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emptymouthpiece

Seattle Washington

Member Since 2005

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Aug 8, 2020
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Misfits
Part Nine
Fuck you. How was that supposed to help anything? Shiloh was exhausted but sleep wasn’t forthcoming. Instead there was that common, constant, revisiting past arguments and evaluating what should have been said, too little, too late.
Saying that to Wendy came naturally, given the subject. Father was supposed to have been the hurdle, the conversation to dread, not her. Shiloh knew, had known for a long time before finally asking to speak to him, privately. The three of them were always together, just like Shiloh and Wendy were now. Maybe not as claustrophobic but still, rarely out of earshot of one another. There was no better time than sitting together at dinner, no other time that wouldn’t seem just as odd or off putting. Shiloh tried to form it in a way that wouldn’t offend anyone.
“Father, I have something I need to talk to you about after dinner. Can we just, sit on the porch for a few minutes?”
That was the most innocuous, plain, and true words Shiloh could think to string together and still they gathered a look of quiet contempt from Wendy, as well as a subtle variation on the cautious and always concerned look Father gave them both.
There was something after that as well, a quick reassuring look Father gave Wendy, followed by a nod and a wink from big sis. That exchange ate at Shiloh, far more than Shiloh picked at the carefully grilled slices of human flank steak father had cooked in garlic and butter. Wendy’s plate had potato added to it, for Father and Shiloh meat was the only thing on the menu besides occasional raw greens. The food of carnivores is…limiting after all.
After the meal was finished and the dishes were done, Shiloh felt like vomiting what little had been consumed. What if Father said he didn’t believe it? There was no expectation of hatred or flat disapproval, that should have been a solace, but it wasn’t. Worse for Shiloh was being dismissed, being told to wait. Twelve is too early to worry about that sort of thing. A phrase like that was the soul crushing counter Shiloh was getting ready to hear.

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