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16 October 2014
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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."

Familiar by Emerald-Rae Maguire

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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