fragments → garmau • mcd au

[1] morning

The night sky shone dimly into my room located in the attic, the floorboards creaky with spiderwebs hanging at nearly every corner. I adjusted my thick-rimmed black glasses and brushed my blonde hair out of my face as I walked over to my dusty bed with a discoloured blanket and torn pillows. I sat down, a breath of air escaping me.

"Garroth, get to bed. Tomorrow you have school." My father's raspy, powerful voice bounced off the walls of my pathetic little room.

"Yes, father." I say, taking off my glasses and watching as the world becomes a blur.

"You're driving you and your brother to school tomorrow." My father said before shutting the door.

"Absolutely fantastic, father." I mutter to myself bitterly, before lifting up my thin blanket and placing my head on the remains of my brother's old pillow.

My father always adored my brother, Zane O'khasis.

Has the same power-hungry greed in his blood.

I close my eyes; though unable to sleep. I turn to my right, my bedside table, or shall I say my brother's old one, positioned there.

The contents on the table itself weren't the most captivating. My glasses, a cracked mirror, a picture frame.

A picture frame? You might wonder.

Is there a picture inside the frame? Who's in the picture?

Well, no one.

The lilac purple photo frame held nothing but the cardboard that came with it, I made it when I was younger.

I catch a glimpse of me in the mirror, my blue eyes standing out and contrasting against my blonde hair, even in the moonlight.

I hate myself for it.

Same eyes as my father, and my brother.

I turn to the left and there's nothing there, no bedside table, no nothing.

I close my eyes once more; slowly drifting off to sleep.

•••

My eyes flash open, similar moonlight shining. I rub my eyes and sigh, recklessly using my right hand to search for my glasses to give me clear vision. I finally find it, and grab it. I put them on and my sight crystalized, the sad state of my room an eye sore.

I reluctantly sit up and pull the thin blanket off my legs, and I swing them to the side of the bed. The creak of the floorboards as my feet land on the ground echoes, leaving the room in complete silence after that.

I shake my head, and stand up. I walk over to the wardrobe that has barely three pairs of jeans in, five shirts and two pairs of shoes.

I push my glasses up, and push my hair out of my face. I unhook a white T-shirt with a black cross on it and golden stripes on the rim of the sleeves adn collar from the rack, the only T-shirt that is actually mine, and take a normal pair of denim jeans. I grab my black sneakers and change swiftly, then grab my backpack and sling the straps over my shoulders.

I double check I have everything, then slowly open the door. I walk as quietly as possible, knowing that my brother and father hate to be woken up by me.