Chapter Text
Chapter 1
My parents are divorced. They fought for ages before they separated, kept trying to make up for mine or my older brothers sake. Yet, for me, it was only made worse by their attempts to make up. For, I'd get my hopes up only for them to be trampled on like a smoked-cigarette. Lucas never let himself hope though. Always used to tell me to stop dreaming and live in the real world. I never listened though because you aren't really supposed to take the words of someone high on pills or drunk on cheap liquor to heart. Suppose he wasn't wrong though.
We switch between houses every 2 weeks, at least we are meant to. I tend to spend more time at my mums then my mother's as my mum is home more. She also listens to what I say to her. My mother tends to pretend ,only to be reading stupid crime statistics, or watching some murder documentary to 'better educate herself'. Like she isn't educated enough. Lucas stays where I do, but he connects more with my mother, because they both seem to know a lot about laws or legal stuff. Each on their own side though, my mother being a detective and my brother... whatever he is. Not that she'd know that though. Too busy working to care about her children's lives. I stopped telling her about mine after a while. Lucas tells her a painted version, one where his declining grades are the fault of the teachers, and not his multiple missing homework assignments or projects, curtesy of him being too high or drunk to do anything.
It's half-term at the minute. Which isn't too bad, apart from the fact I spend every day doing the same thing : sitting in bed pretending I am somewhere else, someone else. I imagine a perfect house, with perfect walls and perfect rooms and perfect parents who don't make their kids split their time between the two. I sleep for long hours, despite having nothing to be tired from other then the exhaustion of living. I ignore messages and calls from friends I have long isolated myself from. I eat little, only eating upon being forced. I don't speak unless spoken too, which is rare. I am left alone. I am staying at my mother's this weekend ,. , wishing I was elsewhere. Well, not completely. I kind of like it. My mother cares, just not in the way my mum does. She respects my want for peace and leaves me be.
I think about how I could pass away and nobody notice for a while, then I realise how unrealistic it is. I believe it's night now but what do I care. Unlikely I'll sleep anyway. I spend all my nightly hours awake, drifting between false realities and the real one. I find it hard to differentiate between day and night because my room is extremely darkened due to my lack of on lights and the blacked-out blinds I keep closed. In addition, I don't check the time and whenever my mother comes in, I fake being asleep to avoid conversation which means she doesn't bring outside light into my room. I begin to drift off to a fake life.
Someone is knocking at my door. I don't reply and go back to my non-real sleeping. They're coming in I think? I can hear footsteps drawing near and wish for them to go away. They aren't.
"Nic?" I can't place whose voice it is but they calling my name. I don't reply
"Nic." They're sterner now. Even closer too.
"Nicole." It's my mum. I can tell now. Why is she here? I'm at my mother's house. It's not her week.
"Nicole?" I can feel her sat on the bed now. This lead me to sit up, making eye contact with her.
"mhm..?" I feel like I sound odd but I'm not really sure.
My eyes adjust to the light I haven't seen for almost a week and notice Lucas and my mother are here now. Looking at me. With some strange look a mix of concern and caution.
"We need to tell you something." My mother isn't wasting time. I nod, rubbing my eyes because it's hurting to keep them open after not seeing daylight for a bit.
"It's about Lucas."
Perfect *family*.
Oh shit. Has his worsening drug problem finally caught up to him? Has he gotten in a car and driven it into a tree like Jamie Richards a couple years ago? Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
"He's gone to rehab." Gone? Surely he didn't go without me saying goodbye?
"When?"
"Tuesday."
I reach for my phone and switch it on, already swarmed with messages and missed calls.
It is Tuesday.
The 23rd.
Break should've finished on the 21st.
Why the fuck am I still here and not at school?
"Why didn't you tell me?! Why didn't he say goodbye to me?!"
"It was one of them ones where they take you in the night. He wouldn't of gone otherwise."
What. The. Fuck.
"Why haven't you made me go to school?"
"We thought we should give you some time. After everything."
Timetimetimetimetimetime.
"You were asleep when we came in and we didn't want to wake you."
'Asleep'
I don't know why I'm crying but I am. My mum wraps her arms round me as I weep and I cuddle up against her. I can feel my mother's presence in the room yet she doesn't make any effort to console me like my mum. She holds me tight, an effort to silence my sobs which eventually works. My mother however, remains in the room, not moved from her spot before. Unaffectionate.
I don't hate my mother for her behaviour towards me because, nobody starts out an uncaring person, do they? Something truly bad must've happened for someone to act this way. According to my uncle, she used to be much different, caring, affectionate and sincere. I don't understand why she acts the way she does but I accept it, because what else can I do? I have 1 great fucking mum so I should be grateful, appreciative. I am. I really am. Yet, I can't help myself wondering how different life could've been if she never changed.
Dinner is a picture of scraping forks and puffy eyes. Anything anybody says is answered rapidly, everyone wanting to get back to the silence. It's shit. I get a feeling dinner will be like this from now on, a certain someone's presence gone meaning dinner is now quiet. I hate it. I wish I could go back. To well, before. Before today. Before the break. Before Lucas' crippling problems spiralled. Before everything. Back when my whole life was fake, but hey, at least everything felt alright.
Perfect *family*.
I cant bear it anymore. The silence is deafening. I scrape my chair against the floor , taking my plate and dumping it in the sink before retreating to my room. On a normal occasion, my 'behaviour' would cause outcry, yet I think the circumstances lead them to ignore it. I wonder how much I could get away with at the present moment. To be honest though, I don't want to do anything right now. I just want to lie down and go to sleep. If I never wake up, who cares, not me, I won't be there to care.
As much as I've hated Lucas' drinking and doing drugs lately, I'd do anything for him to be here. Laughing about the fact the tension at dinner could've been cut with a knife, or just laying here, not saying anything, just being there. I wish he was here. But he isn't, and he probably won't won't be for a while.
Somehow I do sleep, properly. For the first time in a bit. In my dream everything is different. My parents are still together. However it's not like before, because they're actually in love. They're happy. My brother's there too, sat on a stool in the kitchen. My mum's telling a joke and he's laughing. Really laughing. It's normal. It feels so real. I just want to hug my brother. My arms , I wrap them around him-
I fall through him. I shout his name. He doesn't turn his head or anything. It's like I'm not really there. I keep calling out his name until I wake up, sweating and tangled in my bedsheets. Yet, for some reason this exact moment is when I decide I can't stay inside any longer.