'Dysfunctional: not operating normally or properly'
That was one way to describe Clara Campbells family. Dysfunctional; not operating properly. That was just what happened when your older siblings leave you.
Or that's what Clara had always believed...
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| Clara Campbell |
Today had become just like every other day had: arguing. It felt like since that day, two weeks ago now, everyone had been picking fights with one another. Cam had moved back out a day after the argument, and Greyson had gone with him for a little while. But, when they would come here for dinner or anything, it would always end in shouting.
It was never quiet here anymore. Caleb and I were usually in my room, watching movies or just reading books in peace in quiet, sometimes sharing headphones to drown out the sounds from below us. When it got real bad, Colton would come and sit with us, usually with his back pressed to the door.
In two weeks, I hadn't had a single conversation with Auston, and now, I was a little scared to do so. I hadn't seen this side of him since the day he had left the apartment. Yes of course there had always been someone shouting and arguing in the apartment, but it had very rarely been between the boys. I haven't even seen Mackenzie in three weeks, going on four. Four weeks since Greyson had been back, and the football game.
I should have known this was coming though. Our apartment had always been like this at some stage. We just weren't quiet people. "I'm going to go and get something to eat" I had barely left my room, only for a few dinners, but even then, Colton would usually come and take us, sneaking us out of the house and to somewhere for dinner. It was easier that way.
"You sure?" Colton perked up from the door, from where he had his head slumped against the wall beside it, blinking his eyes at me. "Yeah" I just nodded along, as I grabbed for the handle. "At least let one of us come with you" this felt odd. I didn't like the feeling that creeped from my fingers on the door handle and to my chest. It was nerve wracking, to be truthful.
"Sure" I murmured, opening the door. The house had been quiet for over an hour, not that I had been counting the hours or minuets or anything. The house had turned colder than it usually was, missing not only the warmth of the people in it, but the warmth from the heaters, that Auston always made sure were on whenever it got this cold.
Colton had gotten up to follow me, as I had peeked around the corners before briskly walking down the hallway and to the stairs. The same stairs that used to be familiar to me, but now, I felt like I was running a marathon to get down them and back up them in less than a minuet to avoid anything from happening.
To keep everything at peace, and not war. To not having this anymore. Colton had caught up to me now, pushing me behind him as he looked around the corner of the kitchen. He saw something, freezing up, but not taking his eyes away from whatever was in front of him. He didn't move, not even when I stepped around him.
I moved quickly, out of Colton's way and towards the kitchen. Stretched out on the coffee nook, was Auston, a beer in his hand, as he was snoring softly, with no shirt on. I stopped, paralyzed at the sight in front of me. Paralyzed with fear of what had happened for him to be in this state.
