Three in the Morning (very slow updates)

three

“Get up, girls! I’ve made pancakes!” I hear my father shout from the other side of the door. I open my eyes groggily. I feel like a zombie after not being able to sleep for the whole night, and my eyes are so sore I can hardly see anything at first. My Chemical Romance is still playing loudly in my headphones.

I groan, trying to heave myself up. Georgia shuffles next to me, eyes blinking open. I look at her, and her innocent, happy blue eyes look back up at me. 

The memories of last night come flooding back again. Georgia seems to remember as well, because as the angry portrait of my dad appears in my mind, I’m almost tearing up again. But I hug Georgia instead, and I remember just how much I love her. I remember just how much I have to stay strong for her, and I remember the music still playing in my ears, and I remember that today, I’m going to get up and face my life for another day. 

“Are you okay?” I whisper, still not daring to speak.

Georgia smiles sadly. “Don’t worry, Casey. I’m fine. It was my fault.”

I almost glare at her. “Don’t you dare say it’s your fault, Georgie.”

“But it is.” 

I stroke her hair. “What was it even about?”

“I got a bad mark in Maths.” 

“What was that bad mark?”

“80%.”

I want to tear my dad apart when I hear this. Eighty percent? That is a great score, and I can’t bear to see my sister getting upset over something like that.

“Hey, Georgia. You are my clever, funny, amazing sister and you’d better not be beating yourself over that because I love you and we’re going to go downstairs for pancakes and you’re going to laugh and smile and enjoy every day of your life and you’ll grow up loving every day of your life and if you’re ever feeling sad then I’m your sister and I’ll be here for you no matter what and I love you.”

Georgia grins and gives me another hug.

My heart aches. All I want is for Georgia to be happy, happier than I’ve ever been. I don’t even follow my own advice, but it doesn’t matter. I can cope.

***

“Do you want Nutella on that?” my dad asks me, placing my pancake on the plate in front of me. 

“Sure,” I reply in a monotone. I’d rather not be speaking to him at all, but unless I want a smack, I’m obliged to.

“You, Georgie?” he then says, grinning at my sister who’s staring glassily down at her browned pancake. She nods, still not daring to talk to our father. She may tell me she’s fine, but I know she’ll be terrified for days. Even though he may not make another move for a while yet, one wrong feat and our family is back to being a hellhole.

My dad gets the pot of Nutella, dips a knife in and then spreads some swirls of chocolate onto our pancakes. I reluctantly thank him and roll up my pancake myself, taking a first bite. It’s delicious. 

“I’ve got a lot to do at work today so I probably won’t be back until late,” my father says to my mother.

“Sure. Casey, can you pick Georgia up from school?” My mother gives me an expectant gaze, blue eyes piercing into me. Even if I were to make an excuse, it wouldn’t go down well if I refused. 

I swallow my mouthful. “Yes.”

“You girls got your bags packed?” My dad finishes his pancake and brushes his hands together. He then stands up to put his plate in the sink.