A Pretty Pill (3 page)

Lately I’ve become an academy award winning actress; I pretend I’m okay; and everyone around me believes it!

***

I’m sitting in the recliner chair next to Silas’ bed, and reading a bike magazine... I ride a black
Kawasaki Ninja 250.
  I like riding bikes.  They’re cheap to run and zippy as hell through the traffic.  I also like to speed past grandmas that drive like snails, without having to wait for a break in the bloody oncoming traffic.  I want to upgrade once I get off my P-plates, to a 650.  But I love my bike; it’s mine and it’s in my name!

Silas is playing
Playstation
on some
Starlight Foundation
game console, and we’re just hanging, waiting for the lunch tray to be collected.  He’s going home in two days.

Two people knock on the door and enter.

The first is a man in grey trousers and a light blue polo shirt.  He’s gotta be about 35 and rather uneventful looking... blue eyes, a bit of scruff on his face and a crew cut.  Body is fairly average, he’s nowhere near as tall as me; probably around five eight. 

The woman is mousy and small too.  She’s dark hair and eyes, light skin and wearing a dress suit
; but I can see she has a bit of the bulldog in her; she’s got fight in her, despite the mousy appearance.  She’ll be pushing 50.

They’re looking directly at Silas
, who’s been so prodded and poked and looked at by complete strangers, that he doesn’t even notice them anymore.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“And you are?” she asks...
Excuse me?  Didn’t I just kind of imply that first?

“Silas’ sister
, Jade!” I answer.

“Oh... we didn’t realise you were here.” She apologises
; kind of.

“So can I ask who you are?”  I reply, standing to give myself height advantage.

The man leans across the bed with his hand outstretched, “I’m Phil, and this is Robin.  We work for the Department of Community Services.” He says smiling.

I almost drop his hand like he’s a disease.

“DOCs?  Why are you here?” I ask guardedly.

“We were informed by your grandparents this morning that they no longer believe
that they can take care of Silas, so we’re here to have a chat with him.”  She explains.

“What?  What do you mean?  They didn’t say anything to me!”  I argue
; beginning to get flustered.  “And what about Silas... should he have someone here to help him be interviewed by you?  I mean... I’m guessing you’re interviewing him!”  I accuse.

“Yes... we will be having a talk with Silas.  We’ve got a lot to do to get him made comfortable
in two days time.”  The woman says.

“He’ll come to live with me!”  I blurt out.  I don’t really think about what I am saying, but he’s family
; we’re family, and that’s what family do! 
Don’t they?

“How old are you and where do you live?” Phil asks, pulling out a notepad and leaning on the little table.
  The movement makes Silas gingerly sit up and take notice.  He starts watching what’s going on.

“I’m 19, and I’m crashing at a friend’s place at the moment, because I normally live on campus, and we have to vacate during the holidays.” I explain.

“Hmmm... and what sort of finances have you got access to in order to support a child?” he asks, writing furiously.

“I... have a little money, but I can
always go and get some government support.  I was working at a pub on Darby Street, but I was going home for a bit and...” I trail off.  They’re looking at me like I wasn’t cut out for this.  And as I’m talking, it has become increasingly clear that they might be right.

“I
’ll make any changes you suggest to keep my brother with me.” I advise stoically.

The woman sighs...
Rhonda was it?

“You would need to find accommodation that is suitable for Silas,
and you’d have to organise forms and payments from Social Security; you’d also have to consider changing your university to part-time and find more work; and after that, we can talk.  Until all those things can be done, you’ll need to allow us to make alternative arrangements.”  She says.

“I want to live with Jade.” Silas states.

“Could we talk to your brother for a bit?”  Phil asks, not unkindly.  I leave the room in a stupor...
Can this situation get any worse?

***

Yes... yes it can!

“Gran, what do you mean you can’t do it?”  I ask angrily down the phone.

“He’s a lot of hard work Jade.  He gets into trouble all the time at school, and we’re getting too old to run after little children.”  She says; it sounds like whinging to me.  Besides, Silas isn’t a little child, he’s nearly a teenager.

“I’ll help wherever I can!”  I lament.

“And you’ll always be welcome dear... it’s just Silas... well, he’s so hard!” she explains.

It dawns on me
; they don’t want Silas, because of all his shit!  I can kind of understand, but he’s their flesh and blood!

“But this is family!” I complain.

“We aren’t equipped to deal with him honey!”  She replies.

“Can’t you just take him till I get sorted out, and then I promise, I’ll take him to live with me!”  I plead.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, we just can’t do it!”  She refuses.

I feel like a lump of coal has been placed in my chest, in the space that
my heart used to be.  So without further thought, I hang up and scream at the wall in front of me.

I’m on my own.  I have no support, and nobody seems to care that both Silas and I are suffering too.  We have only each other left, and even the mother of my
own mother can’t see past her grief and pain to understand that her own flesh and blood are having to do what she should be doing.

I understand that my Gran thinks that children shouldn’t die before their
parents and that it makes her grief more; but come on, I disagree.  I don’t think there is a sliding scale of pain experienced here. 

Silas is 12, and only has
us left... he’s lost everything he should have in order to grow; and now he’s also being abandoned by two people meant to be in his corner. 

I’m 19, and I’ve just committed myself to getting my shit together to raise a child, through the most difficult years of a
kid’s life; and I don’t have any skills or knowledge on how to do it!

But he’s my brother... he’s my flesh and blood
; and if my grandparents can’t see their responsibilities right in front of their eyes; I will!  I’m not blind; I’ll take him on, and I’ll give him everything I can, because that’s what family do, it’s what they should do, and it’s what I will do!

Silas is my responsibility, and I’ll make every effort, because I’m the only one he has left... and I love him!

***

“Hello?” I gush
; I’ve been waiting for this call for hours.  I woke at the crack of dawn so I wouldn’t miss him calling me.  It’s now 9:00 am, and I start work at 10:00am, to cater for all the lonely Christmas crowd.

“Merry Christmas.” Silas says
flatly over the phone.  It’s a private number, and I’m not allowed to have it.  I have been making requests all week to have Silas with me, but the family he is with wouldn’t allow it.  Apparently, they couldn’t make it into Newcastle from Maitland, it’s about a 30 minute drive; and I wasn’t allowed to take Silas on my bike; especially since I’m not allowed to double on my Ps anyway.

I did request that I be allowed to visit, but that got thrown back in my face in seconds.

I haven’t seen him since he left the hospital, twelve days ago.

I’m spending Christmas alone, in a flat in Broadmeadow, which I moved into on the 18
th.  There are two rooms, a kitchen and a lounge.  There is also a bathroom, which is the size of a small ensuite.  I’ve used up every cent I had to not only pay the bond and two weeks rent for this roach infested sweatbox; but to buy second hand furniture, kitchen goods, and dining items... like plates, forks and cups.  I had thought on going to Armidale and getting our stuff when I had some more money, and Silas to help me, but this place is disgusting; I don’t want nice stuff here. 

I’ve gone back to work and I’m taking everything that Warren can throw at me, which right now is every day, since they still won’t let me have my brother.

I feel like I’ve done something wrong.  I feel like they look at me like I abused him... like he’s so fucked up in the head because of me.  I can only imagine what that family think, with all of Silas’ drugs and counselling; and his battle wounds from the car and tree.  Apparently they don’t get told why he’s in care.  They probably think that our parents are in gaol, that we are despicable and easy to despise people; I wish I had some say in all this.  I wish they’d hurry this God damn process up!

Silas doesn’t like it where he is, and his anger towards me is apparent, because he’s constantly asking me
angrily why I’m not coming for him.  I tell him the truth, but I’m just another adult telling him shit... and he’s scared, sad and...
fuck
... he’s really sad!

When he hangs up, I scream at my ceiling and bash my fists into the wall.

Damn... I’ve made a hole in the thin board.  I’ll have to patch it up now, before Phil and her come to inspect this rat hole!

“Fuck it!” I shout to nothing
; “I’m going to work early!”

...January...

“No, no, no, no!  This w
on’t do!  He can’t live here!” Roxanne, or whatever her name is, starts grumbling.

I’ve patched the hole in the wall and cleaned the place till it’s sparkling more than it had previously... okay, it’s not sparkling
; but despite the wet carpet smell, I did manage to get rid of the mould.  But it is what it is, and I agree that it’s shit.  Especially given that it’s a sweltering 38 degree day, after a week of rain.

“It’s what I could afford!”  I sheepishly explain
, when all I really want to do is to grab her stomach, push my hands inside and rip out her intestines; she’s just a mega bitch!

“Okay... it is bad... but maybe we can do something.” Phil
insists; trying to repair my damaged family.  He’s the good cop. He’s always trying to be nice.

“What can be done about this hovel Phil?  It’s almost a condemned building!” Rosanna... Rhonda... whatever... she complains.

“Who did you rent through?” Phil asks me.

“RentMax.” I reply.

“Okay... he has rentals all over the greater Newcastle area... We can transfer this bond across if I talk to him and explain... we’ll look at getting you a better apartment.  Silas needs to be settled with you before school starts if this is going to work!” he states, smiling.

She
just walks outside with a grunt to go and have a ciggie.  I’m wondering how the smoke would look, seeping out from her slit throat; gurgling up through all that blood and sinew.

I still haven’t seen Silas... it’s been
over a month.

***

“We’re wasting time... we have other clients to see Phil.” Robin protests ... yep, her name is Robin.  Phil reminded me; and I remembered just in time that it’s illegal to slit a social worker’s throat; even if they do qualify for the biggest bitch of the year award.  So, no... I didn’t get to see smoke drift through her sliced and diced throat.

We’ve been to the offices of RentMax and Phil has personally spoken to the property manager
; out of my hearing, and somehow, I’ve been let out of my lease; as long as I take on one of the three other properties the same owner has.  The only one that bad cop Robin will allow me to even look at is double the price of my previous apartment; at $300 per week, it is located in East Hamilton.

I’m getting out of the back seat
of their vehicle, while looking at the property.  It’s a big improvement on the apartment; for starters, it’s a free standing house; a very skinny free standing house, certainly!  But nonetheless, it’s a house.  With a yard, and a shed.

“This is what you need to consider.”
Robin says snidely, pulling out a ciggie.

I snap and I see red.

“You need to consider the cost to the tax payers for your disgusting smoking habit.  It’s people like me that pay for your care through the Medicare system; and then bust my back giving you the time of day when you’re sick in hospital; when there are people who are out there, really sick from not inflicting their brand of suicide stick.” I lash out.  I don’t give a fuck actually; kill yourself bitch, just stop being a rude cunt to me while you’re at it.

I know I shouldn’t lash out
; but she’s way ruder than me; and she knows this house is too much for me to pay on the government assisted payments I would be living off of while finishing up uni.  I would have to cut back on work hours seriously in order to go back in March.  I feel the hot tears building up in my eyes and my chest feels constricted... tight... painful.