𝘼𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙨𝙩 [𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣]

[After the Burn]

The next few weeks were nothing short of miserable for those living at the house on Cherry Lane. With Billy gone, Neil had simply lost it. His presence already harsh, became a constant storm of anger, lashing out at Cherry, Max, and Susan over the smallest things. Every night was the same—yelling, doors slamming, and bitter accusations filling the air. The house itself began to appear like the chaos that went on inside. Empty beer bottles littered every surface, the smell of alcohol hanging heavy in every room. Plates and dirty dishes piled up in the sink, the remnants of half-eaten meals left to fester.

Neil spent most of his time in front of the TV, a beer in hand, the news or some old sports rerun blaring as background noise to his tirades. He would pick fights with anyone in his path, whether it was Max for being too quiet or Cherry for simply existing. Susan, still trying to understand all that'd happened, hovered in the background, her face pale and drawn, too scared to intervene. The whole house seemed to sag under it all—the grief, the anger, the loss. It wasn't just Billy who was gone; it felt like whatever happiness had once existed in that house had died with him.

One evening, the tension in the house finally reached its breaking point. The evening started like any other—Neil in front of the TV, the glow from the screen casting dark shadows on his face. A beer bottle dangled loosely from his hand as the sound of a sports commentator's voice echoed through the room. Cherry and Max were holed up in their rooms, trying to stay out of sight, while Susan quietly moved around the kitchen, cleaning up whatever messes she could manage to tackle after her long day at work. Glasses clicked against one another as she placed them on a shelf, Neil's voice booming without warning.

"Susan!" Neil barked, his voice cutting through the dull roar of the TV. The sharpness of his tone made Cherry and Max freeze where they sat on their bed, their quiet conversation dying in an instant. Susan, looking pale and exhausted, appeared at the entryway of the living room, her face drawn tight with stress. "What is it, Neil?" she asked, her voice careful, measured, as if she already knew what was coming. "Will you shut the hell up? I can't even hear my damn show over all your banging!" Neil's eyes flashed with irritation as he gestured at her with the remote, his beer sloshing dangerously close to spilling.

Susan's hands shook slightly, but she kept her voice calm. "I'm just cleaning up, Neil. There's a mess everywhere." She motioned to the clutter of empty beer cans and dirty plates strewn across the room, but he wasn't interested in explanations. "I don't give a shit about the mess! What I care about is some damn peace and quiet in my own house!" Neil slammed the remote down on the coffee table, the sound making the woman flinch. Susan took a breath, trying to keep her composure. "Neil, please. We're all going through enough right now—" "Enough? Don't you start with that," Neil cut her off, standing up suddenly, towering over her.

"Don't you dare start with that 'we' crap. I'm the only one holding this house together while you all sit around feeling sorry for yourselves." Susan's face tightened, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Holding this house together? Neil, look around you. This place is falling apart." Neil's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step toward her. "And whose fault is that, huh? Yours. You let them run wild, do whatever the hell they wanted. I wasn't here enough to fix all your screw-ups, and now look at where we are." Cherry could feel her nails digging into her palms, her chest tightening from her spot in her room.