Misfits (#2)

40.*

My dad was much more of a spender, than my mom. He liked investing in things that made him happy.

But this, he called it his favourite place.

When they'd built the academy, the cherry blossom grove behind it was owned by the local council. It was legally protected but my dad adored it. So it took him time but he earned ownership of it, paying a hefty sum and taking the cherry blossom grove for himself.

It's behind the academy, a large expanse of land protected by a brick wall around the whole area. The only entrance is through the code-protected gate and as I punch in the numbers, memories assault me.

Dad said he bought it so his kids had a place to hide away. As we grow older and have kids of our own, Blossom Grove would become their reprieve from reality too.

I was always here more than my brothers but once he died, all of us stopped coming here.

So when the gate opens and the sweet smell of cherry flood my senses, I could cry. I look around. This place, it's heaven on Earth. It's a beauty unparalleled that could probably be a great, popular attraction for the public but instead, was the Amory children's personal playground.

Cherry blossom trees cover the land, the epitome of a pink and purplish haze. Sunlight streams through them, dappling against the grass.

I shut my eyes, the sunlight bathing my skin and step under one of the weeping cherry blossoms, the vines hanging low.

"Fuck." I hear Everest mutter so I open my eyes and look to him, his head tilted back to absorb it all.

"This was ours. Mine and my siblings." I tell him, "And I know it's not usual, or practical. But there'll always be an innocence to this place."

"Your family owns it?" He asks me, tucked into his side.

I nod, "We're the only ones that have access, that know the code. My dad said that we'd pass it onto our children, too."

"And you're showing me it?" He says it quietly, softly. I nod, curling my arm around him.

Silence seeps around us for a moment before I break it. I brace myself, wanting to say this. It's been a week of me wanting to say so many things to Everest but keeping it to myself, instead silently comforting him.

But he's hurting. I don't know how to help, and I don't want to enable it.

"Sometimes I look at you and wonder how you could ever think you're weak." I admit quietly, "You haven't— been you. To everyone else maybe but I won't let you go, quietly. Hiding it from everybody else. You can't go quietly anymore."

He's quiet for a while and his expression sobers. His shoulders turn rigid. The signs he wants to close off.

"Luca fought." He doesn't look at me, tense, "Every day, he fought. So did Hudson. I fucked around and drank so strong isn't an attribute of mine, Violet."

"You're wrong."

He shakes his head, looking away from me and I can see that pain starting to seep into his body. The one he hides until it's nighttime, "No. You're just seeing what you want to see."

It's this. We've been tiptoeing around his pain for a week now. It's like a cord, tightening around him and snaking its way around me too. We need out. He needs out.

"Why?" I step closer to him but he doesn't let me. And his eyes look so sad, and so alone that it's tearing me apart, "When did you start thinking so low of yourself? Why do you do that?"

He turns away from me now but I know it's because he's overwhelmed. His back's to me, shoulders rising unsteadily, "Vy-"

"Tell me." I say louder.