UNDAUNTED (One step at a time)

2

She woke up that day feeling like hell and walking to her to her bathroom, Claire discovered that she sure looked like hell. Her face was rather puffy from crying herself to sleep and her head banged heavily. She turned on the faucet and began washing her face hoping to look better but when she looked up, it was clear she was going to look horrible all day. She made up her mind not to go out until she was certain everyone was out of the house. She began brushing her teeth and had a quick shower before going to sit on her chair in the room.

All that was crossing her mind at the moment were questions and thoughts of what might be wrong with her. She had tried her best and even now tried to pick the book by her side which had been sitting in the room for years now. The more she looked at it, the less she understood what it was saying. Her case was actually that extreme that it would take her a very long time to make out words. What baffled everyone was that save for the fact that she could not make out anything, Claire had a powerful memory.

She heard things being taught and would be able to recount it like a computer but when it goes down to the business of putting it down in writing, she flopped. It was not intentional act on her side but she just could not conjure up words to describe in writing what she had in mind. Several times it had been recommended that her mother take her to a psychologist but Jane would rather cease breathing than go through the shame of having her daughter visit a shrink. That would be uncalled as well as unheard of. She was not going to risk being called the mother of a dullard by the media. Then at a point, one of her teachers back then had asked that Claire be taken to a special school. Her mother of course had refused saying that there was nothing special about her daughter who had just decided not to learn.

Right now, fresh tears began pouring from her eyes as she was trying to read the novel. Each time she looked at it, it seemed like a part of her brain was getting torn apart and the words dancing causing her to go dizzy. Claire slammed the book shut and threw it across the room. She put her head on her desk and resumed crying when there was a knock on her door. She sat up and listened but her mother obviously was not willing to set eyes on her.

She began leaving instructions that Claire was not to set foot outside of the house and was to make sure everything they had discussed was being done. She would not want to get back and find that she was still not done. What a mother, Claire thought as she heard her receding steps from her door. She overhead Tom asking her mother if Claire was okay but she did not hear anything from her mother. She heard the door slam shut and an engine start. She walked over to her window as she watched Tom pull away the car with her mother inside. There were two cars but since they worked in the same establishment, the two would always go to work together in the same car. They deserved each other but she could not say what she deserved. She decided to step out of her room finally and get something to suite her growling stomach.

Claire walked into the kitchen and stood watching and thinking about what she was going to do. Yes, this was her favourite thing to do, cooking. Somehow it seemed to be the only thing she does that takes her mind off her troubles. Something rubbed itself on her leg and she looked down to find Miller. He was mewing and obviously hungry. The cat was her best friend in the whole world and was the last give she received from her mother years ago. Perhaps, that was the only reason she did not entirely hate Jane, she was mean as a hornet but still had given her solace. Although Claire was certain that if the woman discovered what the cat means to her, she would not hesitate to get rid of it.

Claire smiled and bent over to pat him on the head. She walked over to the refrigerator and fetch a box of milk which she always kept for him. She was certain that her mother did not feed the cat as always and went to pour out a good quantity for him. While he fed, she went back to the kitchen area. It was time she checked her banging head and puffy eyes before getting something ready to eat. Claire took some pieces of ice which she put in a clean piece of clothing before dabbing her forehead and under her eyes with it. She went to seat by the work island as she placed it on her forehead allowing the cool effect send her to a world so calm and perfect. Eventually she began feeling better and the ice began melting, it had been a while before she eventually got rid of the things she was using. It was time to get down to the business of cooking.

She went upstairs to fetch her phone and headset. Putting up her favourite music Claire began performing the wonders she always did in the kitchen. Left for her, she would have become a chef as that obviously was her calling. By the time she was done fixing herself a good sandwich for breakfast, she felt satiated.

A thought crossed her mind. Dark thoughts actually, she wanted to go upstairs and pack up. The only difference was that she was not going to wait for her mother, she was only going to sneak away from the house. But then a counter thought crossed her mind as well, it was of things she had seen on television sometimes about how a teenager tries to get away from her parents and end up with a serial killer. She did not want to wind up dead somewhere with her guts spilling all over. She was going to pack up however but that would be after tidying up the area.

She had just dropped the dishes in the sink when the telephone began ringing. It ran over and over again that she was really frustrated and went to answer. Everyone who knew her parents well would understand just where they would be at that time of the day. She yanked the receiver and put it in her ear.

"Hello?," she said

"Claire?," the familiar voice she had not heard in so many years said

"Dad?," she called surprised to her bone marrow.