learning to love [on hold]

02 | dreaming

CHAPTER 02 | DREAMING

"Family isn't defined only by last names or blood; it's defined by commitment and love."

OLIVER DURANT POV

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It's my first night in this house.

It's my first night in this cold, small, old, house and I can't sleep.

It's eleven PM.

The floorboards creak. The wind whistles through the alley between our house and the neighbors. Our fridge hums and our dishwasher churns.

It smells musty, damp. Mum said we're going to fix that in the next few days. I hope we do. It's almost choking me.

My heavy blankets rest over my body, and I constantly toss and turn around them, still getting used to the feel of this mattress on a bunk bed. I wear boxer shorts and a baggy shirt, which provide not nearly enough warmth for me in this cold place.

It's my first night in this room.

Flimsy drapes barely conceal the moonlight which is seeping through our window, unwanted but yet still baring light on all of the things I have yet to unpack. The cardboard boxes themselves are stacked along the walls, reaching to the ceiling like makeshift towers. I can just make out the labels written on them in sharpie if I squint; Jacobs toys, Olivers clothes, Olivers books, Jacobs clothes. The floorboards are dark, with deep scratches stuck deeply in the wood. I hope we can find a rug, cause even I admit as a eighteen year old that those scratches are a little creepy.

It's my first night with this family.

This family is edited. New. Smaller.

My Father, Tony, no longer lives with us, a thought that makes my mind quieter, more relaxed. He was never a good Dad to me or my younger brother. He blundered through being a father with about as much knowledge of my brother and I as a goldfish; he was forever forgetting my school functions, basketball games, soccer matches... you name it, he probably wasn't there. Too caught up in his "work"– yeah right. He was probably having an affair with an office woman half his age.

My Father also used to yell. A lot. For years. Years and years and years. About the most ridiculous, patronising, and most hypocritical things. Things that the average person wouldn't care less about.

Until one day, one day where my Mum retaliated, and said thats enough. I will never forget the steely calm but yet furious way she uttered those two simple words.

Those two words caused our lives to change. Divorce papers were filed. Houses and cars and furniture and clothes were sold. A restraining order was enforced to keep my brother and I safe from our Dad's harmful clutches.

My Mother was the driving force that made this move happen, although I helped as much as I could because I knew it was wearing her down. She was only with my father so that she could provide Jacob and I with a decent childhood, and she never loved my Dad really, but stayed with him for the sole purpose of us. This is a testament to her character. She's amazing. Kind. Caring. Always aiding Jacob and I navigate this harsh world and helping us have the littlest negative impact on it as possible, teaching us to love deeply and live brightly. My heart swells thinking about how much she has given up for us, as raising two boys on a mere teachers salary isn't much to live by. Majority of our spare money goes towards us boys, and I love that although I'm constantly telling her to spend some money on herself, to get some wine, or fancy chocolate. God knows she deserves it.