She, however, lived. To regret it, of course. She saw it coming all right, saw the car coming right at them which for some reason Ted, the driver, never saw. But they never once blamed his vision, only her breathing. After that, her family hated her. Ted had been drinking, she wanted to tell them. Ted drove like a maniac even when he was sober. Ted wanted to crash. Ted wanted to kill both of us she wanted to tell them, but it just couldn’t come out. First, she needed a receptive audience. People who really wanted to know the truth. Next she needed the space. A good physical distance between her and them, just enough to have enough oxygen to say everything she had to say because most of the time they took away what little breath she had and sucked up what little oxygen there was in the room. And most of all, she needed silence. As much silence as she needed she had to have. And this was something they just wouldn’t give her. She was just a girl and she knew that was a disadvantage. This too was connected to her weakness.
Ted, who was a boy, never had trouble breathing. If anything, he breathed too well. He got all the breath, they’d say, and she got all the looks. But looks weren’t enough. In fact, they were very bad. She seemed to them like a defective doll with a run down battery that wasn’t worth replacing. Girls liked silence. That’s what they thought. “I hate silence,” her father once told her. “It shows weakness and deceit. It’s left-wing and atheistic. It makes my skin crawl.” And while she was trying to collect enough air in her lungs to disagree, Ted said, “You know what, dad?” “What son?” his father asked him in a kind of deathly anti-silent roar. “Whenever I’m with a girl, and she doesn’t say anything, I feel like I’m being castrated.” The father laughed and she thought she had finally caught enough air to scream but all she could manage was a long, painful hiss like a punctured tire. The mother, probably at the end of her rope by now, turned to her and said, “If you don’t start breathing right, no supper!” So she was forced back into her room where she practiced breathing in front of a mirror.