 |
the confession ft. Ophelia
*a reply to Ophelia's piece. Thanks to anyone that's been keeping up with the journey so far!
Lennon nervously followed behind Ophelia as she brought her to the back of the studio, her throat as dry as the Sahara desert with each step she took. Perhaps it was the reality of the situation sinking in, or maybe it was the sheer realization that this would most likely go poorly - but the woman found herself wanting to turn around and run straight to the airport. The quietness of the room only heightened the anxiety that coursed through her veins, and she wondered if her sister felt the same way she had.
A sigh exhales from her mouth as she sits, though she doesn’t stay seated for long. She felt like she needed to keep moving, choosing to pace the floor in front of Ophelia as she chewed the inside of her lip.
”So what can I help you with Lennon? What’s this about?”
F***.
It was now or never, but the words seemed to get stuck on her tongue just as she opened her mouth. Any plan she had previously envisioned dissipated the moment she stepped into the building, and she was left with the lingering feeling of not knowing what do to next.
Lennon stops her pacing momentarily, her head falling forward as she spins on her heel to face her sister. “I want to start by saying that it wasn’t my intention to come here and ambush you,” she says, her gaze shifting up to the other woman’s face. She can feel the tension linger around them and suddenly wished she never came. Her eyes fall back to the floor, hands nervously picking at the cuticles around her nail beds. “I found a photo. . . and you see, the photo was of my dad.”
Her gaze shifts up again, but quickly falls before continuing. “And there was a baby in the photo, too. . . At first, I thought it was me. . . but when I flipped it over, it said your name on the back.” Her heartbeat felt like it was going to pump out of her chest, and suddenly her hands felt clammy, and she wished she could shut up, but she was already in this deep. . .
“I think. . . I think you might be my sister, Ophelia.”
Lennon had hoped that the confession would lift the deadweight that seemed to linger over her off of her shoulders, but instead, she felt ten times heavier. “I know you probably think I’m crazy, and maybe you had no idea about me, just like I had no idea about you, but . . . I have a family. I have kids. . . They don’t . . . They don’t know anyone outside of my husband’s family, and I guess when I found out you existed, I wanted to come here and just see if you were real.” Word vomit. “I needed to see that you were real,” She corrected herself, her feet causing herself to pace the floor again. She made sure to keep her distance from the stool in which Ophelia sat, not wanting to overwhelm her any more than she already had. “I shouldn’t have come tonight, I just. . . I just needed to see that you were okay.”
|