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Chapter Three
Poppy stared out her bedroom window, watching her sister climb into the newish white Trailblazer. Poppy wanted to scream at her to leave and never come back.
When Rose left for college, their mother called her weekly, and Poppy would listen in. Rose kept the calls short, saying everything was fine, but she never pulled off making them believe everything was all right. She sounded like she couldn’t wait to get off the phone.
Dad tried to get in on those calls sometimes, but when he did, Rose always hung up.
Over time, the weekly calls got answered less and less, until Rose didn’t answer at all. Mom kept trying. Dad got pissed. How dare Rose upset their mom? Like her dad cared if Mom was upset. He didn’t. He just needed something to be mad about. Something, anything, to start a fight.
It didn’t stop Poppy from blaming Rose for being difficult. For making things worse. For leaving. For forgetting about her.
Poppy blamed her for all of it. Eventhatnight. Because if Rose had been here, their father wouldn’t have picked on Poppy.
Sometimes she wished he’d suffered a far worse death than he got.
Guilt ate away at her insides when her thoughts turned dark like that.
Some days it was all she could do to survive each day after what he’d done to her.
Poppy grew up jealous of her sister and angry that Rose had excelled. She resented Rose for all her accomplishments, even if their father made her believe they were nothing.
Growing up, Poppy didn’t have this kind of insight. But since his death she’d spent a lot of time thinking about Rose, herself, their mother, and him.
She thought about how it all went wrong.
Rose hadn’t been around when things got really bad. Mom had conveniently chosen to be in another part of the house when Dad picked Poppy as his target for the night.
She blamed her mom and Rose for abandoning her and leaving her to fend for herself against an unrelenting and callous attacker.
Her father wouldn’t stop. He just kept coming at her. Day in and day out.
And then he died.
Poppy was finally free.
Except she wasn’t. Not at all.
Because the past kept her locked in her memories and the anger and resentment and pain.
Depression brought on by trauma sucked her into a dark world where nothing mattered.
She didn’t go to college. She didn’t do much of anything.
She had no ambition or goals.
It was all she could do some days to exist.
And she hated Rose for the life she’d built while Poppy’s life crumbled to dust around her.
