I’m at the house my parents bought when they married, on the table in front of me is a half-eaten cake that had the words “Happy Birthday Lisa” written on it. On my right side sits my older sister Janine, on the left is my father, and across from us is my mother and my younger sister Lisa.
My father is going on about how his coworkers keep inviting him to do things, but he has to turn them down because he’s worried about missing time with Lisa. Funny, he didn’t worry about missing time with me and Janine. My mother is just nodding. She works to, but it’s always been her job raise us, so work was never a big thing with her the way it was with dad.
“Has work been busy lately?” I ask, mostly because I’m sick of hearing him go on about how important Lisa is to him.
“It’s been about normal. Everyone at my office knows that you can’t quit work just because you’re a little upset about something. How about you, have things been overly busy at your workplace lately?”
“No,” I lie. I’m worried that if I say too much, I’ll start going on a rant about how much of an idiot my boss is, how frustrated I am to be in a department that used to have twelve people in it but now only has four, not counting the person who’s supposed to be running it, and stating just how much I wish I could just quit and go back to my old bedroom and pretend life hadn’t changed since I turned eighteen. But I’m a grown up, and grown ups know better than to complain about how awful their life is, no matter how much they really wish they could.
“Lucky you. Schools been awful. It’s bad enough that we had to go back to virtual learning, now all the teachers keep pushing so much homework on us. I can’t go to bed before midnight, it’s so bad, and I’ve still got all these clubs I have to manage, ugh, it’s unbearable.”
I try not to look at Lisa. I don’t want to be the one to tell her that as bad as she thinks high school is, it’s only going to get worse. And really, it’s not like she’s doing anything that me and Janine didn’t manage to do, so what’s the big deal.
“Are you writing everything down in your planner?” Mother asks.
“Of course, I am Mom but there’s so much I can’t possibly do it all. I’m getting at least an hours’ worth of homework from each class, and with clubs and community service, I’m just swamped. I feel like I should just give up being able to pass anything right now.” Lisa whines.
“Maybe you should spend less time on that blog of yours.” Janine says, crisply.
The table goes silent. Every family has that one thing they don’t talk about, in my family it’s the blog that Lisa supposedly runs in her spare time, but in reality, has devoted her entire life to. That and Facebook and Instagram. She’s convinced that someday somebody is going to see her and be moved to make her famous, then she can stop pretending she’s trying to pass her classes or putting any effort into her extracurricular work, and she can cost on by without doing any real work. My parents were quick to point out that my plans for the future were stupid, but don’t seem to be doing anything to remind Lisa of the fact that in the real world, her looks won’t get her anywhere, and she doesn’t have enough of a personality to become a star.
I’ve never read her blog. I don’t plan on reading it either. She’s annoying enough to listen to in real life.
Mom stands up and starts putting dishes away. Dad goes to the living room to watch TV, Lisa goes of to her room, and Janine says she has to get going. That leaves me and mom to work on dishes and put the food away.
“I do wish Janine hadn’t said that.” Mom says.
“Said what?” I ask
“Said that Lisa should cut back on writing her blog. This pandemic’s been awful for her, and we just can’t be there the way she needs us to be. I’ve been grateful she has an outlet for her pain, and I’m worried she’ll give that up if she listens to her.”
“How is writing random garbage and throwing it up on the internet supposed to help anyone? She’s got to focus on school, otherwise she’ll just end up living in a slum hole with no friends and nobody to talk to except you and dad. This is her future you’re talking about, and from where I’m standing, you’re just letting her throw it away.” I say.
“We’re not letting that happen. We’ve been pushing her; you just haven’t been around to see it.” She puts the final dishes in the dishwasher and says, “Can you tell Lisa to get the garbage before she goes to bed?”
“I can get it.” I say.
“I know that, but I want to teach Lisa responsibility.” Mom says, smiling.
I walk down the hallway to Lisa’s room. On the walls are pictures of me and Janine when we little, when all we had to do to impress people was win a trophy in soccer or math club. Lisa didn’t get a lot of pictures; she was born nine and a half years after I was, and mom and dad weren’t planning for another child. Looking back, I don’t remember her doing much worth memorializing, probably why there isn’t a lot on the walls aside from her school pictures.
I knock on her bedroom door. “Go away,” She yells, “I’m trying to study.”
On her birthday? Yeah, right. I open the door to see her on her laptop, opened up to Tumblr. “Mom, says you have to take out the trash.” I say.
“Right now? I’m busy!” Lisa yells.
“With this?” I say, gesturing to her laptop. “You know if you don’t focus on school, you won’t be able to get into college, right?”
“Who cares about college? Everyone knows it’s a waste of money anyways.”
“The only way to get a job that pays well is through college, Lisa. Surely you know that by now.”
“Yes, I do, that’s why you and Janine have beautiful five story mansions and Mom and Dad are planning to travel the world when they retire.”
I can’t help but wince. “Well, at least I make more than I would have made if I hadn’t gone to college.” I reply.
“Really? From what I hear, you can get a certificate in IT support online and make more money than you’re making now.”
“So why aren’t you doing that instead of focusing all of your mental energy on social media?” I yell. “You know Mom and Dad can’t support you forever, and deep down I’m pretty sure you know that all this writing you’re doing isn’t going to lead you anywhere. You aren’t a good writer, you can’t even manage to get anything above a C in language arts, and I know you don’t have the personality you need to be an influencer.”
Lisa turns away from me. “Go Away.” She growls.
“Aren’t you going to get the trash?” I ask.
“I said go away!” She says, throwing a pillow at me.
I back away and close the door. I walk back to the kitchen and tell mom, “She’ll be out to get it soon.”
“I hope she doesn’t forget it this time.” Mom grumbles.
I don’t have high hopes there. Lisa never remembers to do chores if she can at all help it. “She’ll remember to do it eventually.” I reassure her, though I don’t think it’s true. “I have to go, it’s getting late.”
“Okay, have a safe drive sweetie.” Mom says, giving me a hug.
The drive home is long, especially since it’s dark. I love my family, but sometimes I wish Mom and Dad didn’t insist on inviting me over to dinner so often. It was alright when I lived less than an hour from them and the pandemic hadn’t hit yet, but now it almost feels like a chore. Not helping the issue is that they keep harping on me every time I turn an invitation down, and I keep having to do that because work’s been so crazy lately. I didn’t even want to come today, but Dad said this is Lisa’s last birthday before she turns eighteen, and I don’t want to miss out on my baby sister growing up. And I didn’t have the heart to tell him that if I could have missed all of it, I would have.
The apartment’s dead quiet, or at least it would be if I could afford one with quiet neighbors, but I can’t even afford an apartment with decent heating. I open up The Future’s soundtrack file, thinking that if I work on it today won’t be a complete waste, but then I remember that I have a lot of stuff I need to do and because I had to leave work early to be at my sister’s birthday party, I didn’t finish it, so I start on that instead.
Why did I have to go again? I told Mom and Dad I didn’t have the money to get Lisa a birthday present, and they still said I had to come. I love them, but I can’t keep going to their house if I want to keep my job, and if I lose my job, they’ll be angry at me, but if I don’t go to their house, they’ll be upset with me for not fulfilling familial obligations. I just can’t win.
I can’t help but think about what Lisa said, that people with just a certificate in IT support make more money than I do. I remember looking into it when I got my first stimulus check in May 2020 but decided that I didn’t want to go back to school, the sixteen years of it I’d had already was more than enough. Looking back, part of me wishes I’d gotten a certificate in something, so I had something else to do other than go to work in a job I don’t like. Frankly though, I don’t think another job would be any better. From what I hear, any job in any industry is designed to take as much as it can from you and give you as little as possible in return. Workers have gotten better at fighting back, so the employers retaliated by sending our jobs as far away as possible. Now we live in a world where nobody has money, so nobody can buy anything, and as a result there isn’t anything around to buy. And everyone expects it to get worse before it gets better.
Well, at least I’m still fairly certain it will get better, at least eventually. Many people don’t think it will anymore. I don’t even think they’re entirely wrong. I remember growing up and being told that things would only get better, that we would be smarter, kinder, and wealthier than our parents ever were. Instead, we ended up being fooled by misinformation, yelling at strangers online for no reason, and bogged down by student loans. Why would anyone think that things would get better? The only reason I think things will get better eventually is that, deep down, I’m still a little kid who dressed up and pretended she was destined to marry a prince one day.
But I’m twenty-six years old now and haven’t dated anyone since I left college, let alone formed a serious long-term relationship. My apartment’s about as far from a castle as you could get, and if it wasn’t for stimulus money, there would be nothing in my bank account. I keep making music, not because I think I have a future, but I want to pretend I do. But how is me posting songs on YouTube any different from Lisa writing stuff on Tumblr? Nobody follows either of us, and work’s so busy I can’t write any music, let alone post it.
I remember Dad saying that the reason communism failed, and capitalism succeeded was that under communism, you couldn’t dream of a future that was better than your present. You had everything you were ever going to have, there was no reason to aim higher. If that’s true, then somewhere along the way capitalism lost sight of what it was supposed to do, because somewhere along the way me and everyone I know was hit in the face with the reality that not only would we never achieve our dreams, but we’d also be lucky to eke out a decent living. Now people dream of being Youtubers or influencers, and it’s not for fame, it’s because they want something to hope for again, something their parents and bosses can’t take from them.
Lisa hasn’t reached that point yet, and Janine makes more money than I do. I’m the only person in my family who’s lost her right to dream. I wish my parents, and the world, would understand that.
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