Body & Soul полностью

Tyler pushed away from her, sniffling loudly, and fled the room. Mrs. Turner watched him go, with a sigh. After a second his feet thudded up the steps, and the door to the upstairs creaked open and then banged shut.

Mrs. Turner turned back to me, looking weary. “I know things are difficult for you,” she said. “But we're trying, Lily… Ally. It would be nice if you could, too.”

I jerked back as if she'd slapped me. “I am trying,” I said through gritted teeth. In fact, all I ever did was try.

She shook her head. “You don't want to talk to us.”

Because I kept saying the wrong things, which only upset everyone even more.

“You don't want to look at the photo albums or home videos to help you remember,” she continued.

Hello, photos and videos without context don't mean anything. And if I tried to ask questions to get that context, it would only highlight exactly how much I didn't remember, i.e., EVERYTHING. I was trapped.

“I offer to take you shopping, like today, or out to dinner, or whatever you want, but you always say no. You spend most of your time down here alone, like you're hiding from us.” She lifted her hands in exasperation.

I fought the urge to shout at her, Duh! Sometimes I retreated to my room because I was avoiding the ghost of Granny Simmy, who haunted the armchair upstairs and spent a lot of time yelling at her living relatives. But yeah, most of the time I was dodging the fam. Who wouldn't? Nearly every word out of my mouth was the wrong one and resulted in people crying or staring at me like I'd grown another head. It was a little stressful being constantly on edge about what I said and did and how I said and did it. Even worse in a one-on-one situation like a mother-daughter outing. And shopping? God. I couldn't even act like Lily; how was I supposed to shop like her? Based solely on the contents of her closet, I'd have to assume that she was trying to look bad. She'd had no sense of her own body shape or the correct color palette for her skin tone.

“So…” Mrs. Turner said, leaning back against the door frame, as though she needed the support. “I'm beginning to think maybe Tyler isn't the only one. Maybe I don't know who you are, either. My daughter isn't a quitter.” The look she gave me was full of hurt and more than a touch of resentment.

Like this was all my fault? I dug my fingernails into my palms, struggling against the urge to scream.

Yes, technically, it was my fault I was stuck here, but I wasn't failing intentionally. I don't fail. I NEVER fail. But this… this was an impossible task. Maybe if I'd known Lily better, or if we'd been more similar to begin with… but that was not the case. Instead, I had to keep banging my head against a wall that was never going to fall, tiptoeing across a minefield without so much as a map. And no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was never quite good enough. And nobody even appreciated the effort; that was the worst part. The Turners, of course, had no way to know, but Will did, and he was right up there on the bitching bandwagon.

Something inside me snapped. Screw it. All of it. Will could have his perfect Lily, Tyler his confusing and contradictory sister, and the Turners their innocent and naive little flower of a daughter. I was done. If I was going to be stuck in here for God only knew how long, then I was going to be stuck my way.

I stood up, ignoring the jolt of pain in my leg. “I am not her. I am not the Lily you knew.” My words were cold and precise. If Will were here, he'd have been freaking out. Too bad.

Mrs. Turner flinched, but I kept going. If there was even a hope of me sticking it out with the Turners, things had to change. Right now.

“I am sorry, more than you know, but I can't do this. I can't be her,” I said simply. “And every time you compare me to her, it makes things worse.”

“You make it sound like you're a totally different person,” she said with a weak laugh, dabbing at her eyes, which were overflowing.

“Are you the same person you were five years ago? Ten?” I demanded.

She looked surprised at the question. “I don't—”

“It may not be time that's the issue here, but I'm not who I was before the accident.” That was as close as I dared come to the truth. “I don't remember what you want me to remember. I don't know the things you want me to know.”

I heard the desperation in my voice and hated it. I raked my hands through my hair, too fine and flat to my fingers. I was wearing it that way because that's how Lily had. God, everything was about Lily, how she would act, what she would say… I couldn't stand it anymore. “I can't even say I want mustard without everyone acting like I'm speaking Russian or something. It's just a freaking condiment!” I swiped at the dampness on my face, cursing Lily's overactive tear ducts.

“Honey, it's okay…” Mrs. Turner began, starting to cross the room toward me, her hand extended.

I shook my head. “No, it's not.”

She stopped and lowered her hand to her side.