Alright, I suppose I’m being really unfair. I’m being extremely unfair and insensitive. I’m being a bitch – that’s what I’m being. Argh, I really hate myself sometimes.
But she has to understand where I’m coming from. She has to! It’s what he wanted, for crying out loud! He’d be so proud! He’d actually acknowledge me for once, instead of simply saying – “Oh, that’s nice, Willow,” and not even look at me. You know, he’d do that a lot, even after Willow had moved out.
So, it all started when I brought home my uniform. It’s not my fault they want us all to wear the same thing while we’re in training. When Skye saw it, she kind of paused for a moment. I was soon to find out that that instance was the calm before the storm.
Skye looked me in the eye and said, “You really are serious, aren’t you?”
And I, holding my horrible green uniform, said, “No, Skye. I’ve just enrolled in the LEP Academy for a hardy laugh. I’m really just joking.” And there I added one of my obnoxious, sarcastic laughs – you know, the one I inherited from Skye herself. “Oh, and this.” I held up the uniform. “This I’m going to make drapes out of. Don’t you just love the colour?”
Or at least I said something to that effect. And writing that out, I now see how horrible I must have seemed. I see why she went ballistic.
She hit me. Skye hit me, slapped me across the face. I guess I deserved it. No, I know I deserved it.
I could have waited to enroll at the academy. It wouldn’t have hurt me to wait a year or two – when memories of my father’s death weren’t so fresh. But, I didn’t. I couldn’t, and I’m still not exactly sure why.
So, Skye hit me, and as we’ve taken to doing since my father died, we fought. Vicious words flew, but I remember less than half of them. She argued, I countered. She countered, I argued. Robin always said we two were too alike. In the end, Skye locked herself in her room, which is typical of her. She likes to retreat there, especially away from me.
About halfway through the skirmish, Fern came home. She tried to get us to quit, but it was really no use. She followed Skye when mother finally decided she’d had enough of me – of trying to save me, as she put it. The glare Fern gave me cut me just as deeply as every thing my mother had just done. I know she hates me, and I don’t blame her. I hate myself a little right now as well.
I get where they’re coming from; I’m joining the organization that took Robin away, but I’m doing it for him. I’m not changing my mind. I’m committed.
As Fern left, she hissed at me to take care of the baby, who had been forgotten and was crying desperately in the rocker where he’d been for the past hour.
Me take care of that thing? It’s ugly and smells. It’s not my responsibility! Skye should have taken him with her into her hideaway. D’arvit!
I suppose I’m going to have to go see about him. I just left him there while I wrote this, but I figured – he’d been sitting there for an hour, what would five more minutes hurt?