Unforgotten

5

3rd person's pov:

THE YOUNGEST MILLER BROTHER hated that feeling – hangover.

The boy loved to drink, the boy loved how the liquid made all the problems vanish for a moment, he loved the feeling. It made the reality of life go away and a beautiful picture of everything fun without any worries replaced that. Like a medicine that addictive substance made the pain leave.

Like medicine, its effects did not last very long.

The feeling after; it was even worse. The reality of life with all the problems came back, but that was not it. Your head was a disaster, a mess. The pain and the nausea were something so strong that you wanted to take more, you wanted more of the liquid to make the pain vanish again. The exhaustion was making you want to just fall asleep, but you couldn't do that. Usually you regretted it, the alcohol – and the things you had done, said. When there is alcohol in your blood, the filter of your words vanishes and suddenly you can say anything.

"I will not apologize for my actions, if that's what you think." The oldest Miller brother spoke, his eyes tightly on his little brother. "You deserved that slap, and you most definitely can handle more than just a pathetic touch."

Edwin winced when the words run through his ears.

If the young boy could only count the times he had been sitting on that same chair under those judging eyes.

It was eight in the morning; and not only was he tired, but he was also not in the kind of state to listen to his brother's words. Every sound was like a punch to his already aching head.

"What the fuck were you thinking again?" The fist of the oldest brother landed on the table separating the two siblings and his voice was dark. "Get your shit together or you'll leave my house."

Happily – the boy was about to say, but let the word disappear before it escaped his lips. Would he have been lying if he had said that though?

Part of him was already one foot out of the house, in another place, but something was just holding him back. He hated his siblings a lot, especially that person in front of him, but a piece of his heart still always loved them. A piece of his heart loved that family, and he couldn't leave because of that stupid piece, feeling, inside him.

The boy let a chuckle escape his mouth, but he stayed silent.

"I know you are going through a lot. I know that you hate this family; a part of you always hates and always will hate this family." Weston spoke lowly. "I'll give you the chance to release your anger to me, to our brothers, but if I ever hear your disrespectful words about your sister again – I swear to god..."

"I hate her the most."

"You hate her because mom took her away?" Weston questioned. "You hate her because she made you vulnerable, because she made you feel pain for the first time?"

"I hate her because she was the one to mess this family up." Edwin answered with another chuckle escaping his lips.

"No, brother, it's not that." The oldest Miller brother sat down in his leather chair. "You hate her because she makes you feel something else than anger. You don't want to break those walls, you don't want to feel anything but hate, anger – but it's impossible when you see the innocent eyes of the child you used to love from the bottom of your he..."