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Emerald-Rae Maguire
Emerald-Rae Maguire attends the Belfast Royal Academy. "I've only recently tried to publicise my work and hopefully I'll be getting published next year in a magazine and a book. I am really interested in art and writing short stories and films, and would love to follow a career down one of these paths."
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Familiar by Emerald-Rae
Maguire
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As I walked around the corner of Glenview Street, I peered
through the back gates and saw a faint yellow glow from
the bathroom and kitchen windows. Why amI not surprised?
The kitchen was a mass of plates and clothes. I let my handbag
slide off my shoulder onto the ground, then flopped onto
the sofa. Cracks and crunches arose from an old newspaper
underneath me. My head was full of the workday鈥檚 rants,
heavy and weary; as it fell against the flat pillow I caught
a glimpse of her across the living room. Vacant and unfazed
by my presence.
鈥淲hat time did you get in last night?鈥
I couldn鈥檛 muster any emotion as I asked her, every
day the same question and the answer never meant much.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 really remember.鈥 She droned.
I stared at the dark yellow stain on her pyjamas and remembered.
鈥淒id you clean up that mess in the bathroom yet? 鈥楥ause
I鈥檓 not doing it again. I鈥檓 sick of you thinking
that I鈥檓 your skivvy.鈥
Her eyes grew wide in defiance. 鈥淩ight well!鈥
She spat at me. 鈥溾ake.鈥
I looked at the TV for a while, more of that Trisha crap
she loves.
鈥淲ell are you gonna do it?鈥 I demanded.
Almost immediately she propelled herself out of the chair
and stomped heavily into the kitchen leaving a trail of
鈥淛esus Christ!...can鈥檛 I sit down for鈥ou
go on and on and on鈥︹ behind her.
My eyelids fell and I welcomed the silence. The newspaper
underneath me crackled again. Her mumbling鈥檚 were
just audible from the kitchen, the clang, bang and slam
of bottles of bleach from the cupboard under the sink gathered
like a grumbling storm. It isn鈥檛 worth it.
As I approached the toilet I felt a nauseating cloud of
stale vomit slap me in the face. The blue and red stains
of Alco pops around the floor disgusted me. Two years ago
she never would have talked to me with such venom and hatred.
I鈥檝e spent hours and days at a time racking my brain
to think of what I did wrong. It just made my headaches
worse. I gagged as I scrubbed off the last thick stain and
flushed. I wish I could be flushed away too.
As I slowly plodded down each step her cracked voice was
more and more apparent.
鈥淎ye. God I know. 鈥楻ound the Glenpark last night
so I was. Mmhmm. Yeah. Mmhmm鈥︹
As I cut her conversation I felt like cutting her throat.
She sat staring at me clutching the phone. I wanted to slap
that look off her face.
鈥淗elp me make the dinner.鈥 I was shocked at
the calmness of my voice, inside I was about to burst.
鈥淚鈥檓 busy.鈥 She waved her head and craned
her neck as she mouthed each word. Her foundation was too
heavy and her over glossed lip hung revealing a blob of
chewing gum crushed between her tongue and teeth. Orange,
dry skin was forming around her mouth, her dead eyes fixed
on mine. They used to sparkle with a warmth. The familiarity
is gone. I felt as though tears were welling up from my
throat as I gently bit my lip.
鈥淲here did you go last night? Were you out with Marty?鈥
Maybe if I asked it would make everything better, these
past few years I always felt that if she knew how much I
loved her and needed her then maybe she鈥檇 stop.
鈥淚 wasn鈥檛.鈥 Her eyes darted away.
I paced back to the sofa, flung the newspaper across the
room and sat.
鈥淲hy are you talking to me like a dick for? If you
aren鈥檛 goin鈥 with him anymore why are you still
knockin鈥 about with him?鈥
鈥淗ere, sorry. I think I鈥檓 old enough to knock
about with who-
鈥淥ld enough? Why don鈥檛 you ACT LIKE IT THEN!?
Up all hours at the Glenpark with a skirt up your arse like
a slapper. D鈥檡ou think you鈥檙e 26 or something?鈥
Her eyes grew wider. 鈥淎nd what?鈥 she spat.
鈥淲hat d鈥檡ou-"
鈥淎ye. And what? You鈥檙e a wee angel. Is that
it, aye?鈥
鈥淚 never said I was!!鈥 My words forced me upwards,
the power of my voice surged through me."
鈥淗ow do you think I feel. Standin鈥欌tanding
in Jerry Rogan鈥檚 last week for a pint of milk. And
I heard them! Everyone, they stand there staring at me.
Whisperin-"
鈥淎nd wha-"
鈥淲hispering and laughing at you! Going with half the
district! At your age. You know how that makes me feel!?鈥
I already knew her answer.
鈥淚鈥檓 old enough to do what I want!鈥
鈥淥ur Damien having to drag you out of a shitty flat
in the Newlodge last week. You in bed with a father of two!鈥
My tears muffled my roars.
鈥淎nd how was I supposed to know he had kids!?鈥
Her disregard for me was manifesting into anger as she stood
up to equal me.
鈥淜now? The kids were running about鈥ou were,
you were too pissed to realise!鈥
I roared and roared at her, old things and new things. Like
a violent earthquake, now reduced to her mumbling. My anger
spent I lay limp and lifeless on the curry stained sofa.
In a way it felt reassuring when she was like this. Reminded
me that she was alive.
鈥淒o you want anything from the kitchen?鈥 She
yawned.
鈥淲hat can you cook? The last thing you cooked was
a pot noodle and I had to boil the kettle for ya.鈥
We shared a faint smile. From a distance we almost looked
normal. She sat fiddling with a piece of tissue rested on
her lap, spinning it around.
鈥淵ou aren鈥檛 going out tonight鈥re you?鈥
Now she stared down at her tissue creation for a long time.
I grinded my back teeth together slowly.
鈥淲ith Marty?鈥
Silence draped off every wall.
鈥淚 said are you goi-"
鈥淵es I am! With Marty. With Marty, Marty, Marty.鈥
Her face remained unchanged.
鈥淜nockin鈥 about with Marty. How long before
he starts knockin鈥 you about again? Hmm?"
I leaned over the edge of the sofa.
鈥淗ey? How long?鈥
鈥淚 don鈥檛 know!鈥 she snarled.
鈥淪o I take it this time four months we鈥檒l have
another one you鈥檒l have to get rid of? Aye. Another
wee trip to Manchester? Open your legs for another bloke
to rip out your child, sure you won鈥檛 mind will ya?鈥
The words spilled out of me like poison and hung heavily
in the air. I shouldn鈥檛 have said that. I couldn鈥檛
bear to look at her, I shut my eyes, shut them tight. They
felt warm and stung from my tears. I dropped my head. Felt
her eyes on me, burning into me, I wish I could disappear.
I heard her heavy footsteps approach me, a cold sting on
the side of my face.
鈥淏itch.鈥 Her coldness was broken by her broken
heart, still aching from my words. Then ascending thumps
and finally a slam of her bedroom door.
I desperately needed away from this room and this house.
The TV glowed under the harsh naked light bulb hanging from
the yellow stained ceiling. I wish things were the way they
used to be. She used to love me, loved me more than anything
in the whole world.
Each step into the kitchen echoed regret; I clinked on the
kettle and waited. Waited for everything to be ok again.
As I poured two cups of coffee the kettle spat at me.
I opened her bedroom door, the crack let the light flood
in, illuminating her face. If only for a second it was like
manmade warmth. She was familiar. I whispered to see if
she was awake. Silence. As I leaned over to put the mug
by her bed it spilled over the sides. My arm trembled as
the tears fell down my face again and again. I swallowed
hard, then kissed her forehead.
鈥淕oodnight, Mum. I love you.鈥
鈥淚 love you too.鈥 She whispered.
I slowly closed her door, even though I wanted to stay for
as long as I could.
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