Two of You

Two of You(Hallie) The kitchen was almost at a hush except for the slight screeching of the silverware against the delicate china. The silent routine had become engraved in their minds. Be quiet for the most part and be careful with your words. The Donovans passed the food around in their subdued practice. Mrs. Donovan studied Joni as she picked away at a loaf of bread, as usual. Her eyes locked with her husband’s, giving her a way to bring his focus to their daughter’s plate.
“Joni, sweet heart, aren’t you hungry?” Mr. Donovan asked, watching his daughter’s hands apathetically tear apart the bread into pieces.
Her sunken in eyes greeted his, revealing a lack of trust. “Sort of,” she replied, barely audible.
“Would you like some chicken?”
“I can’t”
“But if you’re hungry,” he insisted.
“She wouldn’t want me too,” Joni answered, a slight irritability beaming from her eyes.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Mrs. Donovan contributed, her words cutting the tension like a knife. The two pairs of eyes met hers before returning to their plates in unison.

The Donovan’s picked their words wisely, always dancing around heavy topics in a delicate fashion. “The mall is full of sales Joni. We should try to head over one day this week,” Mrs. Donovan suggested, followed by her husband talking about what he’d heard on the news this morning. These types of questions had been embossed into their minds, slipping out of their mouth with little thought at all. The Donovan’s had been accustomed to the procedure, although their efforts weren’t always successful.

Mrs. Donovan cleared her throat and began again. “Miss. Havenson called. She wanted me to ask when you think you’ll be headed to school this week, she doesn’t want you to get too far behind.”
“I went last Wednesday, isn’t that enough?”
“We just don’t want you to see you fall behind, that’s all.”
“I get it,” Joni answered. Displaying some resentment towards the subject, she looked up from her plate, drawing her eyes to her mother. Mrs. Donovan looked away at her daughter’s glance, fearing her words had caused some trouble amongst her daughter. Joni briefly saw the discomfort in her mother’s eyes. “I would try,” she said as a way of trying to ease her mother’s emotions, “but she hates school.”
“Why?” asked Alex. Although he was older than Joni it sometimes seemed as if he wasn’t much wiser.

Mr. and Mrs. Donovan shot their son an exasperated look. Alex had remained quiet for most of the meal but quickly let the routine slip his mind. Even if for a brief moment, it could still cause a problem. Alex shrugged at his parents in an attempt to admit his wrong doings to his parents. Despite how clear his parents always made it that he should be quiet; it seemed as if he never fully understood the severity of his sister’s condition.
Between the looks being exchanged, Joni chimed in, bringing her voice to a soft whisper. “She prefers when we’re alone.”
Alex sympathetically smiled at his sister before returning to his plate, where he would stay fixated for the rest of the dinner, making no sound at all.

Their eyes would wander briefly, rarely falling onto Joni but when they did their gaze would trace her neck and shoulders before they would deviate down her arms, to her tattered wrists. Purple and blue bruises covered her ivory skin like paint on a canvas. Her wrists were slashed, covered in tiny cuts they assumed came from a razor. It wasn’t until she rubbed her neck that they noticed the slight forming of handprints there.
Mrs. Donovan tried to bite her tongue but the caustic effects of her daughter’s condition forced the words right out of her mouth. “Sweetie, please don’t get upset with me, but where did those come from?

Joni remained quiet, refusing to respond to her mother’s concern. She stared at her plate, pushing crumbs of bread back and forth with her fork.
Mrs. Donovan could feel herself becoming hot beneath her sweater. Her vision blurred as a warm gloss coated her eyes and puddled in the corners. “Did she do this to you?” Mrs. Donovan added, the words slowly escaping through her cracking voice. Joni still did not reply, giving the Donovans a reason to believe Mrs. Donovan’s assumptions were true.
Mr. Donovan could feel the tension, his eyes meeting Alex’s, encouraging him to excuse himself from the table. In silence, Alex obeyed his father’s wishes, leaving his sister with his parents alone at the kitchen table.
Joni began to fidget with her hands. The jerky movements assured the Donovans they wouldn’t have much longer.
“Why did she do it?” asked Mr. Donovan. He watched as his wife turned to him, her eyes meeting his to thank him for the words she couldn’t manage to choke out.

Joni looked up from the mess on her plate, staring at her parents long and hard. An inexorable expression clouded her face, catching them off guard. “I told her to leave. She was mad at me for that.”
Mr. Donovan focused his attention back to his wife, seeing that his daughter’s remark had put her in a doleful state. He picked up his dish as well as his wife’s and placed them on the counter.
Mr. Donovan turned to his daughter, watching as she walked away from the table and headed towards the stairs. “Joni, what don’t you try to take some medicine today?”
She turned to her father, refusing to show any emotion. “Medicine makes her go away.”
Mr. and Mrs. Donovan sat at the table, consoling each other while awaiting their daughter’s return.
A few minutes later their daughter emerged from her bedroom, wearing a different shirt than before.
Mrs. Donovan wiped her tears before turning to her daughter with a smile, “Joni, would you like some dessert?”
She looked at her mother, scathingly replying to her lighthearted question. “Joni’s not here anymore.”