A Force Of Gravity✅

5

-Will- 8 Years Ago-

"There was a time, I met a girl of a different kind."
-Don't you worry child by Swedish Mafia

The party my parents are having is extremely boring and I have no idea how people stand it. Even from my place on the stairs as I peer through the railings, I can see how fake everyone is. The smiles, the dresses, the suits, the music...even the alcohol.

My mother is the fakest of them all with her polished self. She has chosen a white dress, some brand called Dior designed it. The sound of her laugh carries up the stairs to where I'm sitting and I cringe. I hate her laugh.

I don't understand why we had to move here. I liked living by my other family and going to watch the waves every morning with my grandma. Now I have to endure these parties because my father has become a very important person within this town.

"Will, what the fuck are you doing?" My father's harsh voice makes me jump and cower away into the wall as he storms up the stairs to where I'm sat. He grabs me by the back off my collar, making me panic as he shoves me forward. "Get downstairs and stop being antisocial."

"Yes sir." I mumble quietly and he lifts up his hand as if to hit me, making me flinch. He scowls at my reaction and drops his hand, making me sigh in relief before he storms off again. My father started hitting me last year.

Sometimes it was because I was being a wuss. Sometimes it was because he was bored. Sometimes he punches me so hard that I can't do PE. I tried to tell my mother but she ignored me and told me off for telling lies.

That was the first time that I realised how much I hated my parents. I don't know who I hate more. The man who punches me or the women who turns the other way. I've never told anyone and I don't plan to. I don't necessarily blame my father. He tells me that he has to do this to teach me how to be a strong boy and it has made me tougher after all.

I make my way down the stairs, gliding my hand down the bannister and take two steps at a time. People try to talk to me and make a fuss about how cute I am but I knock away their hands. I'm 10, not a baby and it bugs me when my parent's friends do that.

I spot Barnaby amongst the crowd and I'm surprised my father is allowing him to be here. Ben's father and mine have always had a silent rivalry between them. My father never invites him to events like these and my mother never speaks to him. Ben and I are too close to care about that though.

"Have you tried this?" Ben asks as he sneaks over to me with Cooper standing beside him. He smiles mischievously and leads us both to the corner of the room where he shows us a bottle of brown liquid.

"What is it?" I ask, slightly confused and he grins wider. Cooper looks around in alarm as if we are doing something naughty and I raise my eyebrows. Everyone is too focused on being false to pay attention to the kids playing with alcohol.

"It's my father's Whiskey. I stole it from his office." He says wickedly, holds it up to his lips and I watch in amusement as he takes a big sip. Ben abruptly starts coughing it back up again as if he is choking and Cooper and I's eyes widen.

"Ben! You shouldn't be drinking alcohol. If our parents found out that you had that, they'd ground you. Meaning no more sneaking into that haunted house." Cooper says suddenly and I smirk at how much of a goody two shoes he is. His parents are the best out of all of us. They care a lot about him whereas ours don't care.

"Oh please, if my father saw me he would pat me on the back and congratulate me." Ben states confidently and I nod in agreement, knowing that is most likely true. Cooper stills frowns and keeps looking over our shoulders as Ben takes another sip.