
“So when I die you still have the same numbers." I threw back.
“You're not going to die!” Dad shouted viciously.
“If you think that then you're stupider than your precious imaginary baby!”
“Get out! Go to your room!” Dad yelled loudly.
“Fine!” I hissed and headed upstairs. “Maybe I'll die in my sleep tonight!” I shouted.
I heard further arguing downstairs and pushed past Sasha. Without meaning to I swept my arm along one of my shelves and sent DVD's and crock ornaments falling to the floor.
I should have been angry about the arguing coming from my Dad but I was just upset now. This was my seventeenth birthday, and a pretty awful one at that. Happy birthday me.

Notes

Hey! This is a new one I'm working on! Do you have any questions? What do you think so far? Do you like Helena? Let me know what you think and check out my other stories! :)