The tears were barely held back, the heavy and warm pressure against my eyes the furthest from a comfort I could've had. My phone shook in my hand, three separate chats holding messages from me only a moment before.
Answer... please.
The scenery out the window kept flashing by as my parents talked. Beside and behind me, my three siblings were all silent. It was as though the turmoil I tried to hold within had permeated the air but hadn't managed to push past the oblivion that filled the front seat.
"I wish words were like little toy guns. No sting, no hurtin' no one..."
Squeezing my eyes shut, I opened my phone to check for a reply yet again. Nothing. Silence.
Alone.
My chest heaved as I quietly struggled for anything more than a soft gasp of air, as I tried to calm the swirling storm within, fueled by the words they'd said.
"Just try harder."
"Don't be so sensitive."
A single tear slipped free and I quickly dashed it away, teeth gritting together as I glared out the window. Don't fall apart. You're fine.
The old voices I'd tried to bury years ago rose eagerly from their graves, reminding me of all the past stories where people had told me to just be stronger, just work a little harder, just be a little bit more like... them.
"No smoke, no bullet. No kick from the trigger when you pull it. No pain, no damage done..."
My shoulders curved in and a sob rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down, refusing to acknowledge the need to cry.
I'm fine. I'm strong. I'll show them that I'm doing just fine the way I am.
A shaky breath entered my lungs, weakly fortifying me and allowing me to feel like perhaps my strong words were enough to get me through.
"Oh, I wish they didn't cut like a knife..."
A few more tears slipped through and these were hastily smeared from existence as I drew myself up, tentatively brushing my hair out of my face, revealing my eyes all over again. Regardless of how red, of how puffy, I sat tall.
I'm fine just how I am.
And when the car stopped, when everyone walked out, I drew my shoulders back as if nothing had happened. And I did the only thing I could do.
I did my best and accepted that I couldn't possibly do any better.
***
Little Toy Guns, Carrie Underwood
Estimated Time Of Memory: Late Summer 2020
Genre: Country
Potential Triggers: Guns, parents fighting,
Favorite Song Lyric: "Puts her hands over her ears, starts talking through the tears, and she's sayin', and she's prayin'..."