“Why is this so hard?”

Remy didn’t rush to try to answer Allison’s question. It was a simple question, and it seemed as if it should be just as simple to answer. Dredging up old memories wasn’t particularly complicated; in fact, if anything, the challenge was most often found in trying to keep them hidden beneath the surface. No matter how she tried to rationalize it, though, Remy couldn’t deny that the fact that it was simple did nothing to make it easy. Even though those memories bubbled to the surface like oil, they were just as hard to grab and hold whenever she wanted to. Judging by the look of frustration tinged with fear that she saw in Allison’s expression, Remy suspected for the first time that she wasn’t the only one who felt that way about it.

For a brief moment, Remy was tempted to suggest a change of subject. She didn’t have a good answer or even a suggestion as to how to proceed, but she wasn’t about to give up on bringing an end to Allison’s discomfort. Seeing her unhappy sparked something that Remy couldn’t ignore, a drive to bring an end to Allison’s suffering every bit as strongly as if it had been her own. Ironically, it was remembering her own suffering was the only thing tempering her urge to act. When Allison tried to extend the same courtesy to her earlier and offered an opportunity to let her demons rest rather than drag them out of hiding, it immediately became apparent that the only thing worse than wrestling with those demons was willingly allowing them to rest. Wondering if that was something else that was the same for Allison as it was for her changed attempting to talk her out of what she was about to do from an act of mercy into an injustice.

Interestingly, it was that thought that triggered a flash of inspiration. She looked at Allison, her features contorted by concentration and sadness, and she saw something that seemed strangely familiar. The pain and frustration she saw didn’t look familiar, but it reminded her of the same emotions she’d felt too many times to count, most recently just before beginning her own story. If she wasn’t simply imagining the similarities between their situations, there might be something she could do after all. She didn’t feel in any way qualified to guide anyone through something like this but, at the very least, she could say that she’d made the same journey herself on more than one occasion. It wasn’t something she’d ever wish on anyone else—least of all Allison—but something else that was familiar in Allison’s expression was the determination to keep moving forward. As much as she felt that she didn’t know Allison as well as she’d like to, one thing that Remy had learned very quickly was that Allison wasn’t one to be dissuaded once she’d set her mind to something. If putting an end to the pain wasn’t an option, then nothing was going to stop Remy from enduring it with her.

“I don’t know if it will help you the same way it helped me, but…well…I’m guessing that you remember what happened, but there’s just that little painful feeling that won’t let you say what you’re thinking. The words are there, but there’s something stopping them from coming out.”

Allison looked up in shock, her eyes wide as she nodded. After a moment, she gave a weak smile. “I don’t know why I’m surprised that you get me at this point. What do you do when you can’t say what you’re thinking?”

There was a moment’s hesitation as Remy came to terms with what she was about to suggest, hoping against hope that she was making the right decision in admitting the truth. “Do it anyway.”

Allison watched her expectantly for a moment before her expression faded into unease. “You…you mean…?”

Remy sighed, the reaction being what she’d expected but somehow worse than she’d feared. In that moment, she gladly would’ve relived her own experience ten more times rather than encourage Allison to relive hers once, but that wasn’t the task in front of her. Instead, she strengthened her resolve and followed her own advice. “I’m not saying it’s a good idea…just that it’s the only one I have that I know works.”

Again, Allison nodded. She turned her eyes downward as her look of concentration returned. “Okay…okay. Just start somewhere.”

There was a small amount of comfort to be taken from seeing that Allison’s determination hadn’t been shaken, but Remy knew better than to think that she was anywhere near being able to relax. Allison was still determined, but she was also still stuck at the point of deciding where to begin. Realizing that she had the advantage of not being burdened by the weight of memories this time, it occurred to Remy that the best thing she could do in the moment was to try to clear a path that could be followed.

“As long as I’m talking about things that worked for me…how about starting with when you decided to leave?”

Remy was wary of getting excited too early, but she couldn’t help feeling hopeful when she saw some of the tension in Allison’s face ease slightly in response to the suggestion. “It’s…hard to say. It wasn’t just one moment where I’d had enough. I got to that point too many times to count, and leaving happened slowly. I’d been low contact with my family for years before I cut them off completely.” After a quiet moment, she added, “I remember the first time I had the thought, though. It was right before junior prom.”

Fearful of overwhelming Allison needlessly with questions, Remy attempted to draw reasonable conclusions on her own first. No matter how much she thought about it, though, she couldn’t imagine how prom could be a catalyst for disowning one’s family. It wasn’t entirely surprising when she considered how little she knew about it; she hadn’t even bothered with either of her own. Lacking options, she finally relented as the unnecessary became the inevitable.

“Why? What happened?”

Allison’s expression turned hard and bitter, contorted into an alarming expression that Remy had never seen her wear. “They decided that two dresses in my prom photos was one too many.” Remy wondered what her own face looked like to cause Allison’s to suddenly soften and become sympathetic. “That by itself wasn’t that bad…well…you know what I mean. It was more shocking than anything. I…would typically get away with doing whatever I wanted, so I’d never really been told I couldn’t do something before. When the shock wore off, though…that was when it got bad.”

Already seething, Remy forced herself to remember what she was there to do and pushed herself to carry on through clenched teeth. “It got worse?”

“Unfortunately. It was a shock because they had a problem with it all of a sudden and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it was a secret that we were dating. They’d even said that it was cute, so it didn’t make any sense that it was suddenly an issue.”

Remy went over the details in her mind several times, but she kept arriving at the same conclusion. “It doesn’t make sense. If they started out being supportive, then what exactly was the expectation other than that you’d keep doing what you were already doing in the first place? I mean, who else would you take to prom? Not that it makes sense that prom would be the thing that broke them.”

“Not prom, really…it was the prom pictures. When I didn’t immediately back down, my mother finally let it slip that it was the pictures that were the real problem. They…had something of thing for collecting mementos from their kids.”

Something about the way Allison flinched when she hesitated filled Remy with dread, but she knew that was because it was indicating something significant. It was no time to falter. “Something tells me that it’s worse than just scrapbooking.”

For a moment, Allison looked as if she might be sick. “That’s how they referred to it, but…it was more like a shrine. All of our accomplishments and every significant moment from our lives was on display in…dad called it ‘the trophy room,’ but was really just a bedroom filled with junk. There were a few other things in there like my parents’ diplomas, but it was mostly stuff from the kids. Every report card, sports trophy and science fair ribbon was on display in there somewhere.”

Initially, Remy’s assumption was that the appropriate thing to do was to say that it was nice that they went through so much trouble to show how proud they were of their children. It seemed like the polite thing to say, especially when her true feelings about it were so unpleasant. Seeing how much it bothered Allison just to describe it to her, it was obvious that there was more to it than that. Arguably even worse was that even without Allison’s change in demeanor for context, Remy didn’t like the sound of such a thing one bit. She was equal parts worried and hopeful that she was simply projecting, but it sounded too extreme to be innocuous. It was hard to imagine that anything good could come of it.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“I really wish I could read your mind.”

Remy looked up, only realizing how long she’d been thinking about what to say when she saw that Allison was doing her best to patiently wait to hear it. She nearly defaulted to a polite response, worried about being the one to insult Allison’s family even though she seemed ready to do so herself. Seeing Allison’s expectation in her expression, however, it quickly became clear what the proper course of action really was. There was only one thing Allison ever seemed to want from her, and it wasn’t to go against her instincts.

“I was just thinking that it sounds…disturbing. I mean, it would be one thing if it was a shelf or a mantle or even a display case, but an entire bedroom? It…well, it sounds insane.”

Allison’s expression was blank as she quietly spoke. “Insane? Disturbing?”

A wave of panic washed over Remy, but it was too late to change her mind about being honest. “I don’t like to think about what it must’ve been like trying to live up to those kinds of expectations, especially an entire bedroom full of them. Nobody sets aside space for showing off if they don’t intend to use it.”

Another wave of panic began to build as Allison continued to stare blankly, driving Remy to scramble to form an apology until she saw Allison’s eyes begin to overflow. She fell forward and collapsed against Remy’s chest, sobbing quietly while clutching Remy’s top in her fists. Not certain what it meant or exactly how what she’d said had caused it, Remy could only hold her and hope that it comforted her. It seemed to have made some difference as Allison pressed herself harder into Remy when she felt arms gently wrapping themselves around her.

Remy lost track of time, not caring about anything other than finding a way to bring an end to the pain. She wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or concerned about how long it took for Allison to gather herself enough to speak again. “I seriously don’t know why I’m still surprised that you understand. You…you always understand.”

Holding back a sigh of several different sources of relief, Remy reached for her purse and started searching for tissue. “It was just a guess based on experience. I easily could’ve been completely wrong—”

“Boop.”

There was too much relief coming from seeing that Allison was feeling more like herself for Remy to be frustrated. At the same time, there was still too much hanging in the air for her to be comfortable enough to smile. Suspecting that Allison would be ready to get back on task soon now that she seemed to have collected herself, she did her best to gently ease back into the conversation as she lifted a tissue and began carefully wiping away tears.

“A trophy room…honestly. It sounds like something my mother would’ve come up with.”

Allison’s smile was weak, but it was there. Remy took it as a sign that was more good than bad, at the very least. She closed her eyes and allowed Remy to blot away tears as her smile grew a little stronger. “I guess that’s why some of the things you said sounded familiar. You were absolutely right, though. They expected that room to be filled, and…well, filled with things worth putting on display. That was usually my job.”

“You? Why? How many siblings do you have?”

“Five. Three brothers and two sisters. I’m the youngest…which is probably where it started.”

Remy was getting the feeling that something of significance was happening again, though she couldn’t place exactly what it was. “Where what started?”

“Picking a favorite.” Allison looked up at Remy with the same unease that she had when talking about her various accomplishments earlier, as though expecting some sort of judgment to follow the confession. When Remy only patiently waited while checking to make sure her tissue hadn’t smeared any mascara, Allison cautiously continued. “We all had things we were good at, so someone was always coming home with something to hang on a wall or put on a shelf. With me, though, I was…well…I was just good at more things than everybody else and better at them. Not that much better, but…there was enough of a difference to notice. Everyone else did well in their classes, but I was usually the best in mine. I got older and the gap grew with me and…I guess my parents figured that they didn’t have to settle for excellence when they had perfection. At some point, I became the golden child…and everybody else suffered for it. It wasn’t until prom that I stopped to think about it long enough to realize what was happening.”

Remy put all of her effort into remaining silent. She was horrified, and she couldn’t think of a way to downplay it outside of saying nothing at all. Even without Allison’s confirmation, remembering her own sister made it easy to guess what kind of relationships would result from that kind of treatment. When she finally spoke, she put everything she could into keeping the tone of her voice even. “So…the prom pictures…”

“It turns out that they had some very specific ideas about where my life should be heading, and it apparently never occurred to them to run any of it by me until it started to look like I might be doing literally anything else.”

Bracing herself, Remy spit the question out of her mouth as if it was burning her, mostly because she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. “How specific?”

“They’d decided what I’d say during my valedictorian speech. They knew what college I was going to, and how I’d get in whether I was accepted or not. They know what kind of man I’d marry, based on earning potential and what our kids would look like. I’m going to have at least two but no more than three, by the way.”

Remy was seeing red, and Allison seemed to have noticed judging by the way she hurried to move the conversation along. “Up to that point, they basically let me do whatever I wanted to keep me happy…to keep me agreeable, I guess. I don’t think they really cared as long as I was producing, but that was the first time I’d produced something that went against what they had in mind for me. I…I think they panicked. I tried to reason with them, but it was like I was talking to two strangers. Everything I said bounced off of them. Any conversation I tried to start about my life or my future turned into an interrogation. Whenever I said that I didn’t want something they wanted, they started asking what I wanted instead. I fell for it every time.”

Somehow, Remy managed to unclench her jaw long enough to pose a question. “Fell for what, exactly?”

“I…thought they were asking because they cared. Because they actually wanted to hear what I had to say. Because I was getting through to them. It was really just about finding out what to take from me. If I expressed interest in something that didn’t fit in the pretty picture they’d painted, it wasn’t allowed. I had a girlfriend, so it wasn’t allowed. They went to her parents and the school and…I don’t know what they said or did, but it worked. No more girlfriend. Then I didn’t want to date at all. I was getting dragged along to dinners with ‘close family friends’ with sons my age. I loved baking. The school told me that I wasn’t allowed to sign up for any more food science classes. ‘You can still do what you want, but only if it’s good for you. You should be grateful instead of always complaining. You can’t have everything you want.’”

The only thing that was able to make Remy set her anger aside was the fact that remorse pushed it aside. Remembering her earlier words, she questioned making Allison happy for the first time. It was becoming difficult to consider being right to be worth doing harm in the process.

“You feel guilty for guessing what they’d said, don’t you?”

Remy flinched as she looked at Allison, unsettled by hearing her own thoughts narrated to her. Allison’s eyes were misting again, but it wasn’t enough to deter her smile. “I still can’t read you very well, but at least I’m getting there. Stop worrying about that, by the way. It…it makes me happy that you understand. Happier than I can tell you.”

It was difficult to understand how that could be the case, but Remy was relieved enough to be willing to take her word for it. “As long as I’m making you happy, I guess I can live with it.”

Her face began to burn immediately when she heard herself saying far more than she’d intended, but Remy’s resolve to keep to her word was tested when she saw Allison’s smile widen on hearing it. “Happier than I can tell you. I’m…not used to being able to talk about these kinds of things with anyone. For a while, that was all I wanted. Friends had to meet approval like everything else, so there was no hope there even if I’d had any that close to begin with. My brothers and sisters were the only ones left, and…I’d long since alienated them. I didn’t realize what was wrong with what I was doing until the damage was done. Not that they’d have understood…they suffered a whole lot longer than I did.”

For once, Remy wasn’t at a loss for words. If anything, she had far too many to choose from. She had a list of things she wanted to say, from reminding her that pain wasn’t a competition to telling her how none of it was her fault to devoting an hour or two to calling her parents every horrible thing that occurred to her. Seeing the sorrow that was beginning to weigh her down, however, Remy was reminded of her purpose in that moment and the best of her options suddenly became obvious. Taking Allison into her arms again, Remy kissed her cheek before holding her close.

“For the record…you can count on me, too.”