Before You

Will it stop soon?

“Many have envisaged that the misery is tolerable if they see lovers on the other side, and I am the same.”

I’m trying not to breath too loudly right now, maybe it will trigger their dark side. As per usual, I’m sitting by the window, looking out the window as my mother does a soduku, my father occasionally helping when he stops at a red light. I find myself glad the first time in a lifetime as I’m not sitting in the middle next to the two of them. We’ve just crossed the driveway of our creaky, rundown farm when my mother decides to open her mouth. “You’ll be going to school tomorrow, then all week. This is non-negotiable as well, you don’t need to miss two weeks because you’re being lazy.” She tells me, I only look away before following them inside. Maybe she’s telling me because it’s true. I swallow hard when I enter the lounge, it feels exactly the same as it did before and I can’t breath. “Don’t do that, you’re fine.” I nod even though I don’t feel like I am, because in this house it’s ‘whatever she says, goes.’ I’m only happy because Thunder doesn’t have to suffer here like I do, he can be fed and warm for a change.

I breath in, coldness staying in my throat as I observe the room. It’s dark, and as I make my way over to the Saturn curtains I stumble, banging my foot against something wooden. I groan, holding it as I jump around like an idiot. “EY, KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!” I manage not to roll my eyes as if they were standing right in front of me, and yell back at the rough tone, “YEP!” I’d bet money they’re shit talking people down there while watching the Sunday show, Christie’s Christian Christmas. It really is as bad as it sounds. I sigh, opening the curtains and letting some light inside, the bedroom smelling particularly rotten today. When I turn around I find out why. With the dark carpet and no light, there was no possible reason how I’d know what’s on my floor. I step around it, eyeing it sideways like it’ll start moving any second. Let’s hope it doesn’t. I breathe out, continuing to side step my way to my bedroom door. “MOM!” I scream rather girly, He’ll probably go at me again. A second later I hear, “Oh, can’t you do anything for yourself?” But even she covers her nose and mouth when she walks in, looking around until she spots what’s wrong. She drops her hand, wide eyed as she steps back, mouth agape when she suddenly starts squealing. “Jameson, what did you do to your mother?!” My father’s tone is as stern is ever, storming the place like he’s some mafia boss ready to kill me. “What the bloody hell is that?” He points at the dark brown, matted fur of something. To me, it looks like it’s been blended on there on purpose, but I know for a fact my parents would never react like this if they knew. So where the hell did this thing come from? I wonder, staring at it with the same wide-eyed-kid look as my parents. Aren’t they going to do something about this? Clearly not, in fact they’re both kind of stuck by my door like statues, glued to the spot. I look back at it, thinking, there is absolutely NO WAY I am touching that. I’m not really sure how my father wants me to address him, so I don’t. What I say is, “Mom, are you okay?” She looks at me, frowning as if deep in thought. “You’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” Then promptly turns the other way, avoiding the question as she tells me my father will get someone on this. “I don’t want to know, okay? Don’t tell me.” His voice contorts to something other than his glare, something of great emotion as he glances back at the creature. What I’m sure was once a squirrel. “Like i was the one who did something?” I mumble as he leaves, slowly leaving as check my clothes are intact and smell fine. Thank. God. When I get there, flattening out my pajamas, I can see my mother setting up a small bed for me on the pull-out couch. “Thank you.” She smiles at me, before frowning once more. “It’s no problem, son.” Her words force a jolt on me at the realization, a smile takes place on my face as she leans in to hug me. “Just don’t let animals into your room again.”
“Aand, moment ruined. Thanks, mom.” She swats me, though this time it isn’t serious as she laughs quietly. “Ellie. Aren’t you coming to bed?” His eyes are narrowed in her direction and her smile disappears instantly, following after him. Father is about to leave when he turns around, looking around. I guess his act really is an act when his tight-lipped expression falters. “If you stay up late on the TV, at least keep the volume on low. Your phone is in the kitchen draw.” I smile, for once this has been a nice night. “Thanks, dad.” He only nods, quickly turning to hide his face. But I catch it, the faintest smile. They’re not so mean. But a heartbeat later, I’m at that draw. There is no way they’re being this nice without a reason. ‘Really tried it, didn’t you, punk?’ I read in neat handwriting, my father. I know it is, yellow sticky notes? Neat handwriting? He does it every time he’s furious with me, and that’s the moment I know I am entirely in for it tomorrow.