CHAPTER FORTY TWO
There was that silence again, as if our very lives had been put on pause. It was incredibly intimidating, penetrating every inch of the house.Everything was still, we felt as if we were frozen in place watching his back as he went up the stairs.
I turn to look at mum as she watches dad disappear, "Harry! Harry, wait!"
But he doesn't. He doesn't wait. He doesn't stop. He doesn't even hesitate when he hear her pleading with him. We hear a door slam and look at each other.
"I'm sorry." I mutter.
"Mum. I'm sorry."
She shakes her head, "I think it's too late for that, baby."
And I know she doesn't mean it in a harsh fashion, she was simply stating a fact. It was a harsh one in and of itself, but the fact that she said it so calmly, so incredibly without emotion, made me realize how it was simply a statement now.
It's too late.
It is now too late for I'm sorry.
She heads up the stairs and I knew she was going to try to reach him. She was going to fucking try, while I stood here and did nothing.
Because what could I do?
"I'm sorry." I whisper pathetically, but of course no one hears. No one was here to hear me.
Ultimately, why does it matter if they do. What could it have possibly changed?
It won't change anything.
Thoughts ran rampantly in my head, all screaming "They were right." Mom, Uncle Lou, Janice, they were all right. Everything was starting to unravel, and I didn't know how to stop it. How could it all have come to this?
Yes, I knew it was coming. I knew that something bad would happen, that it would be inevitable. But how could he not understand? How could dad not possibly want to understand. I have never been at odds with him, I have never been this far from him.
How could it have come to this?
I furrow my brow as I hear dad yell down the hallway, his raspy voice coming through my wooden door and into my room. It's a pleading voice, one full of regret.
"Don't go! I didn't mean it!"
I unwrap myself from my sheets and crack the door open just a bit, just enough to see mum rushing down the stairs with a small pack in her hands.
She doesn't turn back. She keeps going, her blonde hair swinging behind her fervently.
Dad's voice cracks, his voice raspier with every word, "Edie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Love!"
A door slams shut. I try to contain it, the sob that was about to escape my lips.
A fist hits a wooden surface and all of a sudden his raspy voice rings throughout the house "Fucking shit!"
My heart stops as I imagine dad bent over the door, his hair in his face and his fist raised against the door. I hear a door creak and peeked a bit to the left, knowing that it would be Ollie. He looked at me worriedly, and I poked out my hand telling him to come towards me.
He quietly opens his door, his feet sliding upon the wooden floor to me. Ollie tries to not make any sound as he slides into my room.
I close the door and flip on the light, his eyes search mine for an answer.
"Emmie, what's going on?" His voice sounds smaller than usual, his brow was covered by his blonde mop of curls, but I could still see how furrowed it was. I tried to smooth out the wrinkles, my thumb slightly working out the creases on his soft skin. He stops my hand and lowers it, holding it in his. "Emmie, I'm serious. Please tell me."
"I don't know, bud. I really don't."
"Why were you all screaming?"
"Something...something happened with me and dad is all."
"Then why did mum leave?"
"She'll be back."
"Then why did she take a pack?"
I look away from his piercing, questioning eyes, "She'll be back soon, Ollie."
"Is it because of Uncle Niall?"
"Is it because you fancy Uncle Niall?"
"How...how did you know that?"
"You and Janice aren't good at keeping your voices down when you're talking in here."
"Have you been eavesdropping?" I say hugging him towards me.
He shakes his head, "No...you guys just talk loud."
He looks up at me, his face still pressed to my body, "Is it because of that though?"
"You can tell me."
"I know bud, I just really don't want to talk about it right now."
"What do you want to do then?"
"I think it's much past your bedtime."
We both turn to look at the clock, "God Ollie, it's four in the morning."
"Yeah..." He says unwrapping himself from me, heading toward the door.
"You can sleep in here if you like. No use in you sleeping alone."
He turns towards me and smiles, jumping into my bed at once, and holding the covers open for me to join him. I switch off the light before finally coming back to my bed.
As I wrap him in my embrace, as I have every time he has had a bad dream or trouble sleeping, I could feel him relaxing and falling asleep almost immediately, "Goodnight baby brother." I say in a whisper, kissing the top of his head.
"Goodnight big sister."
I lay in a sleepless dream, a reality that is surreal. A dream-like state, gone so utterly wrong. It was in every way an utter nightmare.
I could hear dad pacing, I could hear him slamming inanimate objects, I could hear his heartbreak reverberating throughout our incomplete house.
And all I could think was one thing...
It's all my fault.