Lapse of Sanity--One by HANNAH BRAHMS

Author:HANNAH BRAHMS
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Psychological Fiction, Mental illness, Obsession, Disturbing reality, Friendship, Loneliness and depression, Literature & Fiction, Novella
Publisher: Hannah Brahms
Published: 2024-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

SUPERFICIAL

As soon as I reached home, I headed straight to the bedroom mirror and studied my new image. For the first time in my life, my hair was styled and shaped rather than flopping around my head and shoulders, and I looked good. It was such a massive improvement that I wondered why I hadn’t done it sooner. I could hide behind the pretence that I was Denise and feel confident, self-assured, and personable. Everyone would approve; the benefits would be huge.

While gliding through my flat, I imagined the flood of compliments I’d receive, a boost to my ego. Not that they mattered much. Denise’s opinion was the only important one, and I was certain she’d be impressed. It would increase our bond and put an end to Steve’s efforts to break us apart, and our problems would be forgotten, and we’d be closer than ever.

I glanced at her flat window. She’d be arriving home within the hour, and since I was desperate to witness her surprised and happy expression, I considered visiting her. Whilst nothing stopped me, Steve’s presence was a concern. He’d misinterpret my mimicry as something other than an act of love and would influence her. Hence, I stayed put.

Even though it would be worth the wait, I couldn’t settle and fidgeted and paced the room, and every so often checked my reflection in the patio door after looking at her flat window. It was weird seeing Denise staring back at me rather than the frumpy woman I’d grown to hate, and a proud smile settled on my face. Finally, I could reject the loser that I was and be someone else.

To my regret, I considered the person I’d left behind rather than the new me, and I reflected upon my childhood. I was the last person to be selected into a team in physical education classes, and the one who’d never had a partner for school projects. Always alone, I gritted my teeth and presented a stoical appearance. Yet, inside I suffered relentless pain, and once home, I sobbed into my pillow. All I wanted was to be cherished. Instead, I was the person everyone mocked, whether it was because I didn’t know the answers in class or because the other children needed a target.

Why not pick on the girl who blushed profusely, scowled at her dejection, or stuttered when spoken to? To them, picking on me was logical. No one had understood me; no one had tried.

Handling hateful comments wasn’t easy, but I would learn to cope. But when a girl in my class told me that my dad had rejected me because there was nothing within me worth loving, I took the remark to heart.

As I plopped into my sofa, my misery mounted and I remembered how I’d shared that particular anguish with my mother. Even though she’d reassured me that my father hadn’t known about me, therefore couldn’t form a relationship, I’d doubted she spoke the truth. She’d once said their relationship had continued for three months after the discovery of her pregnancy.

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