The silence to follow was wierd .
I grew up in noise . Wether it be the chattering of my father with his Polish friends or the impact of his fist on my mother's face . All that noise helped to distract me from the paper-walls of this house that aimed to envelope me in thoughts I knew , if I strayed too near to would end all my built-up lies .
Getting up from the dining table , seeing as breakfast was no more interesting , I made my way to the bathroom , right across the hallway .
The silence making my every step audible , the thinning carpet not much help to muffle the hurry in which I go , stained with beer , sweat and blood that couldn't be washed out from the years of "love" demonstrated .
The only witness of my mother's pain would be our brown tinted thin carpet , not really the best to give a testimonial in court .
I quickly entered and shut the door . Making sure it was loud enough for my uncle to get the memo , 'I don't need your company ' , not in these small four walls .
Once sure of no incoming footsteps, I lock the door , letting the sterile scent of the freshly cleaned bathroom calm me . I look to the mirror.
My face was a mess .
Depression in the living flesh .
I had purple eyebags from staying up late at night and my curls were in disarray, splaying everywhere onto my face , my freckles an ugly mess , dotting across the expansion of my face. My eyes , the typical American blue , if not a bit more brighter with a cold light. My hair an outstanding ginger colour , " like autumn! " , my father would say .
Its his favourite season .
Another reason he married my ginger-hair mother . He'd made jokes about doing all-night prayers in hopes I'd inherit it .
Always bragging , " you're eyes and ginger hair will make you one fine man!"
Another one of the things my father sought to impose his controlling nature on.....his wife and how his children would look .
A cruel joke between the two .
God .
Who so happened to adore my fathers Christian faith even added in freckles to top the look . How happy he was to hold me when I was born , or so I'm told by my aunt's .
Apparently I was his little strawberry, red hair , freckles and a scrunched up face , that every newborn has when crying.
' His perfect heir. '
I quickly look down . If I stare any longer ,I'll stop seeing my mother and start seeing my father more .
I wash my hands and flush the toilet , even if I didn't use it . I glance one last time at my reflection, only seeing his heir .......not his son .
Turning the tap to a close , I move to open the door , seeing my uncle in my peripheral vision. Back against the wall and arms folded in front of his chest .
He's frown says he's been waiting for for some time now .
Why ?
" What do you want ?" I say bluntly , leaving no room for politeness , were not close and he knows it . I won't spend more time on him than needed .
" Perfect boy with a pretty mouth but the words he always says are rubbish ? Don't think you're dad would appreciate hearing that ." He says getting off the wall and approaching me , his lips in an ugly pout.
Another jab at my masculinity. At some point you get tired of explaining yourself to the same person everytime .
Plus , it's a well known fact in the family he's just jealous of my looks.....I hope .
Because if it's not jealousy, God forbid I have another reason to commit suicide .
Then again , his sons, my cousin's , honestly with no offense to them , are quite 'plain' looking .
" Sorry , you don't have the same looks ." I throw back .
" Tsk..." , " you're father's calling you to the car . Time for a school with Daddy , little boy ." He mocks , whispering his last words near my ear. His breath carrying a horrible stench .
He moves , heading back to the dining room .
" Thanks for reporting." Like the little loyal dog you are . I say , keeping the rest to myself .
My uncle , had been the stereotypical jock in highschool, well maintaining his muscle mass into his older years . I'd be stupid to try instigate a fight .
It's too early for me to be reconsidering my life now .
Gathering all my non-existant courage , I grab my bag and my father's unfinished waffles, hopefully he sees my sincerity for his health , which in turn appease his anger .
And maybe .
Maybe ?
Make our talk more pleasant.
___________________________________________
Hey guys 🥰
Pls follow me .
I feel like my stories aren't up to par when you don't like them and it's quite discouraging 😭, and makes me not update because I could be doing other things . Pls like 🙏✨
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡccqUOcP4sE
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡchq4a0Q7du
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYtK0Wy736M
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRTCKkm3Hxr
and then Add to home screen.