Breaking Barriers: Jonah Finds His Voice

Chapter 15 -"God, if You're really up there"

Classes were over for that Monday and I headed home. I braced myself for what was waiting for me as I stepped through the door. I always feel like I have to carry the weight of the tragedy that befell our family after my mother's passing. I knew that my father, William, was not in the right state of mind. He had been struggling with depression and alcoholism ever since my mother, Claire, died. The loss of the love of his life had caused him to spiral into a state of delusion, where he would often talk to her as if she were still there.

Today was no different. As I closed the door behind me, I heard his voice, slurred and mumbled, as he spoke to someone who wasn't there. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what was to come next.

"Claire, is that you?" he called out, his voice filled with hope. "I knew you'd come back to me."

I took a step forward, and that's when he turned to face me. His eyes, once bright and filled with love, now dull and lifeless, fell upon me. The hope in his voice quickly turned to disappointment.

"Oh," he said, his voice filled with anger. "It's just you, Ava. Where's my little boy? Where's Ethan?"

I tried to ignore the sting of his words, but it was impossible. Every time he saw me, he was reminded of what he had lost and he took it out on me. I was the constant reminder of the tragedy that had befallen our family.

"He's at his friend's house," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll go check on him after dinner."

"You can't even keep an eye on your own brother," William sneered, his words cutting me to the core. "You're just like your mother, always disappointing me."

I hung my head, tears stinging my eyes as I walked past him and into the kitchen. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating me with their hopelessness. I didn't know how much longer I could take this, but for Ethan's sake, I knew I had to keep going.

I try to keep my cool and not engage in an argument with him. I know it won't help and will only make things worse. I just try to endure and ignore. I can't help but think about my younger brother, Ethan, who's 14 years old. He's not supposed to be coming home late. Ethan is my father's favorite child, his remaining hope, and he looks so much like my mother. While I am the embodiment of William's regrets and tragedy, and he despises me for it.

I was heading to the kitchen to start dinner when I decided to call Ethan on his phone. He's not supposed to be coming home late, especially on a Monday. I wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Hey Ethan, where are you? It's getting late, you need to come home now." I heard the sound of my own voice crack as I tried to hide my worry.

"I'm on my way, Ava. I just stopped by the store to buy something." Ethan answered, sounding casual and carefree.

"Just be careful, okay? And hurry home, Dad's been asking for you." I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but I couldn't help but think of the times our father had gotten angry at Ethan for being late.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there soon. Don't worry, sis." Ethan said before hanging up.

I let out a sigh of relief and headed towards the kitchen to prepare dinner. I just hoped that tonight would be peaceful and that Ethan would get home safely.

After hanging up, I focus on making dinner. I always make sure that Dad has something to eat, even if he doesn't want it. I walk over to the living room where he's sitting on the couch, drink in hand.

"Dad, I made dinner. You need to eat," I say softly, trying not to upset him.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbles, not even looking at me.

"Please, Dad. You need to take care of yourself. You have to eat," I insist.

"Leave me alone, Ava. I don't need you nagging me all the time," he snaps, his tone aggressive.

I try to hide my hurt and disappointment. I know he doesn't mean it. He's just struggling with his mental health and the loss of Mom. I put the food on the table and sit down, silently eating my own dinner. I'll try again tomorrow.

I sat down on the kitchen floor and looked up at the ceiling. I felt so helpless and hopeless. I don't know what to do anymore. It seemed like no one was listening to me, not even God.

"God, if you're really up there, why do you keep taking away the people I love? Why do I have to endure all this pain and suffering?" I whispered. "Why can't you just give me a sign that you're there and that everything's going to be okay?"

Tears started streaming down my face. I was tired of being strong. I was tired of trying to keep everything together. I just wanted to give up.

I shouldn't be doing this, I never pray. But here I am, begging for help. Where are you God? I need you. My family is falling apart, and I can't do this on my own anymore. My dad is spiraling out of control, Ethan is always out late, and I'm just trying to hold it together.

But what's the point? If you were really there, why would you let all this happen to us? To me? I thought you were supposed to be a loving and caring God, but all I see is misery and pain.

I remembered Noah and felt grateful for his presence in my life. If he wasn't here, I don't know how I would have made it this far. And Ethan, too. They're the only reasons I haven't completely given up. If it wasn't for them, I might have just left this house and my dad to his own devices. But I can't abandon them, no matter how hopeless and helpless I feel. They need me, just as much as I need them.

But as the minutes pass, and nothing changes, I start to realize the truth. There is no divine intervention, no higher power coming to save me. It's just me, trying to make it through another day. And maybe that's okay, maybe I just have to be strong enough to face this on my own.

As I stood in the kitchen, I heard the front door creak open and close. Ethan had finally come home. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the typical scene that would unfold. I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, where my father was seated in his usual chair.

"Ethan, my boy! Come here and give your old man a hug," my father exclaimed as he got up from his chair and opened his arms wide. 

Ethan walked over to our father and embraced him tightly. My heart sank a little as I watched the scene unfold in front of me. My father never hugged me like that.

Ethan then noticed the food I had prepared for our father. "Here's your food, dad. Take a bite," he said, taking a spoon and starting to feed our father. 

I looked on, a mix of emotions running through me. Part of me was grateful that Ethan was taking care of our father, but another part of me was jealous. Why couldn't my father be proud of me too? Why did he only have love for Ethan?

As Ethan sits down, I call him over to have a talk.

"Ethan, can you come over here for a minute?" I called out to him. As he walked over, I could see the slight wariness in his eyes.

"What's up, Ava?" he asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," I started, trying to keep my tone as calm and concerned as possible. "I noticed you came home pretty late today."

"Oh, yeah. I was hanging out with Jonah and some friends after class," he said with a shrug.

"I get it, you're 14 now and you want to spend time with your friends," I said. "But I just wanted to remind you that coming home this late isn't the best idea."

"I understand, Ava. I'm sorry if I worried you," Ethan said, looking contrite.

"It's not just about worrying, Ethan," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's about being responsible. You're growing up now, and you need to start thinking about your safety and being home at a reasonable time."

Ethan nodded, and I could tell he was taking my words to heart. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," he promised.

"I know you're excited for the Youth night on Wednesday," I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "But please remember to prioritize your responsibilities at home."

Ethan hugged me and said, "Thanks, Ava. I promise I won't let you down."