fin de siècle ; mixte 1963

chapter 8 ; it's the most wonderful time of the year

Sunday passed as a big, messy blur.

Gisele woke up at night to the sound of Jean vomiting. Thankfully, Vergoux had placed a bowl on his side of the bed, so neither of them had to clean the floor afterwards. When she fell back asleep, she kept dreaming; dreaming of bad things, of hurtful things, of things that made her want to wake up.

But she didn't, not as quickly as she usually would. Maybe it was Gisele's mind using the chance to sleep after denying it so many times or maybe it was her body needing the time to recover. She had no idea; all she knew was that she woke up after noon, feeling more tired than she's ever been.

Jean was still sleeping, so Gisele decided to take a quick shower. She felt the need to wash off all the happenings of the previous evening, to scrub it off her body, to see them disappear in the drain.

During the shower, she didn't dare to look at her body. She kept her eyes up, studying the tiles on the ceiling to occupy her thoughts. Gisele didn't want to look down, knowing that she would hate what she'd see; would detest herself for bearing the marks her father left.

She had no idea why she felt so ashamed. It wasn't her fault that Benoit Dupin decided to be a scumbag who beat up his own kids. She might have started that fight, Jean might have finished it and Lavigne might have snitched, but in the end it wasn't the fault of either of them. It was all on her father; no one else was to blame.

But the shame... maybe it wasn't the result of the hits she took. Maybe it was the words. The words that one should not hear from anybody, let alone their own parent, but ones that were everything Gisele ever knew. She was six when Benoit called her a whore for the first time; she didn't even know what that meant, back then.

The hours after that passed even faster than the ones Gisele spent dreaming. Jean, after waking up, mostly stayed in bed, going between looking around his bedroom mindlessly and vomiting. Gisele managed to grab some bread and tea from the kitchen, when their parents went out for dinner. The twins ate it more out of need than want, then immediately readied themselves to sleep, dreading the idea of going to school for the last day before Christmas.

It was not going to be an easy one, that Gisele was sure of.

***

The first thing that Gisele noticed in the morning was that her parents' car had disappeared. They must have taken off at night, she concluded, feeling the most relieved she's felt for the last two weeks. It made going to school just a little bit easier.

Jean still did not feel great at all, constantly dizzy and light-headed, not to mention the swelling on his face, but at least he didn't puke anymore. Gisele was convinced her brother should stay at home and rest, but he didn't want to hear any of that. She knew that it was unrealistic; if the school decided to inform their parents about his absence, both of them would be screwed.

As they left the house, Gisele was surprised to see Joseph and Charles waiting for them, with expressions still sleepy and cigarettes between their fingers. They stood in silence, observing the life on the street around them, seemingly each deep into his own thoughts.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Gisele, approaching them.

Joseph shrugged, greeting her brother with a handshake.

"We wanted to check up on you," explained Charles, watching the twins closely. He must have liked what he saw, because he hummed with acceptance.

"Well, you did. Can we go now?" asked her brother, definitely not pleased to be out of the house. He took one of his cigarettes, on his way to light it up, before Gisele snatched it from his hands.