☁️Little Charlie☁️

CH 8//"Why am I like this?"

TW alcohol use, talk of death

2 more long hours passed before school came to an end. Charlie saw Alex one more time outside of school, standing by the parking lot. The blonde saw him and gave him a smile and a wave. Charlie waved back before making his way home. He took his time, kicking a stone along the way. He stopped once he was in front of the small sun bleached house near the edge of town.

He stood there a few moments, listening for any signs of life inside. A full minute had passed, all he could hear were the birds and the wind chime from Mrs.Shermans pourch next door. The brunette felt a little more at ease and walked up the yard. He pushed through the screen door and took off his shoes inside the porch. His mother may not be here anymore to enforce the rules, but he still followed them. He looked up at the last door that would lead inside. He placed his hand on the door knob and took in a deep breath before pushing it open. He slowly krept in and looked around. So far so good. He closed the door behind him quietly and quickly made his way up the stairs. Once in the security of his room he let himself breath easily.

The boy walked over to his dressor and tossed his back-pack on top. He then took his jeans off, adding it to the pile in the corner. He took his hoodie off, laying it over his chair and slipped on a pair of swetpants and oversised T-shirt. Now comfortable, He layed down on his bed and spent the next few hours distracting himself with youtube videos and his bag of Cheeto's.

Then he heard a knock on his door. He paused the video immidiatly and sat up. The door slowly creeped open until his father appeared.

"Charlie, I'm ordering pizza, you want peparoni right?" He was sober and spoke in a rather calm voice. It was rare to see him like this. "Charlie" David said again. Charlie snapped back to reality and nodded. David then put the phone up to his ear and closed the door. Charlie listened as David's footsteps faded down the hall and let himself fall back into his pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his thoughts take over.

"Look buddy, that's you!" Amanda beamed. She pointed to a small two year old in a video who was giggling and singing with his mother.
The small 5 year old boy watched in amazement and leaned in to get a better look of himself. David came up from behind him, and scooped him up in his arms. At first, Charlie didn't know if he should be scared or excited. David swung him around making spaceship noises before planting him back down on the ground. David chuckled and russtled his hair, making the boy smile.

Those were some of the few good times he shared with his Dad. Deep down his Dad was a good hearted person. But once he let stress from work get to him, things started to go downhill. It started with going to the bar once a week, pretty harmless. After Charlie was born and came around the age of where he "should" have been talking, that once a week trip turned into two, three, four, until he was almost gone completly. This upset Amanda and she had to beg him to come home. So to compramise he took the bar to their home. Every night after work he would stop by the liquor store to make sure his fridge was stock full. When Amanda complained about it they started to break out into fights. He never lay a hand on her. But the verbal abuse between them traumatized Charlie, the roots to his anxiety and depression.

It only got worse after his mother had passed. His parents had gotten into another fight, so Amanda decided to go for a drive at night. The next day she was declared dead at the hospital.

Charlie never got to say goodbye.

After that, David became much more scary. He was deeply hurt, and took out all his anger out on Charlie. He blamed him for it. It was his fault they got into fights. He didn't want to talk afterall. If he was normal, then everything would have been fine.

The foggy vision pulled Charlie out of his thoughts. He sat up and wiped the tears away before they could escape. He let out a sigh and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Why am I like this?" He thought to himself.