Chapter 1: When is a door not a door... ?

My parents have this thing about giving us “lessons.” Oh sure, if we do something wrong they do the usual things like grounding us or making us do meaningless chores or making us sit on the time-out chair, stuff like that. Sometimes, though, they go all out and do things that are kind of ... extreme. I’ll give you an example.

This happened about a month ago – about a month before my thirteenth birthday. My sister, Tara, is fourteen, Dan is twenty and little Angie is three. Tara and I mostly get along by leaving each other alone. Sometimes we’re nice to each other and sometimes we fight like it’s going out of fashion, but mostly we leave each other alone. I’m Rebecca by the way, but most people call me Bec.

I should mention that my family and I are from England. We moved out here a few years ago. I’m learning to speak in American and to write in American. Sometimes I get confused because the same words are spelled differently but I think I’m getting better at that. I guess you don’t really need to know that to understand this story but it’s something that influences a lot of things in my life.

This story starts on a Saturday morning. Mum and Dad were sleeping in, Tara had gone out early to swimming practice, so I felt safe to wander into her room to grab one of her music CDs. I didn’t know, but swimming was cancelled because of a problem with the chemicals in the pool. I had a couple of CDs in my hand and was trying to pick which one I wanted to listen to when Tara charged into the room ... busted!! She took one look at me and started yelling at me about always coming into her room and taking her stuff. Then I noticed one of my tops half hanging out of her laundry basket. I figured attack is the best sort of defense, so I yelled back at her about how she was always stealing my clothes and how that was my favorite and how I wanted to wear it the next day but now I couldn’t and so on (not completely true, but hey, it was a fight and all’s fair... ). Well she grabbed me and pushed me out of her room, still yelling, and slammed the door, and screamed, “and stay out of my room.”

So I stood in the corridor screaming at her through the closed door for a bit, then I stomped down to my room and slammed my door shut behind me. Seconds later I heard Tara’s door slam again, then mine burst open and she threw the top at me and yelled, “Have your skanky top back, I hope I stretched it.” Then she stormed over to my desk and grabbed a pile of CDs off it, some were mine and a couple were hers but she said they were hers and she was taking them back and ... well you get the picture ... it was a pretty normal fight for us with lots of screaming and slamming doors.

This went on for, like, maybe half an hour or so and it ended with both of us charging together into The Parents’ room, both talking over the top of each other, trying to persuade Mum and Dad to do something to make the other sister stay out of our room and leave our stuff alone. Mum and Dad were still in bed and cuddling under the covers, no way could they have slept through all the noise and they pretty much knew what the fight was about because half the neighborhood probably heard about it. But they ignored us and kept whispering to each other, so we kept yelling about how we wanted locks put on our doors so we could keep stuff private.

Around about then, they rolled away from each other and sat up in bed to look at us. The looks on their faces kind of shut us up real quick as we started to realize that we made a mistake asking them to fix our fight. They were going to fix it their way and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Finally it was quiet and Dad said in a real calm voice, “Do you realize that you both charged into our room without knocking? You’re each complaining about your sister doing the same thing that you just did to us.”

We got sent to our rooms and told to stay there until further notice. I sat on my bed, wondering what was going to happen, when I heard Dad calling for Dan. Soon I could hear weird noises from the rest of the house. This went on for a while. Then my door opened. Dad walked in with Dan behind him. Dad totally ignored me, but Dan kind of looked at me strangely. Dan held the door and Dad went to the hinges with a nail and a hammer and knocked the little pin thing out, then the two of them picked up my door and carried it out of the room.

I sat there staring out into the corridor. I was stunned! I didn’t even know you could do that to doors. I always figured they were kind of permanent, but Dad had just taken away my door.

A bit later, Mum walked past. She looked in through my empty doorway and told me to follow her. We collected Tara and went into the kitchen for a family meeting. I followed along in a daze. There wasn’t a single door left in the house, only the outside doors were still there. Even the bathroom door was missing. Mum had stuck paper labels on the walls outside our rooms with numbers on them. The Parents’ room was “1,” Dan’s room was “2,” Tara’s room was “3,” mine was “4” and Angie’s was “5.”

We sat down around the kitchen table. Dad and Dan were already there. Mum held Angie on her knee. They explained to us that privacy was a privilege not a right and that the doors wouldn’t go back until we had learnt that. Tara complained about not being able to get changed and how, with the bathroom door missing, people would see each other going to the toilet and how that was gross. They shrugged and said we would manage somehow. Then they went on to say that technically they owned everything in the house including the stuff that happened to be kept in rooms 3 and 4 ... that’s what they said ... rooms 3 and 4. Our rooms weren’t our rooms any more ... and our stuff wasn’t ours any more. I tried to object saying that we’d paid for some of the things in there, clothes and CDs and things. They said we’d bought those things using their money, given to us as an allowance.

Mum then said, “Speaking of which...” and stood up and left the room. She came back a minute later with two purses, Tara’s and mine. She tipped all the money in them onto the table ... which wasn’t much ... we aren’t that old, and pushed it across to Dad, saying, “We want our money back!” Tara and I were silent. What could we say?

Dad looked at the little pile of bills and loose change, picked up a couple of bills and handed them to Tara. “The two of you have ruined our morning,” he said. “You can both walk down to the shops. Get your mum and me some nice little present then come straight back. I want any change back too. This money isn’t for you!”

So off we went. Once we were outside, I guess we both had a little rant at each other about how they couldn’t do this to us, and how it was probably child abuse and such like, but eventually we kind of wound down and walked in silence. I guess we were both thinking back over the argument that started all this. I know I was.

We bought some chocolates for Mum and Dad and headed back. On the way back, we started fighting about whose fault it was that got us into this mess. Eventually, Tara turned around and stomped off to sit on a bench and I went on home on my own with the chocolates and the change.

As I came into the house, I could hear that Dad had one of Tara’s CDs playing really loudly on the big stereo system in the living room. I wouldn’t have minded so much except that it was a really old one that neither of us wanted to listen to any more. I walked into the living room and Dad was dancing around to the music and being silly. He was clearly in a good mood and it made me mad because I sure wasn’t. Then I noticed that there was a huge line up of CDs on the shelf. Dad had taken all the CDs out of Tara’s room and my room and stacked them all out here. I gritted my teeth and tried to smile. I handed Dad the change and the chocolates.

He took the chocolates with a big smile and said “Why thank you, Bec. What a lovely present.” He then grabbed my hands and tried to make me dance to the crappy music. I broke away as quickly as I could and headed off to my room.

I walked through the doorway and stopped cold. My baby sister Angie was sitting on my bed in the middle of a huge pile of my clothes. She had my favorite skirt wrapped around her like a blanket and was playing with my clothes. She was grabbing handfuls of shorts and t-shirts and panties and throwing them into the air. I was about to scream at her when I noticed Mum sitting at my computer watching me with a grin on her face. On the computer, I could see she had opened up a log of my last chatting session with my friends. I guess there wasn’t anything really embarrassing there, my friends and I were all twelve after all, but they were things I thought of as private, not really for a mother to read.

She just stared at me straight in the eyes and said, “These are not your things, Bec!” I’d gone beyond furious and was now in complete shock. Mum stood up, saying, “Watch Angie playing please? Don’t let her stick anything in her nose.”

She then kissed me on the cheek and left the room. That’s when I noticed, Mum had let Angie play with one of my lipsticks. It was smeared on her face and hands ... and all over my clothes, including my favorite skirt. I glared at Angie and said really quietly, “Mum is evil!!!!!” Angie hid her face behind my good jeans. Then I slid down to sit on the floor and started to cry.

That night, we had dinner together. Mum and Dad chatted on as if nothing was unusual. Dan was pretty quiet. He joined in occasionally but he didn’t say much. Tara and I were silent – kind of keeping our heads down. After dinner, Dan went out and we all watched television.

When it was bedtime, Mum looked at me with a stern face and said, “It’s time for bed. Go to Room 3. When you’re there, find some pyjamas to wear and go to bed. You will sleep in Room 3 tonight.”

Both of us started complaining at once. That was Tara’s room! Dad cut through our complaints by telling Tara that she would be sleeping in Room 4 tonight, my room. We gave up and left the room.

We glared at each other a bit, then went into the bedrooms. No doors, so we could walk right in. I went to the drawers and found one of Tara’s t-shirt nighties to wear. I realised I needed to change panties too. I hesitated. I’d worn Tara’s clothes before but never her underwear. I figured I had no choice so I picked a plain pair from her underwear drawer, staring in jealousy for a moment at the little pile of bras – I wasn’t up to wearing a bra. I then wondered how I was going to get changed without being able to close the door. I put the nightie on over the top and wriggled around to take my other things off and change my panties. Finally I got into bed and lay there. This was really weird, lying in Tara’s bed. There was light spilling into the room from the corridor, so I lay there looking around at the posters and things on her wall. Then I thought about Tara lying in my bed. I wondered what she was thinking about my room.

Mum came to say goodnight. I started crying and said I hated this. She hugged me and kissed me and told me she loved me. She tried to tell me everything would be okay. I didn’t believe her. Then she left to see Tara and Dad came from talking to Tara to wish me goodnight. I tried to hug Dad and told him I was sorry, over and over again, and could we please put things back the way they were. But he gently pushed me away and said I needed to learn something and that it was important and this was a way of learning it. Eventually I calmed down a bit.

Then Daddy looked me in the eye and said, “Bec, I love you. Trust me. I’m not doing this to hurt you. Nothing that’s happened today has hurt you. You’re upset because it’s strange and I understand that. I want you to figure out what’s important about this. I don’t think you’ve done that yet. Don’t worry about that, you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out. Try to get some sleep. Let tomorrow take care of itself. Good night.”

Then he kissed me and left the room. They turned out the light in the corridor, but there was still some light from other rooms and I could hear the TV. I lay there for a long time. Eventually I went to sleep.

I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room. For a moment I panicked. Then the events of the day before came rushing back. I was in Tara’s room. I’d slept in Tara’s bed. I could hear Angie playing with some blocks in her room. I got out of bed in my nightie, I mean Tara’s nightie, put a robe on and then wandered down to check on Angie. She was having fun with some blocks. She smiled happily at me then went back to building a tower with an intent expression on her face. She was fine.

I needed to go to the toilet, so I went there next. Of course there was no door on the bathroom so I walked right in and I got the shock of my life. I came face to face with Mum sitting on the toilet. “Eeeeew!” I exclaimed. I guess I couldn’t see anything because of Mum’s clothes, but no twelve year old girl wants to see anyone sitting on the toilet, especially her mother.

Mum just looked at me and said good morning. “I didn’t expect to see you up quite so early, yesterday was a big day.”

I stood there like a lump of clay, thinking maybe I should run away – from the bathroom I mean. Though running away from home was also an option. Mum kept talking as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“You should take a shower. Go back to the room you slept in and find some clothes to wear for today.” I opened my mouth to object, but Mum cut me off. “Don’t argue. You girls often wear each other’s clothes, with or without permission. This really isn’t any different.” Just then Mum farted into the toilet and I burst out giggling. She laughed too then said “shoo,” so I ran away, trying to stifle my giggles.

I went back to Tara’s room and picked through her wardrobe. Of course I knew all her clothes and had worn quite a few things, Mum was right about that. Because we were pretty much the same size, Tara’s clothes would all fit me. Some of them would be a bit loose around the chest though. I wondered briefly about wearing one of her bras and stuffing it with tissues so that I would fill out the clothes better but decided not to. It was Sunday and I had no plans so I grabbed some sweat pants and a top that I liked and headed back to the bathroom. Mum was gone by then, thank goodness, so I went into the bathroom. I put the fresh clothes on the bench and reached up to take off the nightie. Then I froze. There was no door. I would have to completely undress to take a shower. If anyone saw me nude I would just die of embarrassment, especially Dan or Dad. What could I do? I stood there shaking.

Tara walked into the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I squeaked and then shrieked “Get out.”

Tara stood there half awake and then gave a kind of half smile. “It’s okay, I’m not looking. Mum sent me here. She wants me to stand in the door while you shower and make sure Dan and Dad don’t come in. Then you have to do the same thing while I shower.”

She groaned and propped herself in the doorway. She was wearing a pair of my flannel pyjamas and had obviously just been dragged out of bed. She had her back to me.

I said “thanks” in a quiet voice and turned around. I quickly skimmed out of my night clothes and jumped into the shower. I finished quickly, then dried and dressed in a hurry. All the time, Tara stayed propped in the doorway with her back to me ... I think she might have gone back to sleep standing up!! When I was finished, I nudged Tara and told her it was her turn. Then I stood in the doorway, crossed my arms and glared down the empty corridor, daring Dan or Dad to show up so I could tell them to get lost. I could hear Tara getting undressed and showering behind me. I guess it felt kind of cool, protecting my sister from embarrassment like that. After a short time, Tara was finished. She hadn’t brought clothes with her so she put on a bathrobe and we headed back to our rooms together.

I looked at Tara and said, “I think you’re supposed to wear something of mine today.”

She kind of looked at me with this blank look. She really still wasn’t awake yet. Then she nodded and went on to my room. After a second of hesitation, I followed her and stood in the doorway. I didn’t say anything as she fished out a pair of my jeans and a t-shirt. One of her bras was on the bed – I figured that was a present from Mum. She couldn’t exactly wear one of mine. I didn’t have any.

I said, “I’ll stand in the door while you get changed,” and turned my back. She said thanks and I listened to the sounds of her getting dressed behind me. As I stood there, Dad came down the corridor. I told Dad to wait there for a sec. He said okay and leaned against the wall. I guess he figured out why I was standing in the doorway like that. He asked how I’d slept and I said, “okay I guess.”

It wasn’t long until Tara came up behind me and said, “all done.” The three of us then headed down the corridor to get breakfast.

Dan hadn’t appeared yet, Dad said he got in late last night and was probably sleeping in. We chatted about our plans for the day. It felt kind of normal, which was weird. I had some homework to do which was on the computer in “my” room. I wondered what to do about it, but finally I just asked if I could use my computer to finish off my homework. Mum and Dad looked at each other then Dad said I could use the computer in Room 4 to do my homework so that his investment in an education wouldn’t be wasted!! I guess I kind of sighed, because Dad grinned at me.

After breakfast, I went to do my homework but something made me walk the other way and I went to Dan’s room, at the other end of the house. There was no door of course, so I stood in the doorway and could see Dan lying there in bed, fast asleep. I walked quietly in and sat down on his computer chair. It swivelled so I could turn it around and look at Dan. I’d never really seen Dan sleeping before. I mean I had, but I’d never really looked at him while he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful just laying there, his face all relaxed and gentle. There was the faintest of snoring sounds, maybe more heavy relaxed breathing than snoring. I sat and looked at him for a while. The blankets had slipped down and exposed his shoulders and the top of his chest. He wasn’t wearing any shirt. I took a second to admire the muscles in his shoulders. I guess I’m at the age where girls start to notice that men can be nice to look at.

Dan’s breathing changed a bit. He’s eyes blinked and slowly opened. I could see his eyes slowly focus as he realized I was sitting near him, watching him. He smiled gently. “Good morning, kiddo,” he said.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” I responded. I reached forward and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. Then I leaned down and gave him a kiss on his cheek. When I did that, I suddenly figured out why I’d come into his room. With all the weirdness going on, Dan was still Dan. He was my big brother. With my love/hate relationship with Tara, and my parents being, well, The Parents, I’d always been able to talk to Dan about my problems and he always seemed to love hearing about things I’d done. He was like my rock, and I’d been kind of swept away in the raging torrent of The Parents’ weirdness, so I’d come here to cling on to my rock so I wouldn’t drown.