Unconditional (The Letter Scene)

He patted me on the back, taking an authoritive tone. "Besides, she could use a little exposure on how government works." My mother looked up from her newspaper, and pushed her glasses up higher. "I agree, alright kids, don't be out late." She said.

Part if me was proud to have a boyfriend who took some authority, the other part of me wanted to tell him off. So what if I didn't know much about how a government worked? It was a choice. I chose not to care. i knew so many other things that I didn't want another burden to carry. I felt as if he couldn't see that anymore. Alister couldn't really see much anymore. I tried to talk to him earlier about how things were going between us.

I had him sit down in my room only an hour before. He came over knowing exactly why. I had told him I needed to talk to him, and he agreed the same. The moment he stepped into the kitchen doorway I could feel his evasive stiffness. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder, as if it was dragging him away from me. It caused an awkward side-hug. "Let me hang up your backpack hun." I offered. Next to the front door was a set of white hooks, hanging against the wall. Normally he would walk in, take his shoes off, and hang his coat and backpack up. I'd give him a small kiss and ask him if he wanted any dinner.

This time he didn't even look at me. "No thanks, I've stuff I gotta' do." He said, walking out of the kitchen and into the dining-room. I guffawed, taken aback, but I said nothing and followed after him. "Do you want me to clear off the dining-room table for you?" I asked. He kept walking, and stopped, nearing my room.

"Naw, I need to use your computer for something." I was always secretly happy whenever he used something of mine without asking. It sounded crazy and I knew that, but I wanted him to feel at home more then anything else. Often I would encourage it, but I never made a big deal about it. I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. This time though, I was strangely angry. I didn't want him to feel so at home that he blew me off and used what I had to distract himself from me.

My room was small, and sometimes it felt like a small box that was closing in on me. My computer desk was the first thing he went to. He sat down and I heard him sigh. It sounded as if he was unhappy to be here, as if it was inconvenient, and he wasn't obliged to deal with it. "I wrote you a letter, Alister, it's next to the computer." He nodded so that I knew he heard me. He was distracting himself from the whole point of coming over. I sensed it too. I could feel the wall he was shoving against me.

I didn't say a thing. I knew I was right, but I had nothing to prove it to him. He knew I was right, but he had all the defenses. So I kept my mouth shut, and I motioned for him to have my office chair. "I'll just drag in the chair from the living-room." I said. If I couldn't be angry at him I might as well be deadly kind. My subtle hints fell on stubborn notions, however. He didn't respond to anything. I played my best with Alister's silence, and mimicked it. He must of memorized my login password. I was hoping he'd be forced to look at me and at least ask for it. Some type of interaction, but he'd typed it in enough times to remember it.

I sat down on the stiff dining-room chair, sitting next to him in my room. I looked at my hands. Whenever I was anxious I would always play with my thumbs. This time though, I was picking at them. Picking and picking away at the pieces of sore skin and the now throbbing hangnails. I hoped maybe my thumb would bleed. In all of Alister's intelligence I silently hoped he'd glance down at my hands and realize my anxiety was making me bleed. Of course, he didn't.

I had nothing to do, so I hypnotized myself into the computer screen, waiting for him to finish his work. I wasn't even sure what he was googling, I didn't care. I only started to care when the screen flickered and I suddenly saw the familiar band of blue at the top of the browser. He was on facebook. My heart burned in my chest as I anticipated what I would bite back tears to see. Was he going on facebook to check his homework? Or was he sincerely faking this whole thing just to avoid me? I didn't know. I also didn't know that in my concern, I was leaning closer to the computer. "Liz, could you move, please? Thank you." Alister put his hand out, and gently pushed me away from the screen. Gentleness, it was the best way to barely touch me. Suddenly I wish he would just hit me. Hard. Something, anything that was too obvious to ignore. Something that involved making actual contact. Physically or verbally, I didn't care which.

The only punch I felt was the beating of my heart, and I wished it would stop.

Again, I said nothing. I looked at the letter neatly sitting on the desk, untouched. Every word in it lacked any condemnation. I despised judging anyone, even if I was right. I painstakingly wrote every letter as neatly and plainly as I could. Not one word was taller or smaller then the other one. I wanting nothing to do with the emotional feelings crashing around inside my heart. I wanted him to know I was being logical throughout everything. I knew that if I appeared emotional at all, he could use it against me.
Under the letter was my sketchbook, so I reached over the desk, brushing against Alister purposefully, and I grabbed it. I picked up the nearest pencil and started to sketch whatever came out of my head.

It was a girl, with faint little streaks running out of her eyes. I buried myself in her, being as inattentive to Alister as he was being to me. I made her breasts small and delicate, I didn't care if she was naked. I reached the end of her torso. Pressing deeply into the paper, I scratched a long line crossed her body. This way she had no hips, no legs. Then I found myself attaching her to a pole, all the way down to the bottom of the page, and I added a stand.

She was a statue, naked for all the world to see, frozen in her sadness without any legs to carry her away.

It realized it was me, with her face, her hair, her breasts, her belly-button and her eyes. I was drawing how I felt sitting in this small room with Alister. I was clothed but exposed to whatever notions he had of me. What did I do to him? I must have done something wrong to make him treat me like a potential cold he could catch. The only real cold I felt in this room was the breeze coming from my window and the chill of his attitude. I had goose bumps and I didn't know which of two were responsible.

At first I thought maybe he was ignoring me because he was nervous, so I waited.
The sound of fingers clicking against the padded keys of a phone floated around in my head, but I didn't notice he was texting until I heard the vibrations of someone replying to him. I lifted my head up quickly, my mouth slightly hanging up. He swiveled the office chair to face my direction, but he never looked up from his phone. I glanced at his facebook, left open on my computer. Then at the letter, sitting on the desk, and then at him, texting on his phone. In his mind I was almost sure he was screaming, "I'M IGNORING YOU BITCH." I wondered if he was texting someone about me. My heart caught on fire then, I boiled with rage. What a disrespectful little ass. When I called him earlier, our only intentions were to sit together and talk everything out. Instead he brushed me off in my own home, and played absolutely no attention to my existence, while he was sitting next to me in my own room. I wanted to scream, cry, and even spit. I bite my tongue and turned away from him.

After all the damn waiting I could see plainly from the look on his face and the pout on his mouth that his intentions were deliberate. "Is texting apart of your homework?" He put his phone away and pulled out papers from his backpack, "I had to ask someone a question, chill out." He said. "Sorry, it's just that you came over to talk...you could have at least let me know in advanced that you had tons of stuff to do first." I tried to sound un-emotional but my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and pretended it was just mucus getting in the way. He bent over at his homework with intense concentration, using one of my pens to fill in the blank spaces. I wished we could fill in the blank spaces on the invisible pages hanging between us. "I'm going on facebook." I said. I didn't know if he realized what I said or not, but I didn't care. When I logged out of his account, I decided to check up on all of my old accounts to fill up the time, and see if anyone still messaged me on them. After a few minuets I grew bored and I closed out the browser and sat back in my chair, looking at Alister. He was shuffling his papers together and packing them back into his backpack.

"Are you going to read the letter I wrote? It's right there." I pointed to it.
"I already did." He said plainly. My baffled face didn't seem to sway him. "You read it? The whole thing? It's two pages long, how come I didn't even notice you pick it up?" I was in disbelief. I felt as if he was lying, but the letter did look slightly unsettled. I couldn't remember if I shifted it when I grabbed my sketchbook or not. It could have been me who'd shifted it, and he was lying. Or he could have read it while I was on the computer. However I was a relatively alert person, and I wasn't all that concerned with my facebook at the time. I was just waiting for him.

I couldn't prove it either way, and I was frustrated that I hadn't been paying more attention.
"Well, okay, so you read it. What do you think...about everything I said?" I asked. My mouth became slow to open. I was so scared that he'd come against me. I didn't want all of this drama between us. I didn't want us to have any problems, especially not ones that hurt so badly you could hardly sleep at night. But I had to do this because I could see he wasn't going to. I had to try to save what was left of us. "So you aren't coming over to Valerie's or my sister's anymore. Oh well, I don't have a car of my own so you'll just see less of me." My heart dropped in my chest. That was only a small part of the letter, most of it was about how I didn't know why he was being so cold lately. I felt my shoulders sink. He didn't understand at all. To make it worse he pushed all of the loss over to me, as if it had nothing to do with him. It wasn't his problem, it wasn't his care. Here I was, worried the whole time that he would be sad or hurt. I was prepared for anything but this sense of emptiness.
He acted as if he didn't care at all.

This wasn't the Alister I used to know, the one who'd pick me up in his step-moms car and drive me to his house. The Alister who'd blast our favorite music and laugh with me as we'd try to sing along. I'd open the window and let my hand glide against the wind like a dolphin in the ocean. I'd feel so free and yet so sheltered with him. He would put a funny movie on and we'd laugh at the jokes and kiss enough times to miss all the important scenes. I could remember laying alone, just him and I, in his sisters bed. I would lay against his chest, and breath in the scent of his shirt. He would talk to me in the darkness, telling me stories of his childhood. Some were funny, or crazy. Some were sad, and painful. I would hold him even closer during those stories, as if I could caress his pain away. Every time he'd go out on a chore I'd bounce around him on the heels of my feet, trying to make everything happier for him. He'd smile and tickle me, I'd yelp and shy away from him, laughing all the while. Sometime's I'd sneak up behind him and tickle him back. Sometimes I'd sneak up behind him and just hug him, holding him close.

The last time I tried that, he shoved me away. He noticed the look on my face and then defensively told me he thought I was going to tickle him, and he wasn't in the mood. Sometime's he'd throw an insincere apology in the mix.

Now, he just sat in my chair, texting. I didn't care to ask who because I didn't want him to accuse me of prying. "Alister? It's not that I don't want to be around you, of course I do. I just can't take the way Valerie acts. She makes me so uneasy, and she's vile. You know that. I mean she practically asks us everyday if we've had sex yet, amongst other things. It bothers you as much as me and you know it. I can't pretend to be nice with her like you can. She order's you about like you're her slave, not her step-son. It's disgusting and I just don't think I can hold my tongue with her. I don't want to mess everything up, so I think it would be less dramatic if I didn't come over as much, instead of making a scene. You understand don't you?" I pleaded. "I guess." He answered. "I'm sorry Alister, I don't want to upset you."

He shrugged, "Your the only one upset right now."
I had no words in my mouth for that answer. I didn't know what to say at all. We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, and then I thought of something I could say. "If you can't make it to my house as much, my mom can always pick you up. She loves you a lot, so it wouldn't bother her too much. She picks you up a lot anyway." I forced a smile. Alister shook his head, "No offense, but I don't really want your mom to drive me anywhere."

Disappointment, pain, and shock all crashed against me at once. Something cracked in me, but I couldn't place what it was. "W-what??!" I stuttered. "Yeah, I'll find my own rides." I half-hoped that meant he still planned on seeing me. I was growing sick of wishing for a crumb of kindness from him. "My mom always drives us places, why does it bother you now? What if you can't get a ride?" I asked. he shrugged carelessly, "Then I can't come over, oh well."

Oh my God. He was doing it. He was punching me all over in every delicate place a girl like me refused to admit she had. I didn't even want to breath, I was afraid it would turn into sobs. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I'd feel so awkward with tears streaming down my cheeks while he just sat there. I also didn't want my mom to hear, though I found out much later she had heard the whole thing. I wanted to keep it all from her. She noticed his lack of affection before I even did, weeks ago. She'd always prod me about it. I would brush it off and tell her he was just feeling blue. I would always force a smile.

I broke down. "Alister, you're cold. You brush me off, you don't kiss me hardly at all. You haven't been the same since you got back from that trip. You know it too, you don't understand how much it all hurts me. I want to fix this, I think we can work it out with you'd just try."

"I told you, I'm still not feeling well since I've been sick, I didn't kiss you because I don't want you to get sick." He defended himself. I wanted to say, "Yeah well then why did you go after me on the couch only two days after you started taking anti-biotics? That was over two weeks ago. You were still damn hacking your lungs up and yet you couldn't keep your mouth off of me!"

But I didn't say it. I couldn't. I didn't even know why, but I couldn't speak. I tried to open my mouth but I couldn't. I was screaming on the inside, sobbing, begging. Nothing came out of my mouth. All those dreams growing up, of being in a natural disaster and not being able to get away because I felt frozen in slow motion. Here I was, and the lava trailed down towards me. I couldn't move away, I didn't know how to defend myself. I was so sick and tired of losing the people I loved. It was only a few months earlier that I'd lost the friends I loved dearly for twelve years. I had almost finished grieving. The man that took them in, lied about me. The believed it, and they insulted me in ways I couldn't repeat, and then entirely cut me off without another word. I was so broken I almost killed myself.

It wasn't the first time either, and as I sat facing Alister, the man I loved more then anything I could express, I realized it wasn't the last. "Are you sure you aren't just bitter Alister? Is all of this coldness coming from the fact that you have wounds you haven't dealt with yet? If that's that case then I can understand, everyone goes through that at some point." The words flowed out of me as if it was God himself speaking and I had no control of it.

His faced hardened and he turned around to glance out the window. I watched as his fingers wrapped around the string that pulled down the blinds. "I'm not bitter. I've left the past behind, what's done is done and you can't fix what's already happened." "I know, I know you can't fix the past, but that doesn't mean you don't still feel hurt about it, and it's okay to admit it. It's really okay."

"I'm not bitter." He said again.

I was frustrated, "Then how come you bought cigarettes for your sister, and when I told you that could give her cancer you said 'Oh well if she dies then it won't be my problem anymore?' That's not bitterness? Come on, give me a break. You don't even believe in smoking anyway, how's that an example for people?" I stated. "Ingrates aren't a sin." Alister said.

"What?! You don't smoke, you're religious, but now you tell me smoking isn't a sin? They can freaking kill you, shouldn't that be enough?" I asked him, appalled. He nonchalantly motioned to the jar of chocolate Nutella on my desk. "That stuff isn't good for you, it makes you gain wight and get zits, yet you still eat it."
I ignored any impulses to smack him across the head. "Thanks a lot, but Chocolate doesn't give you Cancer."  I snapped. He shrugged, and went back to texting.

Silence was all that sat between us. It felt like a long time had past, I hadn't been keeping track. I finally gave up. I wasn't able to talk to him about anything. He wasn't willing to even consider he was wrong about something. There was no point anymore.

"I've been...so depressed Alister. I didn't even see the point in my life just a few days ago. I just...I blame myself for things..." I wanted to say I blame myself for the things that he was doing, and that I figured out I was depressed from denying his behavior. From his refusing to kiss me, his lack of a real hug. From making all those sarcastic jokes and suddenly not responding to anything I did for him. Not saying thank you, or even putting his arm around me at all. For the silence when I told him I loved him, as I always did. For hitting me in the back of the head because I took a sip of his drink, and for making negative remarks whenever I had a thought or an idea.

As usual, though, I said nothing. All I wanted to hear was his concern. I wanted him to hold me close to himself and tell me it was going to be alright. I let my sentence trail off about the depression. I felt defeated, and I stood up and turned away from him. I was going to walk out of the room when he spoke up. "Hun, It's probably just all in your head." He called me hun. But I didn't damn care, because he told me it was all in my head. All in my head, everything I was feeling and going through was imaginary. As if I was the type of person to put myself through tons of unneeded pain. As if everything I felt was not significant enough to be real and from some identifiable source.

Maybe I was actually crazy, like my father. Maybe Alister was right, he sounded so convincing. At least it was a conclusion, which I longed for more then anything. I could feel my fathers shadow hang over me. I wondered if i inherited his insanity.

What if everything I had ever felt was all a lie?

I had no energy to find out. I felt as if my entire body was sinking under the weight of my pain. It felt as if my bones were sagging and cracking at the joints. If I was a machine I would be burning black smoke, my bolts popping off. I'd sag in defeat as all my gears snapped and bent. My breath was heavy and ragged. I wanted to see if he had any concern left in him, so I found myself uttering, "Maybe I should just die."
He made no movement, his body was still. His voice was mechanic and monotone. He spoke quickly before picking up his phone again, "Don't say that." I did though, I did say it. I meant it as well. I wondered if I could even scare him into taking me seriously, but then I realized that was the same thing I tried to do with my father growing up. It never worked.

I walked out of the room and into the bathroom. My tears leaked out and my face turned pink. I took a washcloth, and scrubbed away at my skin. I'd just tell him I was red because I scrubbed my face. The scrubbed got harder, and harder. Soon I could feel my cheeks sting, so I stopped. But it wasn't enough, none of it was enough. My chest wanted to explode. I bit my lip and stifled any sobbes, swallowing my tears. Suddenly as if I'd gone mad. I lifted my shirt and grabbed at my side, digging my long finger-nails into my skin. I dragged them crossed, making sore lines. "Okay Alister, here's a little gift for you." I thought aloud. Suddenly what I said made me feel sick. I checked the scrapes.

I never drew blood, i never had. Something in me could never hurt myself to that level.

It was when I finally came out that Alister was all packed up and told me he was ready to go. "I have to go to a meeting at school, you should come. It'll be good for you, a learning experience." He said. I felt nothing, I was numb. I spoke to him mechanically as if I had no more control over my mind. "I'm always up for a learning experience." I smiled. Even my mood was automatic. I felt like that Elmo toy you'd see at Walmart. He was always stuck on a shelf, alone. He'd sit waiting to be picked up by some bratty kid and then brought home only to be thrown around. Every time you'd press his button, he could only say nice things. The same things, over and over. The kid would get older and grow sick of him, He'd be stuff away in a closet and be forgotten. He never had the voice to express how he really felt.

I was an idiot for comparing myself to a toy Elmo, but it was how I felt.
I followed Alister like a dog, into the living-room. My mom had moved from her bed-room to the living-room chair. She was immersed in her newspaper. At least I thought she was, it was always hard to tell.
That's when Alister told her his plans. That's when she nodded and told us not to be out late.

That's when I walked with him all the way to the school-meeting and had nothing but continuous small talk running out of my mouth. That's when I reached for his hand, closed my eyes for a second, and told myself that nothing was wrong.

It wasn't much later that I found out his homework was actually just extra-credit.


The dreary humid night air was comforting to me. I felt surrounded by a blanket, and I didn't have to lean against Alister for warmth. I was wearing my slick black jacket, in case it rained.