The Irony of Life

Submitted into Contest #89 in response to: Write about someone who is always looking toward the future.... view prompt

0 comments

Coming of Age Contemporary LGBTQ+

C/W: Self-harm

 

There was something strange about Sylvia Bright. One moment she was at the cafeteria of New High School, chattering gaily with her friends. Then the next, she was hiding inside the bathroom stall and cutting her skin with a razor blade. It did not take long for Sylvia to be tracked inside the campus. By the time she was discovered and rushed to the emergency room, Sylvia was already struggling to remain conscious. The incident was reported to the school's administration office.

 

When asked about their daughter, Mrs. Lorrie Bright and Mr. Ted Bright responded only to what they had observed. My Syvie is a good and happy child, Mrs. Lorrie said with as much emphasis on the word "good and happy" that she can muster.

 

"With all due respect Mrs. Bright, Sylvia is no longer a child, Sylvia is a teenager, a minor who is in need of-of parental supervision," replied Mrs. Faulkner, the head of NHS. Mrs. Faulkner is the last living founder of New High. She is a well-known activist and was once a famous athlete. Not for the first time in her life had she encountered cases similar to Sylvia's. Yet what struck her as the most striking in Sylvia's case was that same phrase emphasized by Mrs. Bright, Sylvia is indeed good and happy. Is she not?

 

 

Sylvia Bright is the only child of the Bright couple. She was raised in a beautiful home in Hampton, Texas. Her mother whom she gained her rich copper brown skin is currently studying pre-med, while her father Mr. Ted Bright does real estate in Texas. It was last year when Sylvia was voted the queen of the campus. Despite her attempt at being unknown, Sylvia's conspicuous beauty did nothing but encouraged her male and female admirers inside the campus. Sylvia felt like prey surrounded by predators. A few days before her suicidal attempt, Sylvia had already decided she was different. Her unhappy months with Luke Smith, Sylvia's boyfriend had only confirmed her suspicions. Sylvia is not attracted to men. It took her years to finally decide she was homosexual. At first, Sylvia taught that all she needed was to explore. Maybe Luke was not the right man for Sylvia.

It was the night of the Prom when Sylvia made an awful mistake. She was drunk and exhilarated that she grabbed Lucille's hand, (Sylvia's ex-best friend) and dragged her towards the wall away from the party, where their shadows are the only conspicuous thing in the night. She kissed Lucille on her neck and mouthed words that she could no longer remember. Lucille retaliated and slapped her on the cheek, thus end their friendship.

 

It was not the identity crisis nor was it Sylvia's unrequited infatuation with her ex-best friend Lucille Child that urged her to slit her wrist with a razor inside the fetid bathroom of NHS. Rather, it was the lack of courage in confiding her true self to her parents.

 

Ted Bright is a real estate agent slash media influencer. His popularity has benefited him in vocalizing his opinions to the public whether harsh or positive. His religious preoccupations greatly influenced his opinions on the papers and on the media. Therefore, although liberal in nature, Ted Bright is vocal in his contradictions on homosexuality. 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------

 

Following the advice of Mrs. Faulkner. Sylvia Bright is scheduled for a monthly session with a licensed counselor named Hannah Thorn. In addition to this, Sylvia had taken the initiative to volunteer in the Texas Hospice Care for three months only to avoid the campus's attention.

 

The first time Sylvia set foot in the grey decrepit building of Texas Hospice Center, Sylvia was certain that she was going to cut herself again. Only when she arrived at the foyer had Sylvia realized that this place looks like a haven for ghosts. Great. With her footsteps echoing in the hallway, Sylvia was greeted with a faint smell of bleach. It reminded her of hospitals, yet this place looked more like an old apartment. Voices echoed behind the corridor and as she emerged from the widely opened door, Sylvia was greeted by a taut middle-aged woman wearing a pink scrub suit and huge circular glasses.

 

"Hey, can I help you?" the woman asked looking bewildered at Sylvia's presence.

 

Before Sylvia can reply, the woman nodded her puckered lips replaced by a small o in realization. "Ohh, you're the volunteer?" she asked. Sylvia nodded. "I'm Maureen, THS Head nurse, come," she gestured for Sylvia to follow.

 

 

"There are twenty patients here miss Bright. Some same as your age, others older than you're parents. All of which are terminally ill." Maureen said a matter of factly. Sylvia glanced at the doors they passed on the hallway, all of which have a medium-sized bed and a lamplight. "No need to worry about diapers and stuff, we have caregivers here, your only task is to talk to them, make them feel a little bit better," Maureen added.

 

They halted in the wide living room where patients huddled on a wide cushion their eyes fixed on the television set.

 

"Hey, Murrato, Marrione, Alexi!" Maureen shouted. "Meet Miss. Sylvia Bright here, she's our new volunteer." Three faces turned towards Sylvia. One of which rolled his eyes and turned back towards the TV. "Oh come on Alexi! No need for hostility," Maureen uttered. She tapped Sylvia on the shoulder and shrugged.

 

"Alexi is twenty-three years old, he hates girls," Maureen said jokingly. "Stop it, Mauriee" the young man called Alexi remarked.

 

Alexi stood up and strutted towards Sylvia. "I saw your dad on tv," he said, halting beside the head nurse. It struck Sylvia how young he was. His face pink on the cheeks, his brows tilt slightly towards his grass-green eyes. "I think he's a hypocrite," he commented rather harshly. Sylvia frowned. "That's enough Alexi," Maureen warned, her sprightly countenance replaced by displeasure. Alexi shrugged and stared defiantly at Sylvia. "Well it's the truth isn't it blondie?" He crossed his arms under his chest, his tongue poking on his cheek. A rhetorical question, Sylvia decided. A

April 14, 2021 05:52

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.