My thoughts swirl around in my brain, clouding my vision and my judgement. I overthink until I'm not even sure of my own existence anymore, it's not such a terrible sensation to tell the truth, I can't focus on one thing, which is good because I'd rather not have a debate with my conscience at this time.

There's only one thing that bothers me, the silence. I've never liked the silence, it's the only time I can finally hear the whirlwind in my head, my thoughts, and believe me, they aren't pretty.

I wonder what Mum would think of me, bullshitting my way through all my problems, but I guess that's all my life has been, bullshitting. When given lemons, I run away. Bullshitting to banks about our lack of income, bullshitting to neighbors that Dad's fine, we don't need any help around the house or pity food, bullshitting to shopkeepers when caught stealing, that I "forgot" the food was up my shirt, bullshitting to Levi, that we're fine, the power only went out because there was a power-line down, it has nothing to do with the speed which I pay my bills with, bullshitting to social workers that visited on the regular like clockwork that we still go to school, bullshitting to Dad that we eat daily... Enough. I'm overthinking. Oh my god, I haven't even seen Dad for at least two weeks, or spoken to Nadine, daughter/friend of the year, I'm just on a roll aren't I? He should be working today, maybe I can find him, there's only ten minutes left of class left anyway.

I spot him across the courtyard, near the science block, he's fiddling with the ride on mower, I jog over and sit beside him, he squints at me for a moment and the exhaustion in his eyes throws me off guard, but then he recognizes me and smiles genuinely, throwing an arm around me, "Hey Margs." He grins, even though it must take a lot of effort in his state. Then he frowns, tilting my chin up, "What's all that crap on your face?" I furrow my brow, confused, then he wipes his thumb across my cheek, and foundation rubs off, I can't help but snort at his expression.
"Dad, that's makeup." I chuckle,
"Oh, right." He pauses, "Who are you made up for?"
"No one." I say defensively, crossing my arms, "Myself." He just looks at me,
"I see." Is all he says. "Your mother never wore makeup, she said it was a waste of time." I laugh, because honestly, I agree with her for the most part, it's a stupid social construct that I told myself I'd avoid if possible, seems I gave up on myself there.
"You look just like her, when you smile." I make the cheesiest grin I possibly can, he rolls his eyes, "No seriously, when you don't wear makeup, and push your hair back like this," He pushes my hair off my face, tucking it behind my ears. "You're the splitting image of her." He goes quiet, and I nonchalantly glance at my reflection in the mower's hubcaps, and he's right, I look just like her, it's uncanny, and to tell the truth, slightly unsettling. I untuck my hair, thankfully looking like myself again. "Same eyes, Levi looks more like me, with his brown ones." I shuffle my feet, incredibly uncomfortable,
"Maybe, but he is more like her, more... free spirited?" Dad shakes his head.
"No, he's like me, oblivious, placid, a bit docile, I daresay even naive, your Mum was none of those things." He continues with his work while I sit in silence, "No, she was everything I'm not, resilient, tough as nails, perhaps a little volatile, but that's because she felt things, the funny thing is, she was not weak, far from it. She was independent, and so are you."
"I'm not..." I begin to protest.
"She would be so proud of you, May." I turn away to wipe my eyes with my sleeve, which are strangely... damp. I wish that were true, oh god, I wish that were true, but no, I'm a disappointment. I hug Dad, so he can't see my face, he rubs my back, bemused. But I don't feel any safer in his arms, like I used to, it seems after Mum... was gone, he just gave up on the whole Dad thing, and we swapped roles, and at 9 years old, I took over where she left off, because no way could Dad do it alone. In a way, he became my kid, instead of the other way around, as it should be. I don't think anything has really changed since then, I still have have to look out for him. When I hug him, it's like I'm not being protected, I have to protect him, because he's fragile, I don't think that'll ever change. Maybe one day he'll get it together enough for me to let down my guard a little, until then, he's vulnerable.

He fiddles with a switch on the dash and the thing suddenly comes to life, "There you go." He laughs, patting it's side, "Want a ride?" He hops onto the lawn mower and pats the seat next to him.
"You mean.. on that?.." I stutter, he chuckles, so I climb up beside him. "How fast can it go?" I ask as he revs the engine.
"Hundred kilometres an hour." He states proudly, I watch the meter climb higher and higher, seventy... eighty.. ninety...
"That's a bit excessive, don't you think?" He makes a sharp turn and I have to grab the sides of my seat, why anyone would design a ride on lawnmower capable of going that fast is beyond me, like did they just wake up one day and think, "You know, lawnmowers aren't dangerous enough, I should make one that is basically a car, but with grass cutting blades underneath."

But the longer we whiz around the grounds the more I begin to subconsciously enjoy myself. Soon I'm laughing, everyone else is in class and here I am, riding a fucking lawnmower with my dad, every now and then a kid comes out to fetch something for a teacher from a different building or whatever, and we pretend to try to mow them down, most of them have a sense of humour about it and laugh and play along, but a couple shoot us glares, hopefully none of them bother to sue us for trauma or something stupid like that. I've noticed that's a trend with rich Americans, maybe it's how they got rich in the first place? I spot Levi briefly, who looks amused (and like he wants to join.)

"You want to drive?" I nod breathlessly, and Dad hops out the drivers seat while we are still moving. "Dad!" I shriek, leaning over and grabbing the wheel while still in the passenger seat, he just laughs, I think he forgets that I'm only sixteen and have no clue how to drive anything at all.
"You've got this!" He's doubled over with laughter, I turn to give him the finger, narrowly avoiding a tree, I wish he wouldn't throw me in the deep end like this, when I don't even know how to fucking paddle. Most fathers would take the whole 'learning to drive' thing slow to avoid casualties, in an actual car. But then again, he hasn't been normal for a while.
"Dad! How do I stop?!" Are there brakes on this monstrosity? A glimmer catches my eye around the edge of a building, is that? It's Ingrid, I'd recognize that flawless hair and cat-like smirk a mile away. She's peaking around the corner of the science block, pursing her lips in disdain (her usual expression towards me.) Suddenly her eyes light up, and the devious smirk grow wider, instantly making me uneasy. She whips around and runs off, where the hell is she going? Light reflects off her trademark Tiffany and co. bracelet as she goes, blinding me. I instinctively bring up my hands to shield my eyes.

"May! The tree!" Dad yells at me, I squint at him, but he's too far away and I can't hear him, by the time I turn around, it's too late.