Chapter Text
The light was barely even there anymore. It only remained as a misty stream of pale grey which flickered limply through the tightly shuttered windows. Emptiness and dense misery filled the room but avoided the space taken up by the at-home hospital bed. The one we rented from the medical wing and set up in our dining room so that mum can be at home with us. Because dad couldn't stand not having her with us, I remember him explaining that it was so she didn't have to live off mushy hospital meals and processed air, so she could stay at home with us and tell me to go to bed and brush my teeth. The bed was a weak and rickety piece of equipment and looked as if it could collapse at any moment. Upon it lay a body shrouded in peace. My father's face looked drawn and pained as he sat beside the bed, my mother's limp hand grasped in his. The sweet doctor lady spoke to him in a gentle, cautious voice. She started shaking her head sadly.
I was sitting on the drooping brown fabric lounge which smelt like mothballs when the nurse softly declared my mother to be dead. She apologized to my father in a professional manner and spared me a pitiful glance before announcing that she'll give us a moment and leaving the room.
Standing, I approached the foot of the bed slowly and examined how mum lay there so... so blatantly dead. Her once glowing skin was a cold, dull grey against the yellow blanket draped over her breathless body. Her pretty, flowing brown hair which was always light and soft like silk was plastered greasily to her hollowed-out face. Her face which had an endless supply of bright smiles and twinkling eyes was twisted into a permanent expression of sickly sorrow. The memory of her wind chime laugh echoed through the silent room. It puzzles me still how someone so lively, so happy, so cheery, so damn bright could ever die. It just seemed impossible, even with her months of treatment and scary decline in health, for someone like her to die. She had so much life that I'd denied that it would be possible for all of it to be taken away from her. She'd smiled all the way to the end. She would refuse to stop smiling for me, refused to show the pain and sorrow that was eating her soul from the inside. My mind twisted with the fact that his body was empty, that she wasn't there anymore, that she was gone, that she'd been taken from us.
The living world was covered in a thick film of despair. Like heavy dust, it's choking and lands around the room darkly. Everything had begun to dull since mum got sick, it was just small things, to begin with, but slowly she began to fade and the world faded with her. Smiles that were once careless became weak and sometimes her eyes wouldn't know you. Sometimes she wouldn't even see you at all, she'd just stare blankly through you as if you weren't there. A flashback of before dances around my imagination, a memory of getting sidetracked by mum's goofy games amidst practising catch with dad. The bright sun is beaming on down at our little tight-knit family through the thin branches of the autumnal trees, watching us as we roll around together on the soft green grass of our hedged front garden passing out smiles and spontaneous tickle fights as if they had no limit. My parents once gave the softest, meaningful and most perfect hugs and kisses as if they would never run out as if they had all the time in the world. Together they would take turns in picking me up off my feet and spinning me around as if I were flying, weightless and free, like a rocket ship flying far away from any earthly troubles. Before the memory could even get me thinking about smiling sadly, I was crashing back down to reality. Falling through the layers and layers of what used to be and of what could have been before smashing back into the cold, hard cement of what had been left.
My sadness had exceeded tears as I remained standing there in guttered disbelief. The mood was like that of a shocking revelation; tense, quiet and deeply morbid, heavy with sorrow and gut-twisting suspense of what was going to happen next. How would life continue without her? How would the world keep turning? Josh comes up behind me, taking me around the shoulder and holding me against his side. I turn to him and bury my face into his shoulder, a small collection of burning tears falling quietly from my eyes, which remain unfocused, unable to truly see what's going on, just a blurry, far away, out of body view of what was going on. Josh holds me tightly, hand running over my hair comfortingly, he doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to and I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful we can understand each other without words. Because there simply are no words for moments like these.
****
My father was never the same. From that day forth he was rarely ever home and if he was, he would remain distant and blank. Sometimes he would come home in a storm and he would yell and drink and curse, throwing his dark presence around the house like a death threat. At the moment he was sitting gloomily at the dining table, drinking from a crystal class of strong smelling rum. The house was deathly silent even with Josh speaking quietly by my side. Books and papers and pencils lay neatly across the table as I worked on my grade four spelling homework. I was always terrible at spelling, I think it must have been a pronunciation or hearing issue. Luckily Josh was always there to help out when I was stuck. He's a whole year older than me and really smart and good at being patient and practically an expert at explaining things clearly.
"How do you say spefiffic?" I try, pointing to the paper in front of me.
Josh giggles lightly from where he's leaning over my shoulder, his voice hovering near my ear. "It's spec-if-ic."
"How the fucking hell am I supposed to know kid?" Dad growls over the top of Josh, glaring at me spitefully "And why don't you bloody know? Do you know how much I have to work my ass off to keep you in school? I put a shitload of effort into providing you with the best possible opportunities and I bet you couldn't even write your own name you little shit! You're a waste of bloody time and effort you know that?" He jolts to his feet and hurtled the glass from his hand and into the room opposing wall, smashing in a sharp sounding explosion of shattering glass and dripping dark amber liquid. I flinch, dragging a heavy line into my paper and snapping the tip-off of my pencil. Josh reaches forward and takes my hand "I'm doing my very best to raise you Tyler! And what the fuck do you give back for it? It's about time you learnt to pull your own miserably pathetic weight around here!" Josh tugs at my hand, pulling me from my seat and dragging me out of the room away from the poisonous snarling words pouring out of my father's mouth. The world shrunk and faded away around me as oxygen seemed to become unobtainable, my throat ached as tears welled up in my eyes and sobs pent up in my chest.
Whenever my dad was like this, Josh and I would huddle together in the back garden or in the small, squishy cupboard in my room where he would tell me about the wacky dreams he had had the night before, which would send us both into a spluttering spiral of desperately withheld laughter, whispering and laughing by the dim touch light until the coast was clear.
I follow the lead of Josh's secure grip blindly as he weaves us through the house and out the sliding screen door leading to the back yard. He bustles me beneath the trampoline on the secluded and overgrown corner of the garden, sitting together on the waterproof tarp which now permanently lay there. We sat facing each other and he shares a small smile, his rounded teeth flashing out between his lips, I can feel myself smile weakly in return trying not to hear the colourful curses muttering from inside, doors slamming and the sound of more glass breaking. The smile shivered from my lips as I fall forward and cling to Josh, pressing my face into his warm shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Ty" He whispers, holding me tightly as a gasped and sobbed into his shirt, the anxious pressure in my chest getting too much to withhold. Every crash and yell set me on more of an edge until I hear the sweet sound of the car tearing out from the driveway, I feel myself relax with a shuddering exhale of pent up breath and emotion, flowing tears running down my face as a shake in Josh's arms.
Gradually I regain a steady breath, gulping in the air deeply and exhaling slowly, Josh holds me tightly and circles calming patterns on my back. After a few silent moments, Josh loosens his arms from around me and holds me by the shoulders, gently tilting my head up to look him in the eye. "You hungry?" He asks softly. I can feel my eyelids drooping closed tiredly but none the less I nod back at him eagerly. "Come on inside then, I'll make you some food." He urges, taking me by the hands and pulling me up from underneath the damp trampoline and back towards the house.
We sneak back inside, hands clasped together, and make our way to the dinky old style kitchen. Josh props me up onto the bench as he turns to look through the pantry and fridge "Okie dokie soo.... we've got pasta?" He looks over to me questioningly, his face falling into a concerned frown "Hm I dunno you look pretty tired buddy, maybe I could just make you a sandwich or something then you can go straight to bed, how about that?"
I'm fairly sure I manage to nod back at him because he starts putting together a simple ham, lettuce and tomato sandwich, setting it beside me with a soft clink of the ceramic plate on the marble table top. I mumble a small 'thank you' and pick up one of the sandwich triangles and munch into it carefully.
Josh keeps an eye on me as he slowly moves around the kitchen, cleaning the bench and returning the ingredients to their rightful places. I gobble down most of the sandwich avoiding the crusts like the plague and leaving them laying alone on the plate, setting it down beside him.
Josh gives me a small smile as a yawn deeply "Tired?"
"Yup."
He reaches out and hauls me from the bench, helping to steady my footing on the ground "Come on." His hand is warm and reliant as he walks with me to my room, flicking the warmly coloured lamp on and letting the waxy yellow light swarm around the room. Dark shadows wallow in the corners and I eye them cautiously as Josh makes a move to tug my school sweater off "At least change into your pyjama top." He persuades, folding my sweater over my desk and passing me a loose green and black UFO shirt. I stare down at it in my hands feeling empty and exhausted. Completely zoned out, I jump slightly when Josh starts unbuttoning my sky blue school shirt "Arms up, buddy." He hums, sliding the shirt off over my head, throwing it to the floor and stretching my UFO shirt over my head, leaving me to stick my arms through with an affectionate ruffle of my hair. I let myself fall into the pillow and Josh scoops my legs under the cover and pulls the blankets over me. "Goodnight Ty." He farewells, kissing my forehead lightly and stepping away.
"Please don't leave me alone with the shadows Josh, they always scream at me in the night. Please stay with me." I plead. He should know to stay by now, I always ask and he always stays but it hurts me to think that he'd just leave if I didn't convince him to do otherwise.
Josh smiles kindly, his eyes glinting sadly in the dim yellowing light. "Of course I'll stay with you." He breaths softly, climbing into the narrow single bed beside me and tucking the covers up under our necks. Slinging his arms around my waist, he pulls me to his chest and I curl myself up in the secure cage of his arms and let myself doze off peacefully to the soft rise and fall of his chest.