crazy

She came down the stairs to her father lecturing her brother again on how lazy he was and how he'd never make it anywhere. Couldn't he find anything else to worry about? He never spent that kind of time on her. She was fine. Her grades were high. They (mostly) approved of her friends. Nothing to focus on. If only they would notice her. The waiting was hard. Hoping for the question to be real. "How are you?" She wanted that and feared that. It was almost a guarantee that she would fall apart then; burst like the delicate bubble she really was. It was also almost a guarantee that it would never happen, and she couldn't cry unprovoked. Not now.

"Dad, can't you find something else to do before dinner?"

They would wonder why she would leave. They would wonder why she never seemed to want to come home. She would go through an entire lifetime in the next ten years that all of this school wouldn't prepare her for. Hopefully, she would survive it. Something was there inside, knocking, begging for her attention. Not the time to look directly at it. Just a few more months of listening to it call her. It was just not something she could let out until she was gone. Too risky to let loose here.

I guess this is the sister response to this. The title is about the confusion, a personal feeling. Also, it rhymes.