The Ways of Patching Up | ✓

Nineteenth

"Elliot...?"

That was the first word Elliot heard the moment he woke up from his sleep.

He slowly opened his droopy eyes and glanced to the side. As his vision gradually cleared, Elliot noticed that Dad was fully awake, looking down at him. The boy pulled the corner of his lips to forge a smile, but froze when he realized that his father's expression paled, completely washed out of its colors.

I've never seen Dad with that look before. He swallowed his saliva as he could feel his fingers tingling for no reason. Why is he like that? There must be something wrong...

"Dad?" Without any second thoughts, Elliot questioned, "what's up?"

At his son's interrogations, Lawson promptly snapped himself out of his trance. He was about to say something, but his sharp headaches showed no mercy. It constantly bludgeoned his brain to no end, its force was so powerful that if his skull wasn't strong enough, it would effortlessly crack apart. Inevitable groans escaped from his sore throat as he clenched his head. "Agh fuck... this hurts so bad..."

"Dad!" Chills quickly rushed down Elliot's spine as he instinctively drew closer towards his father. His chest tightened as he reached for Dad's shaking hands and held them tight. Meanwhile, his mind was scrambling to find the perfect words and form them into a proper sentence. It took some moments before he finally managed to speak, "Dad, your head's hurting again..."

"I know... but I'm already used to this..." Lawson writhed as he tried massaging his temples to somehow relieve the pounding pain. Regardless of his suffering, the man then turned towards his small son as he whispered something, "it's fine, Elliot, I'm gonna take care of this... Just get ready for school, alright?"

His dismissive response was expected, but it felt so odd at how his tone abruptly turned from serious into something more... soft? Maybe, gentle was more appropriate, but for Elliot, both of them weren't exactly the words that he would use to describe Dad in general.

Sure, his voice remained gruff and heavy, but the fact that his demands weren't as harsh as the previous days.. just left Elliot dazed.

Despite everything, the child had no complaints, as he decided to listen and walked back to his room. However, all of the unanswered questions about his father never really died down. If anything, they replicated even more. What's up with Dad...? Why has he become so weird these past few days...? What made him like that? Maybe because yesterday... Mr. Zheng said something?

Even when he was preparing himself for school, Elliot pondered further, particularly the primary cause of his father's pain and unusual actions. Mr. Zheng's right... maybe he has been hurting and not feeling well because of those beers he has been drinking... that probably explains why...

Elliot then lowered his gaze down, staring at the floor as he zipped his jacket. I just don't want to see Dad hurt and like that anymore... or else... he'll be...

The boy couldn't complete his thoughts as the bad dream he had last night seeped its way to his mind. He vividly remembered how he had screamed for his father, who was held down by a group of people he was completely unfamiliar with. His heart throbbed and his stomach twisted at the recurring flashbacks, so he pushed them all to the back of his head.

No...

I don't want that to happen...

I don't want Dad to be taken away just because he's sick...

I have to be doing something, after all....

An idea then popped up in his mind while he closed the door to his room and trod down the staircase. It felt like it was the most capable thing he could do, although it might take a load of effort. Maybe... I should say something like... stopping him from drinking beers...? I can also explain how beers can make him more sick or something like that...

Yeah... maybe I have to try this! If I kept on being quiet then that nightmare can come true! Elliot gulped as he tried to gather his courage. Okay Elliot... just be brave and talk about it! You can do this!

When the child noticed Dad sitting in the dining room, he found himself glued to his spot and unable to move further, despite him trying to think on the brighter side. His breaths began to grow uneasy while he balled both of his hands. His hands felt all sticky as he watched Dad nibbling on a slice of bread, although it seemed like he was forcing himself to eat.

Come on Elliot! Stop being so scared! Do you want him to be gone...?

"Um... Dad...?" Elliot squeaked out, and Dad's gaze turned towards him. At this time, he started hearing his loud heartbeat, but he knew that there was no more stopping now.

"Dad... um... can I..." his fingers fidgeted as he slowly made his way towards him. He couldn't even look properly at Dad, but the top priority at this moment was to get his point across, "can I... say something...?"

"Mm..." that was Lawson's only response before he took a very tiny bite of his breakfast, but for the small blondie, it was green light. He then settled down on his seat as he took his time to explain.

"So... I heard that drinking beers..." Elliot heavily stuttered, "it's not gonna make you happy or something... it actually makes you really sad and it makes you really unwell. So maybe... um... that's why you've been getting so many headaches every morning... and well, yeah... so maybe you should stop buying those beers, you know, or else... you're gonna get more sick."

While his son tried his best efforts, Lawson simply kept munching on the bread. Despite the nausea running through him, he pushed himself to chew on the bland bread and swallowed it. Subsequently, he peered up, his reddened eyes stared straight at his son, "and where exactly did you know that from?"

"Uh... um..." Elliot's body stiffened, "well... Mr. Zheng told me about it... and um... I kinda also... observe it as well..."

"That old annoying dude told you everything, huh..." Dad snickered derisively as his half-eaten bread fell from his grasp, "that's really cool of him."

"... but Dad, I think he's right," Elliot, for no explanations, found the courage to raise his voice as he could speak out his deepest concerns for his sullen father, "you keep on getting yourself hurt when you keep drinking those beers. And then you've been really weird and all of that... maybe because you're feeling unwell!"

"How many times should I say that I'm fine, Elliot? Nothing's wrong with me," Dad grunted. No, you're not fine! I know that because I have been around you for so long!

"Dad... please listen..." Elliot was getting desperate by this point, "I'm saying this because yo-"

"I did listen," said Lawson, cutting him off.

"No you're not! Please Dad... you gotta stop all of this... it's not gonna make you happy... please..."

Despite his pleading words, Dad didn't say anything as his stare merely zoomed blankly at the food. And so, with all the lack of answers and attention... it ultimately turned Elliot's feelings into something else. His nervousness vanished in a snap of a finger as he abruptly shot up from his seat, almost knocking the chair off. He then gripped both of his fists together.

"I just DON'T want you to be taken away, OKAY?!" Elliot screamed as he could feel his eyes start moistening, "if you keep on doing these things and not stopping, then I'M NOT GONNA SEE YOU ANYMORE!!!"

This attracted Lawson's attention faster than ever as he gawked hard at his trembling son. The child never really had a fit of temper before, and the fact that he just exploded right in front of him without showing any signs of fear... it was just too much of a reality for him to take.

"El-" Before the man could call him out, Elliot, with tears running down his cheeks, grabbed a piece of bread and took off to the doors. He then slammed it shut, and the thundering noise it produced literally rocked the whole house. It even made him flinch in his place.

Lawson wasn't able to recover from all the scenes that went really fast that they became a blur. He was trying to process them little by little, in spite of his severely aching head. When it all came dawning upon him, he gritted his teeth and proceeded to pound his fist on the table, shaking the entire food and plates. He then took his glass and swallowed all of the contents.

And so... he was left alone to reflect on his faulty actions.