Letting Him In

Chapter-17

Hey guys... a quick trigger warning: this chapter contains themes of domestic violence/abuse. So for anyone who might be triggered by such topics, please be aware. Otherwise, let's dive into the chapter!

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"Time turns flames to embers
You'll have new Septembers
Every one of us has messed up too
Minds change like the weather
I hope you remember
Today is never too late to be brand new"

-Taylor Swift, Innocent

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Kaeden

It was two in the morning, and Kaeden was still wide awake, staring the ceiling of Elijah's room, replaying their conversation from a couple hours ago over and over in his mind. That one line- I think my cancer's back- made him want to punch something or curl up into a ball and cry; he wasn't entirely sure which.

As he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blank out his thoughts, his mind went further back in time, replaying old memories. One, in particular, refused to just fly past the endless jumble in his brain, instead coming back to him in full force.

And suddenly, he was eight again, sitting on his bedroom floor. He had been bent over a project when a knock sounded on the door, which swung open to reveal his father standing in the doorway.

Kaeden had immediately stiffened, unsure if his father was in a good or sour mood. He was hoping it would be the former; the bruises from his punishment from three days ago were an ugly yellow-and-purple, indicating that they were still healing.

Kaeden tried snapping out of the memory before he slipped in too deep, but it was too late. It was as if it wasn't just a memory anymore, but something he was reliving, both emotionally and physically. So he squeezed his eyes tighter, wishing that none of it had happened; but it had, and it was a past he couldn't go on ignoring forever.

"Sur quoi travailles-tu?" his father asked, looking at the half-complete model his younger self was working on.

Kaeden remembered how his body had relaxed upon hearing that; French was always reserved for his father's pleasant moods.

"Working on a model for my science project. I'm trying to fix this painted tube over here," he pointed at a spot on the model, "but it won't stay. I'll keep tyring, though." His voice grew more enthusiastic as he spoke.

His father chuckled, a deep sound that emitted from his throat, as he sat down next to him. He picked up the tube Kaeden had spent half the day working on, and remarked, "Well, that might have something to do with the fact that the paint hasn't quite dried yet. Try sticking it once it's completely dry."

Kaeden nodded, picking up a mess of wires and ribbons lying beside him. "Can you help me with this, please? It's all tangled up and I get it right," he said, looking at is father with hopeful eyes.

The older man nodded, and they spent the next hour working on his project. When they were almost done, his father turned to him and asked, "You had a test in school, didn't you? How was it?"

Kaeden could feel his heart sink. Looking down at his lap, he said, "Um... yes. A math test. It... wasn't that good?" It sounded more like a question.

The stern look on his father's face still sent shivers down his spine.

"How much did you score, Kaeden? And look up while speaking," he said, authority lacing every word.

Looking up meekly, Kaeden mumbled, "Thirty-nine out of fifty. There were a few topics that were giving me some trouble, and I messed 'em up in the test. I'll try harder, though. Promise."