Pacifier

❄️Isabelle💔

The days which followed Jakes funeral were cold and grey. Winter set in almost over night and the ice on the road outside sparkled when the sun went down the way the doom and gloom in my eyes sparkled too.

I'd hardly said a word to anyone in days, lost in my thoughts which were cloudy and mired with sorrow and paranoia. The balcony was dark and when the snow fell the sheet of silence, the way it muted the streets of Manchester, it made me feel so alone.

I would watch from where I sat at the back of the balcony, doing homework in my uniform after school, I'd watch my brother and the lads gathering, I'd watch Camille go about her strange and seperate deadly ways. I'd watch Kita and Ben growing closer and less secretive as the days went by. And id wish that I could return to the way I used to be.

Sometimes my brother would walk through the front door, take his cap from his head and mess his hair up. I'd watch as his eyes searched the room for me first and I would feel an ache in my chest, an urge to run to him, steal his cap and wind him up and see him smile.

And then I'd remember my distrust. I'd remember the things Meghan had said and I'd remembered the way they'd all watched me in horror the morning I'd cried and screamed at Van. I'd remember how sitting alone upstairs with Camille had made me understand it all, and I'd force myself to swallow that understanding down once again.

My brother was not good. His friends were not good. Van was not good.

I was born into a family of doomed men and women and one day i would be just like them. That was out of my control now, the only thing I could do was choose the way I wanted to obliterate my youth. I couldn't choose whether it happened but I could choose how and I could choose when.

That was the only power I had now and I had to cling to it. Weaponise it.

And to do that I had to stop behaving like a little girl. Stop believing everything my big brother and his friends told me. Stop believing them altogether.

It hurt and the longer I left it, the more i allowed my fears to twist and fester, the lonelier I felt. The darker my mood and my eyes which glowered to meet their eyes across the room.

It was wounding to meet my brothers gaze. It stung.

But Van was even worse. Vans eyes locked with mine chilled me. My bones sheened with a frost which ached every fibre of my being when I allowed myself to dwell on him for too long.
When I saw him I remembered how happy I had been, how for a brief moment it had been his arms in which I felt the safest, the most serene.

That was all I longed to feel and yet looking at him now i was forced to accept that I might never feel contentment like thst again. That I'd never know true safety again.

So id taken to hiding from him. At first it had been anger which had drawn me away, sent me fleeing every room he entered in a white glow rage. But now it was fear. Fear to feel the ache again because it hurt more than anything had ever hurt me in my life and I was scared I wouldn't be able to remain true to myself forever. That perhaps all he'd have to do was ask me to drop my guard, to relax, and i would. That I'd just do whatever he wanted me to do without thinking because thst was the thing that felt natural. That was the way things felt right between us.

But nothing was right between us and i had to bite my bottom lip to remind myself and hold back the tears every time i saw him.

And that was the other reason I'd been hiding from him. The loathing j felt within myself for myself for ever having shed a tear in front of him. For ever letting him see how much he'd hurt me. How much the world had hurt me sometimes.
I couldn't stand to face him anymore, couldn't stand him looking at me, seeing me for the let down of a girl I was to him.