How Typical

Chapter 3: A happy goodbye

It's been 2 weeks since it was my birthday. Things have been better since then. The children are happy, and are running around playing with each other, all with smiles on their faces. I think they must of forgot what happened, or maybe they are too young to understand. Paul left the day after he attacked us, I haven't seen or heard of him since, which is actually a good thing. He made my childhood hell, as well as Oli's, and it's as if he didn't realise we had already been in the rough. He truly was an awful man, but it's all over now. Paul leaving as lifted a big weight off my shoulders, and I think off everyone else's to.

*FLASH BACK*

I woke up to find myself nestled in the corner of the children's bedroom, with my head leaning on Oli's shoulder. I don't know how long we had been asleep for, couldn't been hours. It might be the next day. Oli had his head stiff against the wall behind us, and was wincing and make sounds of a sad puppy would make. I straightened up, maybe a bit to quickly. I knew my shoulder was injured from when Paul slammed me against the wall, but my injury wasn't as bad as Oli's. I kneeled in front of him and gave him a concerned look.

"How bad is it?" I said worryingly

"It hurts really bad, Bree. I think something's wrong." He continued to struggle in pain.

It sucks so much to see a family member in pain, it's almost as worse as being hurt yourself. I called for Jane and for her to bring up my phone. She came running up the staircase in a hurry, breathing heavily in a puff. I did what anyone with common sense would do and called 000 for a 19 year old boy who was hit in the stomach with a pipe and is finding it very difficult to move. Not something I think the ambulance would hear very often. The ambulance seemed like it took forever to get to the orphanage, probably because we were in a very panicky moment. Whilst still keeping Oli calm, he was hoisted into the morphable bed, carried down the stairs, out the door, and off down the street, leaving dust in our faces and the echo of the blaring siren behind.

After Jane and I said our goodbyes and best wishes, we turned to re enter the building. But of course, standing in the doorway, always appearing at the best of moments, is good ol' Pauly. He had his usual disgusting expression on his face which gave me the chills. I left Jane to handle him, and retreated down the back side of the orphanage, which was my favourite place to go. I sat on my favourite seat, which was surrounded by beautifully smelling yellow and white flowers, and a short and chubby tree. It was my favourite seat because the tree's branches stretched out so far it almost covered the entire backyard with shade. I sat down and covered my ears, to shield myself from the relentless shouting coming from the elderly married couple out front. As much as I didn't want to hear what they were saying, it's almost impossible not to sticky beak. I couldn't make out most of what they were saying, but I heard a lot of:

"You don't care about anyone then yourself! You don't even consider the children's safety!"
"Your such a fuck up, your life is a fuck up!"
"I want a divorce, and I want you to get off my property!"

I also heard a lot of:

"I do everything for you, I practically made your life livable"
"I make all the money, all you do is chit chat and gas bag!"
"You caring about the children?! The kids are fucking animals, your lucky I stepped in to discipline those fucking teenagers, as you weren't and they were to grow up like you! A low life, non-committal dump."

I was shocked to what I was hearing come out of his mouth. Does he really think we are that bad? No, we do everything for him, he doesn't do anything for us, he's lazy and uncaring and a complete slob. He should be thankful for us carrying him along with us. But he did take us in and give us a home, he gave us a roof to sleep under and food to eat, even if we had to prepare it ourselves. Paul gave us hope for a happy childhood, shouldn't we be grateful? Yes, we are very grateful. But..
I was so confused, my head was spinning a million miles an hour. I didn't know what to think anymore. I started to gently cry, but I can't tell whether they were happy or sad tears.
The yelling slowly died off, and concluded by a door slamming shut. I walked back around and found Jane sitting on the grass outside, absolutely fuming. I sat down next to her and hugged her, she acknowledged me but didn't hug me back.