'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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
| Auston Campbell |
1 and a half months ago
About a week, almost two weeks had gone by, from when my sister had been beaten to a pulp at school. Now, here I was, drinking my asse off, because I had watched her go back to square one, and I was the cause of it all. I let this happen, after I had promised her that this wouldn't happen to her, that I wouldn't let her get hurt.
Whether or not I said those words to her face, I knew that she would rather see it in my actions, and I had made sure of it, that I wouldn't harm her, but then, I just yelled and screamed at her, telling her that she couldn't even keep her end of the promise. I felt like the worlds shittiest brother, if that was even possible anymore.
I had left her behind, all those years ago, and it's not her fault that she was left behind, when I should have taken her and a few of the boys. I was 18, when she was born, so I could have taken the custody of all of my brothers, then and there. But I didn't, and I will forever regret that until I was in my grave. I would take it with me to the grave.
Taking another swig of my beer, I was hanging with my buddies down at a local bar. It was one of the only nights a week that none of us were allowed to be on call. It was this rule, that we couldn't work more than whatever hours, but we always did. Only on Saturday nights, did we not even pick up our work phones.
"How's the wife, Ton?" I took a final drink of my beer, before getti1ng another one, allowing me to forget that I had had a wife. I had been married about a week ago, and now it was holding on by a thread. If that was what you even want to call what I was feeling, now that I had found out that my wife had been fucking another man, in my own bed.
The bed that I had paid for, and constantly changed the sheets so that Olivia was on trend. I didn't give a fuck, what the sheets were like, only that I was the only one that slept in them now, because I couldn't do it again. I couldn't go through that again. "Probably won't have one by the end of the night" I muttered, as a chorus of responses where heard.
"It can't have been that shit of week" one of the only people that had stuck through all of this, even med school with me, was my best mate Lachlan. We had been friends since day one of preschool, and had never been separated since then. We had become like brothers, as he knew the ins and outs of me, as I did him. Clara had loved him, before he too had taken off.
I didn't know how to frame the words without making Olivia seem like a bad person, but in truth, she was. She was an awful person. "I found her fucking a man in my bed, the night after I had brought Clara back here with us" I muttered, taking another swig of my drink. I didn't know how much I had drunk, but that I was on the verge of passing out.
"Drink up buddy, cause sure as shit, you need it"
---
I wasn't sure how I had made it here, to Olivia's place, or why there was a party on, but before I knew it, I was naked, back pressed to the bed, as Olivia was above me, doing whatever she pleased. I was beyond drunk, and I knew that she knew that too. She wasn't drunk, I knew that much.
