Wallflower

WALLFLOWER

Hayley Howard

Copyright 2011 Hayley Howard

Smashwords Edition

That's what real love amounts to- letting a person be what he really is. Most people love you for who you pretend to be. To keep their love, you keep pretending- performing. You get to love your pretence. It's true; we're locked in an image, an act-Jim Morrison.

New year, New Me?

Lisa

Tuesday was a good day, although it was still bitterly cold, the sun was shining for a change and I had finally got over my New Year’s Eve comedown/hangover/at deaths door state and I wanted to do something positive, with it being the 2nd of January and all, when everyone always seems to reflect on their life. And to be fair, I had some serious reflection to do.

I’d read in one of Candy’s hippy magazines that for your new year’s resolutions instead of just saying and forgetting them, you should write them on scraps of paper and keep them in a box, then every couple of weeks check the box, add to it, take out what you’d managed to change or achieve etc. and it would supposedly help you ‘move forward with your life in a positive direction’ it kind of inspired me so I went and bought some stationery. I got the little silver box from a market stall in town, it had coloured gems all over it and it was nice and shiny. I spent ages choosing the pink patterned card and a purple glittery gel pen. I lay back on my bed and thought about what I really wanted to change. It was a lot. In swirly writing I started;

Quit smoking?

Not that that would happen. There were so many things I wanted to change but it all felt so

unachievable, too hard or just plain impossible, I thought for half an hour, convincing myself that I

could at least try. I settled on:

Quit smoking

Pay Carl back

Get a job

Contact Mum and Dad?

I tore each sentence out and put them into the box separately. I closed the lid and planted a little kiss on the top before hiding it in a bundle of clothes at the bottom of the wardrobe, so Jack wouldn’t find it, he’d only laugh or have a go at me for spending a tenner on a pretty box.

It really was time to get a job though. I was sick of having no money and when we did have a little bit scraped together from emptying the backs of the couches we either owed it to Carl or to our landlord. I couldn’t ask Jack to go out and work as he had his music to think of, plus he was too lazy. His band was really good and it was now just a case of them waiting to be discovered, but unfortunately that may never happen, but when I spoke to Jack about maybe having a back-up plan he just told me to be patient and that having a job would disturb his creativity. In the meantime I would get a job so we could get by a bit easier, maybe even put some nice food in the cupboards! And we could pay Carl (our dealer) back, if he stopped giving us stuff on tick, which he had threatened to do, there was no one else and at this stressful time I really couldn’t be doing without my supplies and neither could Jack. Neither could our relationship.

I’d phoned up a few recruitment agencies in the week and one of them had just got back to me and set me up with a temp job at an insurance company, I think it was just answering phones and doing filing, and boring officey things but it was starting tomorrow. Which meant I’d get paid a week on Friday. To be honest I couldn’t think of doing anything worse, cooped up in an office all day, photocopying, I’d hoped the agency could have got me some work at a nursery or something that involved a little brain power but as I had no experience, in anything, this would have to do, we were broke and after all, my favourite saying; beggars can’t be choosers.

I hadn’t worked for way over a year and not because I was lazy, because without sounding too mad and needy, since I met Jack, we couldn’t bear to be away from each other and I just hadn’t got around to finding a new job. It had been a hard year too, I’d wasted a lot of time, sitting about doing nothing, smoking weed and snorting my way through a fair few concoctions, not earning any money and racking up debt. The longer I’d stayed out of work, the harder it became to get motivated. I missed my mum and Dad sometimes too, I felt like an orphan now. Even though they were horrible people and seemed dead set on ruining my life, I missed how they used to be when I was little. Growing up as an only child I got lots of attention, I never wanted for anything and it was all about me, I missed the smell of Mum’s baking in the kitchen and having nice meals every day, she devoted a large part of my childhood to keeping me stocked with delicious food; cherry bake-wells, chocolate chip fairy cakes and my favourite, melting moments. Aside from the baking she had always been kind of uptight about stuff, she hated it when I made a mess or got my clothes dirty but I thought that had been normal but as I got older she got worse and worse. By the time I was fourteen I had grown to hate her. Despise her for constantly shouting at me about how useless I was, clumsy and stupid and I always wondered where it had changed.

She should have been more supportive after what happened to me but I think she thought it was my fault, like I’d asked for it and I would never forgive her for that.

Sometimes I dreamed of her but I was always jolted awake with her last words to me You ruin everything.

Jack and I had been surviving just fine off of our dole money but lately we’d been buying a bit more stuff off of Carl and had a few messy weekends which ended up with us owing him about 1500 quid, (a lot of cocaine).

Our combined income was no longer enough and I had literally run out of excuses and hiding places, so I went to work at Smith and Clyde, the next day, assuring Jack it wouldn’t be for long, just until we got back on track.

Josie

As the awful sound of my alarm started beeping and drilling through my whole body I was immediately awake, I wasn’t overly tired, I just didn’t want to get up, I didn’t want to go to work and I didn’t want to see anybody. If I stayed at home and watched chat shows all day I thought, with other people’s problems on display to the nation, I might not feel so bad and I doubt anybody at work would even notice if I didn’t show up. A little dramatic I know but I was feeling sorry for myself.

This thought haunted me every morning, yet still I would get up and go.

Today was no different, I shuffled past the girls blocking up the hallway chatting excitedly about what they had got up to the night before, or whatever it was they were so animated about, I climbed the narrow stairs and made a cup of tea in the staffroom before shutting the door of my private little office, shutting out the world, opposite the claims team. When I sat down to arrange the hundreds of papers occupying my desk I sighed sadly over the hot mug in my hand and I felt exhausted, not because I had had a busy weekend or even done anything remotely exciting, (unless you considered watching repeats of absolutely fabulous for 7 hours straight, exciting).

I felt sad; tired of being alone and pretending I was happy. I was bored of my life and through my own cowardice, what I had let it become. The truth was, sometimes, unintentionally I kept myself very isolated, which made it hard to make new friends, or meet a man.

I know that I’m not unattractive; I’d say I was average looking, slender, mid length mousey brown hair and I suppose I could be quite pretty if I made an effort. My sister Jenny is always giving me advice on the clothes I should wear, how I should style my hair and things like that. But her efforts are wasted.

I’ve always felt safer keeping myself to myself, and for no particular reason, nothing really bad had happened to me, I hadn’t been abandoned or bullied, I was just quiet and shy and very clumsy which made me feel awkward in public, I didn’t crave attention and I was happy with my own company. I suppose if you looked that description up in a dictionary you’d probably find it under ‘boring’ and lately that’s how I’ve felt, desiring a more exciting lifestyle.

Standing in the shadows of others, pushing people away, Spending most of my time on my own and for what? I was beginning to realise that the more you shut yourself away the more people stopped trying and I didn’t want to be that person any more, I didn’t want to waste the rest of my life or youth for that matter, watching television and eating takeaway meals for one. I hadn’t meant to wind up like this, but like most things, it just kind of happened.

I longed for a boyfriend who shared the same interests as me, who knew and loved everything about me, that didn’t get annoyed with me if I broke a cup or stubbed my toe because of my great clumsiness. Someone who wanted us to go on holidays abroad together. The furthest I have ever been was a trip to France with my Secondary School about 5 years ago. But I would love to go back and see Paris or lie on the exotic beaches of the Canary Islands, live a jet-setting lifestyle like those powerful business-type women you see on TV that manage big companies and have to squeeze in time to sleep in between their main duties of ‘having lunch’ with clients, buying power-suits and paging people orders. Something at least that would make others jealous, or maybe that my parents could boast about, although I would probably be happier anywhere right now, anywhere other than here.

I’ve worked at Smith & Clyde ever since I left School in 1992. I was part of the Claims team, sorting out the Car Insurance Claims and I’ve slowly worked my way up, last year Mr Anderson told me how impressed and grateful he was with my hard work and offered me a private office, taking on more clients and more responsibilities. It’s quite an achievement, my family always tells me. But it's boring! I’m wasting my life away in that place. It makes me worse as well because it gives me an excuse to be lazy and unsociable, the only time I leave that office is when I need the toilet or a cup of tea and then to go home. Sometimes I honestly feel that if I disappeared no one would even notice I was gone.

Since I’d started, four years ago I’d seen so many staff come and go, Leaving for a better job, to get married, to go travelling, next week Julie Marsh is going to start her maternity leave and I’ve heard the staff are planning her a goodbye meal at a restaurant in town, so yesterday a few of the girls (who didn't know my name) asked me to contribute some money for Mothercare vouchers to put in her card. It was so touching, seeing all her friends planning something nice for her, so sad she’d be away for a while and I wished I knew Julie as well as everybody else. It left me wondering who would be sad if it were me leaving next week, if I would even get a Good Luck card.

Annabel

What about this one dear? Brian called to his wife in the formal section of Marks and Spencer. But Annabel wasn’t really listening, she didn’t care which suit Brian picked for Emma’s wedding next week. It was just another reminder of her failure as a mother , she kept thinking.

Brian knew why she was being so quiet; normally you couldn’t get Annabel to shut up when she was in Markies.

Oh Annie, don’t be upset and she gave him a sad but knowing look. Annabel envied her sister Sue so much, for her beautiful children; all grown up now her youngest daughter Emma was marrying her childhood sweetheart in front of all the family. Sue was delighted as the whole family loved Andrew like a son already.

As Annie wandered around Mark’s and Spencer’s aimlessly she glanced at all the pretty gifts for young girls and felt a pang of heartache when she couldn’t pick them up and choose something nice for Lisa’s 22nd birthday which was coming up in a couple of weeks. Of course, she could get her something but there would be no point, she couldn’t deliver it to her in person without a huge row following and if she sent it, there wouldn’t be a thank you or even any acknowledgement. So they left the shops in a sombre mood not even purchasing a suit for Brian.

Annabel missed her only daughter with all her heart, like a part of her was gone. But most of all she felt like a failure. Wishing more than anything that Lisa would change her wild ways and come back into their lives, even ask for their help, Annabel would forgive her, if only she wasn’t so malicious, this whole mess should have been resolved, even with a simple, I’m Sorry and in a perfect world, Lisa could pay back some of the money she’d stolen over the years, but a few kind words and everything could be okay. Annabel loved Lisa but that didn’t mean she could put up with the way she treated her.

She prayed for the day they would speak to each other again, maybe even have a relationship. Do normal mother-daughter things like meet up for coffee in her lunch break or buy her nice things for her home, arrange dinners and pop in for a chat. But Lisa wasn’t really a ‘normal’ daughter; she didn’t have a job or a nice home. She didn’t care about anything, least of all her family. But still, it was a horrible feeling, knowing your daughter; your only child hated you with such a passion. Hated you so much that she could lie and steal and even be violent.

Things hadn’t always been so awful, years ago they’d been very happy the three of them. Annabel gave birth to Lisa on her 28th birthday, after being told her whole life she wasn’t able to have children. Brian and Annie had accepted their fate and never planned a child but always hoped. When they discovered she was pregnant it felt like a miracle and were both completely over the moon. Planning the birth, the baby’s bedroom and even the school with the finest detail. They felt they couldn’t risk anything going wrong as it was probably their only chance of parenthood, so when their baby girl finally arrived into the world they cried tears of joy and thanked God for giving them the chance to be parents. They also made promises to themselves and each other to be the best possible parents they could be. Maybe they smothered her with affection too much but who wouldn’t in their shoes? They also hoped that maybe they could have other children. But after visiting fertility clinics and two further miscarriages, once again they gave up. They still had their beautiful daughter and felt blessed to be given that. And often when Annie thought of the state of their mother/daughter relationship, she wondered where it had all gone wrong. With all that love and all that good intent, how could it be that Lisa hated her mother?

A year and a half ago, the last time she’d seen her was one of the worst days of her life but at the time she was actually glad to see the back of her evil daughter, because that’s what she’d turned into, an evil, evil girl. Lisa had finally pushed her to the limit when she caught her stealing four hundred pound from the flowered jug on the window sill in their bedroom, they had been saving for a holiday in Spain for the following summer and hadn’t put it in the bank because Annabel was going to pay the travel agent in cash, that afternoon in fact. Although Lisa had moved out a few months beforehand she was still always showing up when she wanted money or food but that particular day no one had been home so Lisa had let herself in by picking the lock on the back door and had gone straight upstairs to the jug on the windowsill, how she knew there was money in there Annabel would never know, She’d gone upstairs to find Lisa with all the money in her hand, sitting on the bed counting it, dropping ash on the carpet, stinking the room out with the cigarette in her hand. L-Lisa shocked to find her daughter in her bedroom. Lisa turned to look at her mother and simply said I need some money. I’ll give it back in a couple of weeks, which was her favourite line; Annabel and Brian were deep enough in debt to