2.06 – Aftermath

The weeks following Farrow’s death pass slowly, to the point where, some days, time itself seems to stand still. The days after I returned home from Starlight Shores, and the day of Farrow’s funeral, are a blur. If I try to hold that day in memory, or if I strain to think about it, all I see is darkness.

Jed came. I remember that much. I remember him gripping onto my elbow as they lowered the coffin into the ground, as though he was afraid I would jump in after it. I remember him taking away the drink I had in my hand when he had deemed I’d had enough. I remember the expression on his face when I screamed at the stars.

Most of all, I remember the feel of his arms around me, the way he held me together as my whole world fell apart.

* * *

About a month after the funeral, I celebrate my eighteenth birthday. Well, I say ‘celebrate’.

I am actually hidden away in the Riverview Library, working on a report to impress my new bosses when I officially start at Doo Peas next week. I have been going into the office most days, though I’m not getting paid for it yet, and have been searching through old files for any topic that sparks my interest.

So far, no luck.

I have, however, found some fascinating information about tax returns (not), so I thought I’d write a report on how the company can save some money. Companies always want to do that, right?

I know my family and Jed will be mad that I’m determinedly hiding here on my birthday, but I don’t care.

The past week, today’s all Mum’s been able to talk about, although her painted on smile seems to be cracking. Yesterday morning, I found her in Heidi’s old room, her face buried in the stuffed bear Farrow had owned as a child. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. I wanted to comfort her, to say something to ease her pain, but there was nothing. I felt as though I had intruded on a private moment, a snatched snippet of time  when she did not have to remain strong for my father. For us. I slipped away as silent as a ghost.

Later, whilst I watched my father scrub plates until his hands were raw and bleeding, I wished I had at at least managed a hug.

I felt hollow. I was dust.

Mum seems to believe that my eighteenth birthday will be the glue that can hold together our crumbling family.

But honestly?

Sometimes I just want to let it crumble.

The words on the screen are beginning to swim. I press my knuckles against my eyes with a groan.

“Working hard?”

I start at Jed’s voice and whip around to face him. A guilty lump settles in the bottom of my stomach.

“You found me.” My voice sounds strangely flat, even to my ears; Jed frowns, but doesn’t mention it.

“It’s your birthday, Elery. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Not everyone.”

Jed scrubs a hand over his face, barely holding back a sigh. “I know, but he wouldn’t want you to miss out on your birthday. Would he?”

I think about this.

Jed’s right, really. To Farrow, birthdays were always a big deal. Something to celebrate with a bang, with streamers and balloons and brightly-wrapped presents.

They were certainly not days on which to work.

A long, low sigh escapes me as all of my resistance trickles away.

“All right,” I say. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Jed does not seem to trust that I won’t escape, as he maintains a tight grip on my elbow the whole way home.

I don’t really know what I was expecting when we walked through the front door. Mum and Dad sitting at the kitchen table with a sadly-wilting birthday cake in the centre. Heidi trying to rouse everyone for a game of musical statues, her smile strained and eyes red and swollen.

But that’s not what I see.

Jed (or someone, but I’m betting Jed) has managed to get hold of my friends from the Henry Whitestable Institute, and Jack, Oakley and Alistair are sprawled in my living room like they’ve always belonged there. Heidi is perched on the sofa next to Jack, twisting a strand of her hair around one finger and laughing at everything he says. It takes me a moment to realise that she’s flirting, and that’s only because Jed nudges me with his elbow.

Mum is bustling around the kitchen, seemingly filled with a new purpose. The table is heaving under its load of party food: warm sausage rolls, mini chipolatas, fairy cakes with sprinkles, mini doughnuts, mini quiches, pineapple and cheese cubes, and more.

My father is nowhere to be seen, but that’s nothing unusual.

I look around, taking it all in, and, suddenly, I feel like crying.

“What is all this?” My voice breaks on the final word, but I try to cover it with a cough.

My mum’s smile is genuine, the first in what seems like forever.

“It’s your eighteenth birthday, sweetheart. We all wanted to make it special.”

I look around at my friends, speechless. Oakley raises an eyebrow at me from across the room.

“Plus, you know, you haven’t been returning our calls.”

My cheeks flush with heat.

“I – I’m sorry, I’ve been-“

“Never mind that now,” Alistair says, with a Look at Oakley. “We’re just happy to see you, Elery. We’ve all been worried.”

There’s so much I want to say, but all I can manage is, “Thank you.”

It’s hard at first, but soon enough I begin to enjoy myself.

In honour of the occasion, Mum had bought alcohol, though she did warn us that being able to legally drink did not mean it was okay to get totally smashed. She needn’t have worried on my account as, although I did manage to become pleasantly tipsy, I did not much enjoy the taste.

Jed seems to be getting on well with the other guys, which eases my mind. I had been worried that he would disapprove of them, or that they just wouldn’t like each other, which could have been awkward.

But, thankfully, I needn’t have worried. Jed and Oakley soon become involved in a deep, passionate discussion about books, some of which I’d never even heard of.

At some point, Jack gets out his guitar (he never goes anywhere without it) and begins playing a whole host of popular songs (though tactfully avoids any hits by Jabberwocky). He even leads everyone in a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’, goading them to sing louder and louder until I just want to melt into the floorboards with embarrassment.

I don’t have a proper cake, as I was adamant to Mum that I didn’t want one, but one of the fairy cakes has a little candle in and I blow it out to cheers and wolf-whistles.

Then, after that, Alistair insists it’s time for presents.

Alistair, Jack and Oakley have, between them, bought me my very own games console and a couple of the latest, most popular games. Mum, predictably, starts to fuss about how expensive it must have been, but the three of them just laugh and reassure her that it’s no big deal.

For a moment, I feel embarrassed for my family’s obvious lack of money compared to my friends’, but their smiles are so wide, so eager to please, that I find myself smiling back. They didn’t think about the money – it probably didn’t even occur to them. All they were thinking about was my happiness, and I realise how lucky I am to have such good friends.

Jed’s present is more modest, but no less amazing.

He has bought me a box set of classic novels he is always bugging me to read. Once I have unwrapped them, he grins at me.

“You’re a big boy, now. You can handle them.”

I stick my tongue out at him in response, but then just hug him tight. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t forgiven me.

Heidi gives me a brightly-coloured scarf she has knitted herself, and a tight hug. I give her a smile when she lets me go, and she looks as though she’s going to cry. Thankfully, she doesn’t; she just gives me a little nod and moves away. I notice that Jack takes her hand in his when she stands beside him.

Mum gives me an envelope with fifty pounds in it, just as she had with my brother and sister before me, before she too enfolds me in a hug.

“This is from your father and me,” she says. “Spend it how you want, but once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

I nod, and give her an extra tight hug. Mum gives me a wan smile, but I can’t help but notice the way her eyes flick to her and Dad’s closed bedroom door.

For a moment, I wish my father was normal.

Then I smile, forget about him, and turn back to my friends.

* * *

Later, when everyone else has gone home, my father makes an appearance.

He hovers at the top of the stairs, clutching something behind his back. I look away and do my best to ignore him, still stung that he didn’t bother to come out his room whilst my friends were here. He doesn’t speak, but stands there in absolute silence, shifting slowly from foot to foot.

Soon, I can’t stand it any longer.

“What do you want, Dad?”

There’s a loud clunking sound, and my father says, “Happy birthday, Elery.”

Curious, I glance around. A bowl of soil is sitting beside my bed and, as far as I can see, there is nothing in it.

“Um… thank you, Dad.”

My father sits on the edge of my bed, his gaze on the bowl of dirt. “It’s a grape vine.”

I look back at the soil to see if there is perhaps a sprig of greenery I have missed, but nope. Just dirt.

“I don’t see it.”

“You have to wait. I only planted the seeds this afternoon.”

Realisation dawns. I struggle to remember if I’ve ever shown an interest in gardening, but draw a blank.

“It’s to help you remember,” my father says, and I stare at him.

“Remember what?”

“That life goes on.”

I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. His words are like a punch to the stomach. Tears prick the corners of my eyes.

I’ve been selfish. So selfish.

I lost my brother, sure, but my parents have also lost their son.

My father stands, before pausing. He fumbles for a moment in his pocket, before turning to face me. There are deep lines on his face that I never noticed before, and dark smudges under his eyes.

“There’s also this.” He holds out a crumpled envelope, his fingers trembling. “They found it amongst his things.”

I shuffle to the edge of the bed and take it from him, then smooth it out on my lap. Familiar, spiky writing stares up at me.

‘Elery. Happy 18th.’

His name escapes in a rush of air. “Farrow.”

My father remains where he is. He is staring unseeingly out of the window, his face pale and strained. He looks so unbearably miserable that all my anger at him evaporates as if it was never there.

I put the envelope carefully on my pillow and get to my feet, hesitating.

Then, without a word, I put my arms around my father, wanting to make all of his pain go away. He remains stiff in my hold for a long while, so long that I think about pulling away, but, just as I am about to, he relaxes. Sags, almost.

“Dad?”

“I should be holding you,” is all he says.

I don’t reply, but press my face into the soft fabric of his jumper. He smells like damp earth and freshly cut grass, the scents I have always associated with my father. I close my eyes and tighten my arms around him, trying to ignore how thin he has become.

After a time, he turns and wraps me in his arms. It’s an awkward, tentative hug, but he rests his cheek on my hair the way he used to when I was small.

For a moment, I allow myself to be comforted.

Just for a moment.

* * *

Later, when I’m alone, I hold the envelope in my hands – tentatively, as if it is a bomb wired to explode.

I am terrified of the contents, of what Farrow has to say to me from beyond the grave. Is it a letter? A photograph? Just a cheerful birthday card bought long in advance?

I wonder what would be worse.

I slide my fingernail slowly under the flap of the envelope, peeling it open, breath held. Blood pounds in my ears as I carefully fish out a folded scrap of paper. The black scrawl of Farrow’s handwriting covers both sides, words curling around the margins and crammed into the corners.

Hands shaking, I unfold the paper.

Elery,

I hope this letter finds you well. Happy birthday, little brother. I’m sorry I’m not there to see it.

I close my eyes for a moment, head spinning. My breath seems stuck in my throat, my chest tight. Was I wrong? Did Farrow plan this?

I force myself to open my eyes and keep reading.

I’m sorry for before, about everything I said. We never really worked things out properly, did we? You know, despite everything I did or said or whatever, I’m proud of you. I don’t know how you got up in the morning sometimes. I couldn’t if I was you, but maybe you’re just a stronger person.

I know you are.

After all, here’s me, checking out of life early. And there’s you, still here. There. Wherever.

I’m sorry, Elery. You won’t understand. You can’t understand. You don’t have any memories of before, back when we had more than a shell of a father.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t his fault. This is nobody’s fault.

I’m going crazy, Elery. I’m going crazy and I don’t want to end up like him. I want to go out on a high, riding the concert adrenaline all the way to the muzzle of a gun. I want to be known as young and reckless and the one who died before his time, not some old mumbling fool who wakes screaming in the night.

I’m going crazy. I’m seeing things. Hearing things. I wake in the night, covered in sweat, screams echoing in my ears.

I’m not going to be remembered for that, Elery. No way. Don’t tell anyone, all right? I just wanted someone to know the truth, and I know I can trust you.

Remember that I love you, and I’m proud of you.

Farrow x

PS. He says you can see him too.

My heartbeat sputters.

Oh, God.

I crumple the letter in my fist and fling it from me. It hits the wall and then the floor, just an innocuous ball of paper.

Oh, God.

My chest constricts so tightly I feel as though I will never be able to breathe again. What the hell had Farrow been talking about? He couldn’t have been talking about him – surely not?

Oh, God.

I scramble off the bed and thud to my knees, snatching the paper up again. I can’t let anyone find it.

I shove the letter into my cupboard and slam it shut. My breath comes in heavy, ragged gasps.

My fingers fumble with the lock.

Oh, God.

Everything is spinning, and there is a roaring in my ears. I stagger to the bed and fall down onto it, grabbing onto the sheets as though that will stop the world from heaving.

I screw my eyes shut tight, feeling sweat beading on my forehead and trickling down my temples.

Oh, God.

If only everything would stop moving for long enough for me to get to my phone.

Am I going crazy too?

* * *

I wake with a pounding, throbbing headache, and with my mouth as dry as dust. The first thing my eyes land on is the bowl of soil my father gave me, and the night before comes rushing back.

Farrow.

My stomach twists. I shut my eyes tight again and pray for the strength not to throw up.

When I open my eyes again, at least the world has stopped moving.

I get to my feet and head downstairs, still wearing my rumpled clothes from the day before. Mum’s sitting at the kitchen table peeling vegetables, but she turns and gives me a smile.

“So, big day Monday?”

I shrug and cross over to the fridge to fix myself some cereal. “Guess so.”

Mum’s smile quickly became a frown. “I thought you were looking forward to starting work.”

I attempt to smile at her, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I am. I’m just tired, Mum, don’t worry.”

I want to tell her about the letter from Farrow, to share my fears with her, but I’m too scared I’ll end up locked away. Like my father was.

A frisson of anger startles me, and I shut the fridge perhaps a little harder than needed. Mum doesn’t look convinced.

“If you need to talk, Elery -“

“I’m fine, Mum. Seriously.” The words come out harsher than intended, and I attempt to backpedal and soften them. “Thank you, by the way. For yesterday.”

Mum actually smiles at that. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

I nod, and then sit down at the table and begin to eat my cereal.

“What are you going to do today?” Mum asks. She’s stopped peeling vegetables and is watching me with some measure of concern.

I swallow my mouthful of cornflakes, poking my spoon at the remainder. “Library, probably.”

Mum picks up the vegetable peeler again. “You’ve been spending a lot of time there recently.”

“It’s for work, Mum.”

A carrot is waved in my direction. “Are you sure you aren’t seeing a girl?”

I practically inhale a mouthful of cornflakes. Mum leaps up and pats me on the back until I stop coughing.

“No, Mum! I’m writing a report on the company finances. I’d even show you if it wasn’t confidential.”

Mum – to my surprise – begins to laugh. “All right, all right. I believe you, Elery. But you should have seen your face.”

“Mu-um.”

Mum stops laughing, though she is still smiling as she says, “Gabe, come and join us.”

I swivel in my seat as my father comes out of the bedroom. Then, abruptly, I turn back to my cereal, stabbing at the cornflakes with my spoon. Seeing the tentative smile on his face has forced a swell of anger to rise in my chest.

It is all his fault.

“I don’t know how you can stand to smile.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

A shocked silence follows. I attempt to eat another mouthful of cereal, but the cornflakes stick in my throat and taste like cardboard. Gaze lowered, I shove back from the table and stalk over to the kitchen sink. I clatter my bowl and spoon altogether too loudly, but that isn’t enough to drown out my father’s soft, anxious voice.

“What to you mean, Elery?”

I know I should stop before this gets out of hand, but every word from his mouth is like a needle under my skin.

I try, though. I really try.

I clamp my teeth together and shake my head, once. My hands are clumsy as I wash up the breakfast things, hindered by my desire for a speedy escape.

As I lift my bowl to dump it on the draining board, I think I’ve got away with it.

But then, my father speaks again.

“Are you all right?”

Suddenly, the bowl is flying across the room. It hits the floor by my father’s feet, shattering into a hundred shards of white.

“It’s all your fault!”

Mum is on her feet in a flash, before I can draw breath to shout again.

“What on earth had got into you?” Her voice is a crazy mixture of angry and upset. “Don’t talk to your father like that!”

It is as though a dam has been breached. Words and feelings flood out of me with unrelenting force, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from slamming my father to the floor.

“It’s his fault Farrow’s dead! Everything’s his fault!”

“Maybe if he’d been a real dad none of this would have happened! Maybe if he hadn’t spent all that time locked in the fucking loony bin, Farrow wouldn’t have been so scared of going crazy!”

Farrow had told me not to tell, but I find I care little for his wishes. After all, he’s dead now. Nothing can hurt him.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have seen ghosts – just like you, Dad!”

The last word is tossed out like an insult, twisted and laced with poison. It rings loudly in the silence.

My breathing is ragged and laboured, as though I have just run a marathon. Instead of triumphant, however, I just feel sick at heart.

Mum is staring at me, open-mouthed, as if I have just sprouted an extra head. She seems to have lost the ability to speak.

And my father…

My father is cowering on the floor. Tremors wrack his too-thin shoulders, and he gasps for air like a man drowning.

It’s pathetic.

I did this.

I flee out of the door before anything else can be said.

* * *

Later that evening, I leave the library with my report for Doo Peas finished and polished to near-perfection. I feel calmer now.

Calmer, but drained.

I slip my hand into my pocket, curling my fingers around my phone. It’s been switched off all day, and I’m afraid of what I might receive when I turn it on.

Ten missed calls from my mother? Twenty? One hundred?

None at all?

As soon as I switch it on, a message flashes up.

One missed call from Home.

Not as bad as I was expecting.

I dial voice mail, expecting anger. A tirade.

What I hear is much worse.

“Elery, I’ve had to take your father to the hospital. They’re thinking of admitting him to the home for a while.” Mum’s voice is tired. Resigned. “I won’t be back tonight.“

End of message. A dial tone.

Then, silence.

2.05 – Reflections

A/N: It’s been a while! Firstly, Australia was amazing, but I couldn’t get anything sim-related done at all!! Things have also been a bit hectic around here with the birth of my new baby brother, Scott, and me getting a job, so I’m sorry for the wait. Oh, and my laptop died the week I got home so I had to save up, buy a new one and then reinstall sims and deal with all my cc and everything. *_* Madness.

Hope you enjoy the chapter! :D

Jed,

I’ve arrived in Starlight Shores safely. I know you’re still mad at me about the whole Charity disaster (and I know I deserve it), but hey. You’re my best friend, and I miss you already!

The boarding school Doo Peas has sent me to – AKA the Henry Whitestable Institute – is a bit like a really posh manor house. You know, English country house kind of thing. It has sweeping lawns, trimmed border hedges and flowerbeds that explode with a riot of colour. (I was bored and read the brochure in the car on the way up.)

Inside the school is just as posh, with an entrance hall and a grand staircase and even a chandelier. I feel as though I’ve stepped back in time at least a hundred years. According to a plaque beside the main entrance the school was established in 1846, so I reckon not much has changed since then. But hey, you’ll be pleased to know it has both electricity and running hot water, so I won’t freeze to death.

It’s really unlike any school I’ve ever been to. There are only forty boys here (yes, it’s an all-boys school) and we sleep in dorms of four. When the brochure mentioned dormitories, I got really excited because I thought it’d be kind of like Hogwarts, with the tower rooms and the four-poster beds, but it’s nowhere near that exciting. (Not to mention, we don’t learn magic and I’m not destined to defeat any sort of Dark Lord.)

The dorm, however, does come with a massive television, a gaming system (though that might belong to one of the others), a big bookcase, a desk and computer, and a chest of drawers. And, bunk beds! It’s like being small again and sharing with Farrow, seriously!

When I arrived, I was taken to the headmaster’s office, a Mr Henry Whitestable. (I assume not the original Henry Whitestable, but you never know.) He looked at me down the length of his nose and told me what an asset he thought I would be to the school, but he said it in a way that I knew he didn’t really mean what he was saying. From the look of the place, he’s used to getting boys from parents with more money than they know what to do with, not – well, me.

Despite the fact a large part of me doesn’t really want to be here, his attitude made me really want to succeed. I guess that’s a good thing.

I’m writing this whilst everyone else is at dinner. I don’t know what it is – nerves, I guess – but I really don’t have much of an appetite. I haven’t met the other members of my dorm yet; they were in lessons when I arrived and they went straight from them to dinner, so… I guess I’ll be meeting them soon.

I hope they like me.

Look after Charity for me,

Elery

* * *

Jed,

Your letter must have got lost in the post, because I haven’t heard from you. You can’t still be mad at me, can you? I told you I was sorry. How’s Charity doing? =[

School’s been keeping me busy. Even though I was getting kind of average marks back home, it seems that here I’m very behind. I often feel kind of stupid compared to everyone else, but I’m keeping my head down and working hard. You wouldn’t believe it if you saw me, Jed. I always seem to have my head in a book nowadays – maybe I’m turning into you!

Thankfully, I’ve made some friends here (though no one can replace you, don’t worry!). I felt like some sort of animal in a zoo the first few days, when everyone would be staring at me like I had two heads or something, but everyone soon got used to me. I was expecting some bullying for being, I don’t know, scarred or poor, but there hasn’t really been much. A few comments and ‘accidental’ shoves in the corridor, but it’s not like I’ve been cornered and beaten up. Just as well, really. You know I’m useless in a fight.

The three guys in my dorm seem to have adopted me into their group. I think it might have been a lot more difficult if they hadn’t accepted me, but… yeah, things seem to be going well.

Jonathan Beresford (known more often as Jack) is really awesome, and I think Farrow would get on great with him. He’s really into music, but his father owns this huge company (I think they deal with home improvements) and he’s pushing Jack to get involved, which is why he’s hear at business school. Sometimes in the evening he plays his guitar and, for a while, I feel less homesick.

Oakley Newhaven is the son of a lord, and I was quite intimidated when I was first introduced to him. I needn’t have worried, because he’s one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. He helps me a lot with my homework, as I’m rather behind all these other boys who went to public school. I’m catching up, though. I even got top mark in the class the other day (though some of the credit should probably go to Oakley…)!

Alistair d’Vair is from a rich French family, but he can speak English as fluently as if he was born here. If it wasn’t for the slight accent, I never would have realised! He was the first person here to decide to take me under his wing, and ended up following me around for the whole day before I would take the hint that he might want to be friends (I thought he might have ill intentions so kept hiding from him, I’m ashamed to say)!

None of them can replace you, of course, Jed, as I already said. I really wish you were here. It’d be so much easier to get through this.

Elery

* * *

Jed,

Thank you for the letter, and thank you even more so for forgiving me. I was so stupid, but I’m glad I don’t have to lose you as well as Charity. I’m also glad that Charity seems to be moving on from me, even though she called me, well… you’re a braver man than I to write down those words where anyone could see them! Make sure this Derek person treats her right, okay?

Everything is fine here. I’m happy.

Elery

* * *

Dear Jed,

Lately I’ve been having these dreams.

They start out ordinary enough, but soon I become aware of being followed. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I start to notice this man everywhere I look.

I’ve never seen him before in my life!

I wonder what it means. Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything at all.

What do you think?

Elery

* * *

Jed,

It’s been a while since I last wrote. School has been overwhelmingly hectic. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many essays to write all in one go! I swear my eyes are going to start to bleed from overuse; I already have blistered fingers. Cry forever.

Today is a day off. We’re supposed to be revising for upcoming end of year exams, but we’re all lazing around by the school pond. I can’t believe this year has gone so quickly!

I’m sorry to hear about Charity breaking up with Derek. I know it sounds kind of lame coming from me, but I genuinely wanted her to be happy, you know?

Do you think she’d write back if I sent her a letter?

What have you been up to? How’s the revision coming along?

Elery

* * *

Dear Charity,

Perhaps I’m being a bit presumptuous, writing to you like this, but I’m fed up with acting like a schoolboy and trying to tell you things through Jed. I was the biggest idiot in the world when I broke up with you, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to realise that.

I’ll understand if you never forgive me.

All my love,

Elery

* * *

Jed,

Exams are over! We’re freeeeeee!

Should be home in a few weeks, when results have come in and I know whether or not I have to stay for another year (pleasegodno)! Looking forward to seeing you, Jed!!

How did you do? I’m sure you’ve done fine, don’t worry! :)

Elery

* * *

Dear Jed,

I will probably be home before you get this letter, since I’m writing this at the airport waiting for my flight. I don’t know if you’ve heard the news or not. Actually, I don’t see how you can’t have. It’s been all over television.

My brother is dead. Farrow is dead.

It hurts to write that.

According to the papers, Farrow and Jabberwocky did their best show yet – a really big one in one of Bridgeport’s most prestigious clubs. Then, whilst the rest of the band were celebrating, Farrow went back to their hotel and put a gun to his head.

That isn’t Farrow, Jed. He told me once that he would never be another Kurt Cobain, but look what happened! Why the fuck would he do this, Jed?! It doesn’t make any sense.

None of it makes sense.

The Farrow I know would never do that. Never. He was so HAPPY. He had just played the BEST SHOW OF HIS LIFE.

WHERE THE FUCK DOES SUICIDE COME INTO THAT?!

Please come to the funeral, Jed. I don’t think I can handle it without you.

Elery

2.04 – Someone Who Isn’t Me

A/N: Adult content warning, in case the one on the side of the page isn’t enough. :) Both for language and sexual situations.

Need to try and catch up on my inbox now. I have about 50 updates to read from the end of May onwards. *_*

By the next day, everything seems brighter.

My brother is going to Sunset Valley, where he might hit the big time and achieve everything he’s ever dreamt of. I have a date – well, ‘outing’ – with Charity, who’s probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever lain eyes on (don’t tell her I said that, she’d probably laugh at me) and maybe – just maybe – we’ll end the night as something more than friends.

On top of it all, I have a job. An actual, guaranteed job. Sure, it may not be anything I’ve wished for, or even thought of, but still… my stomach gets a little fluttery when I think about it. I can’t really tell if I’m excited or nervous, or some strange place in between.

“So,” I say, smoothing my hands nervously over the front of my shirt. “Definitely this one?”

Jed nods. “Definitely. It doesn’t look as though you’re trying too hard.”

I make a face at myself in the mirror. The sun is beginning to disappear behind the Riverview hills and, in the half-light, I don’t look too bad.

“I don’t know how I’m going to make it to this evening,” I admit. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

Jed pats me on the back.

“You said yourself this isn’t really a date.”

“But it might turn into one!”

“Look, Ri… she’s only Charity. You’ve known her since we were kids, and the evening suddenly becoming a date won’t make her turn into some terrifying hormonal monster.”

I glare at him.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you’d actually been on a date.”

Jed goes a rather startling shade of red.

“I’ll have you know I plan to ask Elisabeth out on Monday.” Absently, he messes up his hair with one hand, then smooths it back down again. “I mean, if I get her alone and there’s not a huge crowd watching.”

Feeling suddenly bad for snapping at him, I give him a weak smile. Jed is only trying to help.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit on edge.”

Jed rests a hand on my shoulder; its warm weight is comforting and I let out a breath I hadn’t even been aware I’d been holding.

“Look,” he said, meeting my gaze in the mirror. “You can do this. If it all starts to turn into a huge disaster, text me, and I’ll call you pretending to be your mum – some family emergency, all right? Then you can excuse yourself without totally ruining things.”

That small safety net – that way of salvaging things if the evening spirals out of my control – gives me the confidence to smile properly.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

***

Singalot Castle is crowded, despite Charity’s assurances to the contrary. I guess opening night must have gone better than expected.

No one takes any notice of me as I slip in the front door, and I glance around for Charity’s familiar form amongst the mass of dancing, grinding bodies. My chest tightens at the sight of the crowd, but I remind myself to breathe and push my way through.

I find Charity at a table in an out-of-the-way corner. She waves when she sees me, a grin splitting her face.

“You made it!”

I manage to grin back and slip into the seat beside her. “Of course I did.”

We order drinks, and spend the first half an hour or so just talking, commiserating about the lack of Jed and generally catching up. After all, a lot has happened on my end since we had seen each other last,  and Charity has got her dream job at the used book shop in town. Jed will be so jealous when he finds out.

It feels like a normal evening out, minus Jed. But, of course, it’s not a normal evening out, and my body doesn’t let me forget it. Even as I try to keep light conversation going, my palms are sweating. My heart thumps against my ribcage. My stomach flips over every time she smiles at me.

I hope she can’t tell how nervous I am by looking at me.

It takes a little while, but eventually we forget all about Jed not being there (sorry, Jed) and just start to relax in each other’s company. It’s about this time that I realise that Charity is just as nervous as I am.

“Want to go on the machines?” she asks, during a lull in our conversation. “There’s a couple free.”

I glance over at the karaoke machines on the other side of the bar. There is a crowd milling around, listening, but only one is actually in use. My heartbeat suddenly seems a lot louder in my ears.

“In front of all these people?”

Charity grins. “Of course. Did you expect your audience to turn their backs on you or something?”

I frown as I feel my cheeks heat. “No, I just…” I shut my mouth and glance over at the karaoke machines again. “Okay, let’s do it.”

We get some tokens from the bar. Charity tries to pay for hers, but I (rather smoothly, I feel) step in with a ten pound note before she can open her purse. She grins at me and, it might just be my imagination, but I swear I see a soft blush stain her cheeks.

“What song do you want to do?” she asks, leaning one arm on the bar and looking up at me.

I smile. “I know the perfect song.”

As the first beats of Bruno Mars’s ‘Just The Way You Are‘ resonate through the room, I see Charity’s eyes light up.

For some, such a song may seem cheesy, or cliché…

… but for us, on that night, it was perfect.

Because, as she stands there, singing beside me, the lyrics are truth. Charity is amazing, just the way she is.

After the song finishes, we head back to our table.

Something has imperceptibly shifted in the time we sang together, and we suddenly seem much more relaxed in each other’s company. As we talk, Charity touches my hand – brief, gentle touches, so fleeting that I’m not even sure they’re real. Warmth settles in the pit of my stomach and every word is accompanied by a smile.

We are so engrossed in each other that we do not notice the two boys until they are right beside us.

Charity sees them first, and smiles.

“Need something?” she says, sweetly. “Did you enjoy our song?”

I glance up, and then look back at the table, knuckles whitening where my fingers grip the edge. Strangers always make me feel nervous.

One of the boys grins, flashing teeth.

“Would’ve enjoyed it more if we didn’t have to look at that ugly face over there.”

My stomach tightens.

Just ignore them, says some strange combination of my mother’s and Jed’s voice in my head. Ignore them.

Charity, on the other hand, doesn’t take any advice from an imaginary Jed.

“If you feel like that, you can fuck right off. That’s my date you’re talking about.”

The other boy laughs.

“You’re dating that?” He laughs again. “No wonder all the good girls are taken – they’re all dating freaks.”

Charity rockets to her feet before I even have the chance to blink. In the next moment, the boy is reeling backwards from a well-placed punch to the face.

“Or maybe they’re just not dating jerks like you.”

“Fuck, mate, she just punched me!” Bright red blood splashes down over his mouth and chin to stain his t-shirt.

“Then hit her back!”

“She’s a girl!” The boy raises a hand to his face. “Shit, I think my nose is broken.”

Charity raises her fists as the other boy takes a step forward, her eyes like steel.

“If you don’t back off, I’ll hit you too. Seriously.”

It happens so fast it is over before I realise it. The boy Charity didn’t punch lunges forward and shoves her down onto the table.

“You shut your mouth, bitch.”

I don’t really know what happened next.

One moment, I’m sitting in my chair, watching this unfold, the next wrestling with the boy who had dared to put his hands on Charity. It is like a red mist has descended over my eyes, rage boiling up through every vein in my body.

“Keep your hands off her!”

Sadly, two against one never goes well. After the sudden surge of adrenaline and the element of surprise has faded, the boy’s friend comes to the rescue. Instead of fighting back, I curl up in a ball and try to protect my internal organs as best I can.

Never let it be said that I’m stupidly reckless. I know when I’m beaten.

It takes two bouncers and the bartender to drag the boys off me.

By this point, Charity is beside herself. She’s been held back by a couple of girls we know from school, who obviously only have her best interests at heart. I don’t think Charity sees it that way, however, as she continues to shout abuse at the two boys as they are dragged off by the bouncers.

I remain on the floor, my face pressed against the floorboards. Everything aches, and the deep thrum of the music resonates uncomfortably through my chest.

The bartender crouches down beside me, his expression grim.

“I’m going to have to ask you and your friend to leave,” he says. “We don’t need anyone causing trouble.”

I get to my feet, wiping blood off a swollen lip.

“Yes, sir.”

***

After the disaster at the karaoke club, part of me (the aching, cold, miserable part) just wants to call it a night and go home. The other part of me, fuelled by a mixture of adrenaline and bravado, wants to shout and run and jump and stay out all night.

Charity and I settle on a sedate walk down by the river. We walk without speaking, looking up at the stars and allowing the sounds of the night wash over us. The cool night air soothes my aching face, and the near-silence is welcome after the wildness of the club. She keeps close to my side, biting her lip every time she opens her mouth to talk.

When we stop to look out over the water, Charity’s hand slips into mine, squeezing my fingers.

“Thank you,” she says.

For a moment, I can’t concentrate on anything other than the fact she’s holding my hand. Eventually, I manage to ask, “What for?”

“For leaping to my rescue.”

“Well…” I feel my face glowing red, and have to look away from her. “You leapt to my rescue first, and all I managed to do was get beaten up.”

Charity grins, though her hand tightens on mine and I can tell she is still quite shaken up from the night’s events.

“Yes,” she says. “But you managed to be quite chivalrous in doing so.”

“Like a knight, you mean?”

Charity laughs. “Maybe a squire. Knights are meant to win.”

“Oh.”

I blink at her, unsure whether or not to be offended. Then, I catch her eyes with mine and suddenly everything seems hilarious – much more so than it probably should. Our spontaneous, out of control laughter shatters the stillness. A startled fox darts out from the underbrush and away into the darkness.

What does it matter that I have a bloody nose and a split lip? What does it matter if we got kicked out of Singalot Castle? We’re with each other, we’re both okay, and the boys who had annoyed us are probably worse off.

Charity grips my hand whilst we laugh and then suddenly, inexplicably, we’re kissing. Breathless, heat-filled kisses that make my head spin with stars. For a moment, the night falls away and there is nothing but the feel of her body against mine, the taste of her breath on my lips.

And then we’re on the ground, with no idea how we ended up there. Something about this night has flipped a switch in us, kicked our relationship up a notch.

The long grass tickles my neck as Charity kisses me again, and my elbow sinks into the soft dirt. Dew seeps through my clothes to my skin but it hardly matters. Every sense is overwhelmed with Charity. The feel of her hair against the skin of my cheek. The softness of her body pressed against mine. The rustle of her dress as she moves even closer.

I decide I rather like kissing her.

Her fingers close over my wrist and she gently guides my hand to rest against her breast. At this unexpected development, I freeze, feeling suddenly clumsy and unsure in my own body. Charity’s lips recede from mine.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “It’s just me.”

“Boob,” I say stupidly, and she lets out a snort of laughter.

“Okay, you’re definitely not thinking with your brain anymore.”

After a moment, she kisses me again, and something has changed. There is a desperate, reckless edge to her kisses now, and I can feel myself becoming swept under. She tightens her hand on mine, and I cautiously stroke my fingers over the fabric of her dress, feeling the alien swell of her breast. The curve of her bra.

Oh, my God.

I jerk my hand back as though I’ve been burned, and Charity pulls back to look into my eyes.

“What’s the matter?” she says, her voice as soft as a caress.

I cringe. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Charity smiles, and my breath catches in my throat as two cold hands slide up my chest under my t-shirt.

“Neither do I.”

“This is really awkward.”

“Elery, shut up and kiss me.”

I kiss her again, and this time she lets me lead. We kiss until I feel like I’m drowning in her, until every nerve in my body is singing and my trousers feel stupidly tight.

And then I’m above her, with my hands on her warm thighs under her dress.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, but this time I don’t want to stop.

Charity just smiles again and pulls me down.

***

When I told Jed what had happened between Charity and I that night, he was frantic. Didn’t he think we were rushing into things a little? Why hadn’t we at least used protection? He wasn’t ready to become Uncle Jed just yet.

I hadn’t even thought about it.

Thankfully, Jed was soon distracted by something else. About a week after Charity and I had our date, Jed worked up the courage to ask out Elisabeth Grey. Where we had been three, we became four.

On the outside, I am happy. Happy for Jed, happy that I have a beautiful girlfriend, but on the inside a gloom has descended.

I can’t get the words of those boys out of my head.

No wonder all the good girls are taken – they’re all dating freaks.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe she’s just dating me out of pity.

Maybe she deserves better.

***

About two weeks after my first date with Charity, a letter arrives that renders all of my dark thoughts obsolete.

“Elery!” Mum calls up the stairs. “Post!”

I am engrossed deeply in a homework assignment at this particular moment, so it takes me a few moments to register what she said. Then, I straighten in my chair, eyes wide.

I never get post.

I abandon my homework and trudge downstairs.

“What is it?” I ask, as Mum turns back to the washing up. “A bank statement?”

Mum shrugs. “It has the Doo Peas address on the back.”

Despite my determination to be happy about my future at Doo Peas, my blood runs cold. The letter, lying innocently in the middle of the table, suddenly seems dangerous.

I approach it gingerly, as though it is a bomb rigged to explode. Of course, nothing happens.

With trembling hands, I pick up the letter and tear it open. I have read it two times before the true meaning of the words begins to sink in.

“I have a place at an elite business school in Starlight Shores,” I tell Mum. My voice shakes. “According to this letter… I start next week.”

Mum turns, bubbles dripping from her washing up gloves onto the floor.

“Say that again?”

“I’m starting boarding school next week in Starlight Shores.”

Mum frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as the implication of my words hit her.

“How dare they do something like that without asking us!” When I don’t say anything, she fumes, “I have half a mind to call them up and tell them where to stick their boarding school.”

I cross the room and wrap my arms around her, resting my head on the safety of her shoulder.

“Mum, I don’t think I’ve got a choice, here.” I try to smile up at her and manage a grimace. “Besides, isn’t going to the Starlight Shores an amazing opportunity?”

Mum looks pained, evidently torn between staying strong for me and wanting to protect me.

“This isn’t what we wanted for you, Elery. We wanted you to forge your own path, not be dictated by this… this company.” She spits the word as though it is a rather nasty swear word.

I try to smile again, and this time I do a much better job.

“Don’t worry, Mum. No matter what happens, I will. I promise.”

***

Despite reassuring Mum that I was happy to comply with Doo Peas wishes and leave Riverview behind, really, I was terrified. I had never set foot outside Riverview in my life, except to visit Nanny and Grandad Moss in Meadow Glen.

On the other hand, it gives me a chance to release Charity so she can find someone who deserves her, who people won’t assume that she’s dating out of pity.

On the other other hand, I don’t want to lose her.

But I’ve got to give her that chance.

I arrange to meet Charity down by the river, in the same spot where we had spent the night together. In retrospect, this is a mistake. As I stand there waiting for her, I want nothing more than to stay with her forever.

But I’m moving so far away that it wouldn’t be fair not to give her a chance to date other guys.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.

“Elery!”

I turn at the sound of Charity’s voice, trying to ignore the fact that my heart is doing somersaults in my chest.

“Oh, hey.” I try to smile but fail.

Charity is instantly on her guard, her eyes wary.

“What’s wrong?”

I run my fingers through my hair, wishing that I’d thought more about what to say.

“I have to leave. To go to boarding school.”

Charity’s eyebrows raise in shock. “Why the hell are your parents sending you to boarding school?”

“It’s not like that,” I explain. “It’s Doo Peas.”

“For fuck’s sake, Elery, are you just going to let them push you around forever?”

I have been asking myself the same question.

“No, I just… I can make something of myself, Charity. I know I can.”

Charity forces a smile. “Well, we can just see each other on holidays, then, can’t we?”

My stomach slowly rolls over, but I say nothing. I don’t know what to say. Charity must read the answer in my eyes, as she suddenly takes a step back, hurt flickering across her face.

“You’re… breaking up with me?”

I make myself nod, even though every part of my body is screaming no, no, no.

“I think it’s for the best.”

“But why? Why can’t we make this work, Elery?”

I swallow slightly. “Those guys were right. You deserve someone much better than me.”

I expect her to cry, to protest or for her to run off. What I don’t expect is the fist that connects with the side of my face with an almighty crack. I sprawl on the ground in the dirt before I even realise what is happening. Warm blood drips from my nose.

“You fucking idiot!”

She kicks me in the groin for good measure, and the whole world turns white.

“What did you think this was? A pity fuck?!” Her voice has risen by an octave and by several decibels, but I hardly notice as I curl into a tight ball of pain. “Jesus Christ, Elery. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Her foot collides with my knee and I grunt, before she whirls on her heels and stalks away.

She stops several steps away, her shoulders heaving with held back sobs. Then she turns back and snarls, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you don’t deserve me!”

Her voice cracks on the last word and I close my eyes. I hear her footsteps retreating, torn between running and stumbling, and I feel like crying myself.

She’s right.

I am an idiot, but at least she’s free now. Free to pursue a life with someone else, someone who isn’t scarred. Someone who wasn’t signed over to a strange company before he was even born.

Someone who isn’t me.

2.03 – The Letter

A/N: Sorry, guys. Once again, I’m very slow at getting updates out. :( Going to try and update more regularly now the holidays are here, though. :)

This update is dedicated to both Jedidiah and Toast. Get well soon, guys!! <3

When I return home, my parents are arguing.

Or rather, my mum is shouting and my father, like always, remains as silent as a stone.

I think about turning around and leaving again, but my feet are frozen in place. Mum’s voice is muffled by the heavy wood of their bedroom door, but I can make out snatches of fury.

“… can’t believe you…”

Carefully, silently, I shut the front door. My hands are trembling and there’s a tightness in my chest that won’t go away. My parents never argue – not that I’ve heard, anyway. Mum usually tries to keep things in the house as calm as possible.

“… a damn idiot!”

But not today.

I creep over to the bottom of the stairs, heart thudding. A large part of me wants to hang around and eavesdrop some more, but an even larger part of me wants to run upstairs, burrow under my duvet and not come out until it’s safe. And Jed always tells me I’m brave. Pah.

As I reach the bottom stair, I realise that silence has fallen. I pause with my foot on the stair, straining to hear what’s going on. The shouting has stopped, but I can just make out an indistinct murmuring of voices.

Then I hear it.

From behind the closed door comes an inhuman moaning that makes my skin crawl. The tightness in my chest intensifies as I struggle to identify what I’m hearing.

My father is crying.

I turn and flee upstairs, not looking back.

* * *

When I was younger, my father was my hero.

Not just in that way little kids usually have, you know? An actual hero. In the pulled-me-from-a-burning-building kind of way.

According to my mother, my father has always been terrified of fire. He used to have nightmares about being trapped in a burning apartment. The fear was so bad that Mum says the house didn’t have an oven for years. I couldn’t imagine not having an oven – how would we cook macaroni cheese? How would Mum bake cookies?!

But…

I guess dreams have a strange way of coming true, but not always in the most expected of ways.

For that one moment, my father put his fear aside and saved my life. No matter what happened afterwards, no matter the accusations levelled at him by the police, my father will always have that.

But, when I was in hospital, my father insisted that a ghost had set the blaze. He insisted that he saw it hanging around my bedside, waiting to unplug the life support.

Waiting to finish the job, as it were.

The police were monitoring him at this point. They reckoned his warnings about the ghost were actually threats. For a brief time, everyone but Mum thought that he had started the fire. Mum says she always believed in him, even after she complied with police wishes and barred him from my hospital room.

I asked her once if she believed in the ghost, but all she said was, “Your father was very sick, Elery.” It was only later that I realised she hadn’t answered my question.

After my father was banished from the hospital, things really started going downhill. Several times, he was caught sneaking past security, with the insistence that he needed to protect me. One time, the police were called and my father spent the night in a police cell, until Grandad Moss paid his bail.

Then my father attacked a nurse, and he was shipped off to a psychiatric institution. Mum has always said ‘attacked’ is an exaggeration, but she won’t tell me what actually happened.

By the time I got out of hospital, my father was still institutionalised. It took another year and a half before the doctors agreed he was well enough to be released.

By then, he was a stranger to me.

Things should have got back to normal after that, whatever ‘normal’ had been. But things don’t work out that smoothly.

My father had become a ghost himself. For a long time, all he could do was sit on the sofa and stare at the wall. It broke Mum’s heart. Farrow began acting out, and his grades at school plummeted. If not for Jamie, I think our family would have fallen apart.

Farrow went to stay with Jamie and his family often, sometimes for weeks at a time. It was not the best situation, but it took the pressure off everyone and Farrow even started to smile again. Jamie and Mum, with patience, got my father interested in gardening again.

And things, though they did perhaps not improve, evened out.

Through all this, however, I have never heard my father cry.

Until today.

* * *

Later, when I’ve mustered the courage to go back downstairs, I bump into Heidi on the stairs.

She blinks at me, and says in a hushed voice, “I was just coming to find you.” She checks over her shoulder, and then adds, “Farrow’s here. Mum and Dad have something important to tell us.”

“A family meeting?” I ask.

Heidi nods, before turning and walking back down the stairs again.

I remain where I am for a moment, head reeling, chest tightening. The last time we had a family meeting was just before Farrow went to stay with Jamie and Jenna for two whole months.

Had Farrow told our parents what I’d done?

Were they going to send me away too?

I shake my head, tell myself not to be so ridiculous, and walk down the stairs to join my family.

Farrow and Heidi are already seated on the sofa, leaving a space in the middle for me. My parents are seated on dining chairs in front of the sofa, their expressions grim. My father is wringing his hands, staring at his lap and looking every inch the scolded child.

What’s happened?

I flop down on the sofa between my siblings, deliberately not looking at Farrow. His gaze burns my cheek for a long moment, before Mum clears her throat and takes his attention away.

“Your father and I have something important we need to talk to you about. Now, I know you’re not going to like what he has to say, but I want you all to listen to your father.”

Our father shuffles in his chair, but doesn’t speak. Mum nudges him with her elbow.

“Gabe.”

Our father seems more tired than usual. The lines on his forehead are deeper, more pronounced. When he speaks, the words sound rehearsed, as though he has been reciting them over and over in his mind.

“When I… when I adopted Jamie, I didn’t really do things the normal way. A company called Doo Peas helped me out, the same company who gave me this piece of land to grow a garden on.”

“The Doo Peas in town?” Heidi asks, and my father nods.

“Well, they asked me to sign a contract. At the time, I didn’t really… well, I didn’t think it’d have any implications. And then I forgot all about it, until a letter arrived this morning.”

There is a short silence, and then Heidi finally asks, “What did it say, Dad?”

My father draws in a slow, steadying breath.

“I promised them that one of my children would come to work for them when they became of age.”

A stunned silence follows his words, as each of us tries to digest this news. A hard knot of nausea has taken residence in the pit of my stomach. My father takes a deep breath.

“Farrow, you -“

“Fuck, no, Dad. You’re not asking that of me.”

“Farrow -“

“No!” My brother rockets to his feet. “Jabberwocky has started getting offers for gigs in other cities. I will not let my bandmates down, no matter what stupid promises you made to some company long ago!”

My father looks stricken. Before Farrow can say anything else, however, Heidi speaks up.

“Please, don’t fight. I’ll do it.”

Farrow’s face is a mixture between relief and distress. He sinks back onto the sofa.

“But, Heidi… what about your garden centre?”

Ever since Heidi was a little girl, she has dreamt of opening her own garden centre here in Riverview. She’s always helped our father out in the garden with the vegetables, but her real passion lies in flowers, especially orchids. She got a part time job at the bookstore in town when she was still in school, just so that she could start saving up to make her dream a reality.

But if she goes to work for Doo Peas, that will never be the case.

Heidi gives us a weak smile. “It doesn’t really matter, don’t worry about it.”

Up until now, I’ve remained silent, trying to understand what my father’s actions really mean. Hearing the quiet acceptance in Heidi’s voice, however, makes my stomach begin to churn.

My sister has a dream. A tangible, reachable dream.

What do I have?

A dream to sing on the stage, when my own brother can’t even stand to look at my face.

If anyone should be sacrificing their dream to protect their siblings, it should be me.

“Heidi, no. I’ll do it.” When she looks at me and opens her mouth to protest, I shake my head. “No, listen. Riverview needs a garden centre. Have you seen the state of some of the gardens around here?”

“Elery.” There’s an odd note in Mum’s voice. “Are you sure? We’re going to try and fight them on this, you know.”

I make myself smile, if only to stop my parents worrying.

“I’m sure. This could be a good thing. I won’t have to worry about applying for a job or anything this way.”

There is a long silence, in which everyone stares at me as though I’ve grown an extra head. My cheeks heat up and, suddenly, I want to be anywhere but here.

“May I be excused?”

I don’t wait for anyone to answer; I can’t stand to sit there for another moment. I get up and walk upstairs, steps mechanical, back straight. I try not to let them see how much my hands are shaking.

Dreams hurt when they shatter.

* * *

My family leave me to myself for about an hour. At least, it seems that long. When I hear footsteps on the stairs and glance at my alarm clock, only five minutes have passed.

“Go away,” I mutter, as the tell-tale top stair creaks loudly. “I don’t care what you have to say, I’m doing it.”

“I didn’t come to talk to you about that.”

I sit up in surprise at the sound of Farrow’s voice. He is standing at the top of the stairs; if I didn’t know him better, I would say that he is hovering unsurely. Memories of the day before flood into the pit of my stomach, red and hot and painful, and I flop back
on the bed.

“If that’s the case, fuck off.”

“I suppose I deserved that,” Farrow mutters, but he doesn’t leave.

“Why the hell have you come to talk to me if you can’t stand to look at me?” The venomous, angry words spill out of me before I can stop them.

Farrow doesn’t answer right away, just looks at his feet. My chest constricts, burning with an ugly, white-hot hatred.

“Did your friends force you to come and apologise?” I spit the question at him. “Well, don’t bother. I don’t want your apologies.”

“Elery, I didn’t -“

Before I know it, I’m on my feet. “I said I don’t want them!”

I feel sick with anger; I just want him to go away and leave me alone. For a moment, he thinks about leaving; I can see it in the way his eyes flick towards the staircase, in the way he shifts his weight to his other foot.

Then, his jaw sets and he takes a step towards me.

“I came here to talk to you, and I’m not leaving until you let me.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like, Farrow. People are always staring, or commenting, or pitying! You’re my brother – you’re meant to protect me from that, not  – not – Jed’s the closest thing to a brother I have!”

I’ve hurt him – I can see it on his face. For a moment, I even regret it.

There’s a few brief seconds where I think Farrow is going to shout back; that’s usually how our fights go, after all. Anger flickers over his face like an echo of my own. I almost want him to shout at me, to give me and excuse to scream every little thing I can think of.

But Farrow takes a deep, calming breath, and doesn’t shout.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m sorry. Sure, I’m here because the guys made me come, but… I’ve wanted to have a proper conversation with you about this for a while.”

I sink onto the the edge of the bed, deflated. Though the anger has run its course, my stomach is still tied up in knots.

“What do you even want to say?” My voice is hoarse. “You made your feelings pretty damn clear yesterday.”

Farrow lets out a long breath, and then sits down on the bedroom floor, raking his fingers through his hair.

“It’s going to sound really pathetic.”

My eyes narrow. “Try me.”

“Looking at you… your scars…” Farrow groans and buries his face in his hands for a moment, before he forces himself to look up and meet my eyes. “It hurts. You don’t remember what Dad was like before the fire, Ri. Neither does Heidi, not really. But I do. Every time I look at you, I relive that. The fire, Dad being taken away, you lying broken and – and terrifying in the hospital.”

He looks down at his hands. “Every time I look at you I remember how close I was to losing you, and it makes me sick.”

I had thought that hearing the reason behind Farrow’s disgust would make me feel better, but, if anything, I just feel a whole lot worse.

“No one’s making you look at me,” I manage, trying to disguise the definite tremor in my voice. “You don’t have to see me at all if you don’t want to.”

There’s a long silence, in which I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

Do not cry in front of him.

Then, Farrow gets slowly to his feet. I almost want him to come over and wrap his arms around me, to apologise again and to promise to be the brother Mum’s always told me he was. But all he does is look out of the window.

“I’ve got to get out of Riverview,” he says, talking to the sky instead of me. “I’m leaving.”

I want to speak, but my mouth is suddenly dry.

This isn’t what’s meant to happen.

“I’m going to Sunset Valley. Arthur and Lance are already there, so it’s not like I won’t know anyone. The band’s going to get a flat – there’s a lot more opportunities there than out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Farrow is still talking determinedly to the window.

“I don’t want you to leave.” My voice sounds thick and weak, nothing like normal.

Farrow finally looks at me again, and his expression falters slightly. Softens.

“This isn’t your fault, Elery. I just need to get out of this town. Start again.

“Because of me.” The words are meant to be an accusation, but they just come out as a whisper.

Farrow hesitates, before saying softly, “Not entirely.”

I look down at my hands; my palms bear little half-moons where my nails have dug in. My eyes burn, but I feel too hollow to cry. As far as crappy days go, this one is pretty high up on the list.

I can’t think of anything else to say and, after a moment, I hear Farrow’s retreating steps on the stairs.

Walking out of your life, my treacherous brain says and, finally, my vision blurs.

Before I can curl up in a desolate ball, my phone vibrates loudly on the bedside table. I swipe my arm furiously over my eyes, dashing the tears before they can fall.

Jed.

Slipping off my bed, I snatch up the phone and flip it open, expecting to see some silly joke Jed’s found to try to cheer me up. Instead, Charity’s name blinks at me, the new message picture flashing beside it.

7 2morrow @ Singalot Castle
dont forget xx

At this point in my very crappy day, I have forgotten all about my impending date with Charity, but I text her back reassuring her that I haven’t.

Thank God that’s not tonight.

After the message informs me it’s been sent, I scroll through my phone to find Jed’s number. He answers on the third ring.

“Any chance you can come over?” I ask, before he can get a word in. “I’ve had the worst day ever.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Jed says, “I’m on my way.”

I hang up and flop back down on my bed, closing my eyes

With Jed coming, everything will work out okay.

It has to.

2.02 – Feelings

A/N: So much for this update being out quickly… sorry guys. :c

Thanks to catcrunchies for making Hunter and Abel. Also, thanks to TheUsernameFound for letting me use the name of one of her sims!

It’s cold in the garage, so cold that my breath is misting in the darkness. My legs are cramping and the box I’m curled up in smells of mould and damp. Somewhere to my right, I can hear a faint scratching sound.

Rats, maybe?

I shudder slightly and shift position in an attempt to soothe my legs. Fabric scrapes against cardboard and I wince. I’ll have to keep as still as possible when they finally arrive. I touch a button on my watch. It glows green and bright, and I have to squint to make out the time.

They’re half an hour late.

After a little while, I hear voices. They’re indistinct at first, but soon laughter floats clearly through the garage door. I curl up tighter in my box, trying to quieten my breaths. My heart is pounding in my ears, so loud I’m scared they’ll hear it.

I’m screwed if they realise I’m here.

“Damn, Row – all I’m saying is she had a fine ass.”

“Yes, but she had all the brains of a potato.”

My heart skips a beat at the sound of my brother’s voice. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and close my eyes, as though that will camouflage me more.

I’m so dead if Farrow catches me.

I jump as the garage door scrapes open. Footsteps echo on the concrete floor and there is a click and a buzz and a light flickers into life. I open my eyes again, but the light hasn’t made much difference to the darkness of my box. If only I’d thought to make eye holes.

“You don’t need them to have brains, if you know what I mean.”

“Ah, shut up, Dean.”

You see, Farrow has a band called ‘Jabberwocky’. You know, after the famous poem? He and his three friends formed it back when they were fifteen or something, so they’ve been together almost six years. Pretty impressive, really. They gig around town, playing the coffee bars and nightclubs and, sometimes, the park in the centre of town.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a part of them. I’ve wanted to sing. Jed says I should just form my own band, but he doesn’t understand. I want to sing with Farrow and his friends. I want him to approve of me.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Me and Farrow kind of have a rocky relationship. I mean, he’s not a bad brother. He can say some cruel things and we fight like any brothers do, but I reckon, if I needed him, he’d help me. I haven’t been proved wrong yet. Of course, I haven’t been proved right either.

Farrow’s friends, on the other hand, well… I guess they just see me as the annoying kid brother that tries to join in with whatever they’re doing. They were pretty tolerant at first, especially as Farrow and I shared a bedroom, but, as Farrow’s patience waned, so did theirs.

Dean Brennan is my brother’s best friend. They’ve been close ever since Skip Broke, Farrow’s best friend in primary school, was killed in a hit and run a few years back. Farrow was pretty torn up about the whole thing. Dean, being the nice guy he is, penned a song about Skip and sang it to Farrow and they’ve been close ever since. That song is the one Jabberwocky usually end a gig with. It’s a slow, heartfelt song – a lot different from the rock ‘n’ roll beats of their usual stuff.

Hunter Mitchell is the cool guy at our school. Like, so cool he makes ice look lame. He usually has about a million girls fawning over him (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but seriously) and he’s good at sports, good at maths, good at… well, everything. Farrow says he’s actually really shy, but he never seems that way to me.

Abel Brett is the sweetest guy ever. When I was younger, he always used to play with me, even if the others got fed up. He’ll still chat to me now, if we meet in the street. There used to be rumours going around that Abel is gay, but I’ve heard them talking enough at sleepovers to know that he’s definitely into girls. Either that, or he’s very good at pretending.

Jabberwocky used to practice all over the place, including our house, and I loved to sit and listen to them. I used to daydream all the time about Farrow suddenly asking me to sing with them, and that I would blow them all away. I still daydream about it sometimes, but, unfortunately, since Farrow moved out they’ve been practicing in his garage and I haven’t been able to hear them.

Until today.

I feel kind of bad that I had to practically break in (well, not technically since I know where Farrow hides his spare key) in order to listen to them practice, but I couldn’t help myself. I missed it too much.

I can practically see Jed’s disapproving face right now. Sorry, Jed.

It’s in a break between songs that I feel the sneeze tickling the back of my nose.

Shit.

Achoo!

The sound echoes in the sudden silence. I don’t even dare to breathe.

“What in the name of fuck was that?” Dean says. His drumsticks clack together and I flinch. “You never said your garage was haunted.”

“It’s not haunted, idiot.” There is a pause, a stretch of silence. I’m done for. “Elery, get out here now.”

I don’t move. I’m already in such deep trouble that an attempt to keep hidden is worth the potential for more.

“Perhaps we were just hearing things,” Abel suggests, though his tone is doubtful.

Footsteps.

I shrink more into the box, my breath coming fast and shallow. I’m dead, I’m so dead.

“We weren’t hearing things,” Farrow says. He sounds pissed.

In a last ditch attempt to stay hidden, I hold my breath. It doesn’t work.

The top of the box opens and bright white light floods in, blinding me. I squint up at my brother’s silhouette, making myself smile.

“H-hi, Farrow…”

Farrow grabs my hair and yanks me to my feet.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snarls, shaking me whilst I whimper in pain. “Breaking and entering. I should call the police!”

“Technically, I used your spare key,” I mumble, though it’s the wrong thing to say.

Suddenly I’m sprawled on the concrete, pain throbbing in my hip and elbow where I didn’t break my fall in time. Farrow stands over me, fists clenched.

“I’ve told you before, band practices are off limits. Jesus Christ, Elery. Everyone else gets it but you.”

“I just -”

“This is my house, and I never wanted you here!”

Before I know what’s happening, I’m on my feet, shoving him away from me. Enough is enough.

“What the hell have I ever done to you, Farrow?” All the resentment from our childhood seems to be bursting out of me now, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it. “Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Is that it? Because I’m ugly?”

I desperately want him to deny it, to tell me that I’m being ridiculous.

Instead, his face goes still. His jaw clenches. Something flickers in his eyes, and I can’t tell if it’s pain or loathing. All of the anger drains away from me, leaving me cold and pale with fear.

And then, finally, Farrow speaks.

“I can’t stand to look at you.”

The words are like a punch in the gut. For a moment, I stand frozen, speechless. My head swims.

“He looks like he’s going to faint,” someone says, but it’s like they’re speaking from somewhere far away. There’s a dull roar building in my ears. “Hey, Elery…”

All that I can focus on is my brother’s face. He’s gone white, his eyes wide.

“Elery, I -”

“That’s enough,” Abel says, cutting him off and pushing him aside as though he’s little more than a curtain. “I think I should take Elery home, and then everyone can cool off a bit.” He looks pointedly at Farrow, then back at me. “Sound good, Ri?”

He lays his hand on my arm, and something inside me snaps.

“Get the fuck away from me! I hate you! I’m better off dead!”

The members of Jabberwocky seem as stunned by my sudden outburst as I am. Before any of them can react beyond gaping in surprise, I push past Abel and Farrow and run. No one stops me as I wrestle with the garage door, my breath loud and ragged in the heavy silence. As it opens with a screech, Jabberwocky come to life.

“Ri, wait!”

“Stop, it’s okay! Farrow didn’t -”

“Elery!”

“Leave me alone!”

My footsteps pound on the pavement as I flee into the fading light.

No one follows.

***

People say things in the heat of the moment that they don’t mean, I know that. I mean, for one thing, I knew that I was better off being alive, thank you very much.

But the way Farrow had told me that he can’t stand to look at me… he meant that. I know he meant it. I’ve known it for a long time, but he’s never had the balls to say it out loud before now.

I don’t go home.

Farrow has probably already called Mum and told her what I’d done or, if I’m really unlucky, he would be waiting there himself. No, I can’t go home tonight. I don’t want to face Mum or my father or Heidi. I don’t want to see the flicker of pain in Mum’s eyes when she looks at me, or to see my father pushing limp salad leaves around his plate with a trembling fork.

Not tonight.

I go to Jed’s house instead. His parents are away on a business trip, so it’s a good bet he’s the only one there. Besides, if anyone can snap me out of this miserable mood I’m in, it’s him. I hate feeling miserable.

I hold down the doorbell for a moment and then pound on the door for good measure. Sometimes, Jed gets so caught up in reading that he doesn’t hear anything going on around him.

Just as I’m about to ring the doorbell again, the front door opens. Jed doesn’t look surprised to see me standing on his doorstep; he  just offers me a smile and steps back to allow me into the house.

“Did you argue with Farrow again?”

I make a face as I bend to take off my shoes. Jed always seems to know exactly what’s up.

“Something like that.”

Jed seems to sense that I don’t want to talk about it, so he keeps his mouth shut (for now) and leads me into the kitchen.

“I was just about to start dinner. You want some?”

“All right.” My stomach growls in agreement. I hadn’t realised how hungry I am.

“Macaroni cheese okay?” Jed says, grabbing ingredients out of the fridge.

I nod. “Need any help?”

“Nah, it’s cool.”

As he started fixing dinner, Jed shoots me a look.

“So… I know you don’t want to talk about it, but what happened?”

I sigh and focus my attention on the floor tiles. With anyone else, I would have told them to mind their own business, but with Jed it’s different. I’ve never hidden anything from him, not even the embarrassing crush I had on a supply teacher when we were twelve.

“Well…  I broke into Farrow’s garage to listen to Jabberwocky practice.”

I glance up just in time to catch the disapproving expression on Jed’s face, the exact same one I had imagined as I’d huddled in that mouldy old box in Farrow’s garage. I know Jed too well.

“He caught you, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

Jed is silent for a time and I lapse into my own thoughts. The macaroni cheese smells so damn good that I’m almost distracted from my bad mood. God, I’m hungry. I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.

I’m so busy thinking about food that the quiet sound of Jed’s voice makes me jump.

“What did he say to you?”

“Well…” My stomach clenches as I remember Farrow’s words. “He said he can’t stand to look at me.”

Jed drops his wooden spoon. Then, scowling, he picks it up again and begins to stir the macaroni cheese with a little more vigour than necessary.

“Tch,” he says. “I know you love your brother, Ri, but he can be a right…” He trails off and shakes his head, before taking the saucepan off the heat; his mother has always taught him not to swear.

I don’t speak as Jed spoons the macaroni cheese into two bowls, nor do I speak as we sit at the kitchen table, poking at our dinner in an attempt to cool it down. I don’t know what to say. Jed is right.

Eventually, though, Jed gets fed up with the silence.

“Elery, look… your brother is an idiot. More than an idiot. He’s always saying things that upset you.”

“Not like this.”

“Well, no… but, you can’t let it get to you. You’re stronger than that.”

“He’s my brother, Jed. He should be looking after me, not hurting me.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Talked to him?”

“Yeah. About why he seems to hate you so much.”

“No…”

“Well… I think you should. I know it seems a weird thing to suggest, but he’s got to have a reason, right?”

I frown. “I’ll think about it.”

Jed smiles and pushes his bowl away. “Good.”

***

After we’ve washed and dried up (Mrs Seven would kill us if we didn’t), we retreat upstairs to Jed’s bedroom. Jed’s room is warm and cosy, as familiar as my own room at home. When we were younger and I was unable to put lotion on my scars by myself, I wasn’t allowed to stay around very often. This made us sad. Eventually, though, Mrs Seven told Mum that she didn’t mind doing it and from then on I slept around Jed’s house at least once a week. Sometimes, Charity (our other best friend) came and stayed too, but she always had to sleep in the spare room so it wasn’t ‘inappropriate’. She usually sneaked in, though, after Mr and Mrs Seven had gone to bed and sneaked back out before they woke.

We were never caught, though once Mr Seven did catch us raiding the fridge for ice cream at two in the morning.

“Hey, Ri?” Jed’s soft voice startles me out of my reverie.

“Mm?” I sit up,  shifting so I can see him properly. “What’s up?”

“Can I have some advice?”

I’m startled by the request. “You want my advice? That’s unusual.”

Jed sticks his tongue out, and I smile. Ever since we were younger, Jed’s always been the one to go to in a crisis. He’s always cool, calm and collected, at least about other people’s problems. The amount of times I’ve run to him after a fight with Farrow or when I’m stuck with homework or, well, anything doesn’t really bear thinking about. In comparison, I can count on one hand the amount of times Jed has had to come to me for advice.

“Well… don’t laugh, all right? It’s about a girl.”

My eyes widen. “A girl?”

“A specific girl.”

“Which girl?”

Jed, to my surprise, goes bright red.

“Elisabeth Grey.”

My mouth drops open, but I shut it again rather quickly.

Elisabeth Grey is one of the most popular girls in our class. She’s stunning to look at, for one thing, but she’s also incredibly smart. This makes her a world apart from some of the beautiful airheads that seem to grace our school. She had been dating Tristan Amour, self-proclaimed prince of our school and top athelete, but according to Charity they had recently split up due to him being too ‘handsy’. Charity is a fountain of gossip, I swear, and much too talented at eavesdropping on the conversations of girls she doesn’t like.

I move up on the bed beside Jed, watching him.

“You have a crush on her?”

Jed nods, his cheeks still aflame. I let out my breath in a low whistle and push my hair back out of my eyes.

“Well… I’m crap at advice, Jed, you know that. But… why not just tell her?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll laugh at me.”

“Why would she laugh at you? You’re attractive and smart, Jed, and I don’t think she’d be put off by your glasses, if that’s what you’re worried about. And, as far as I know, you’re not all ‘handsy’ like Amour.”

Jed makes a face.

“That’s another thing I’m worried about. He’s bigger than me.”

“You’re right.”

“Thanks…”

“Seriously, though…” I smile. “You should just tell her how you feel. The worse thing that can happen is that she says no.”

Jed frowns. “I guess so… but…”

“But nothing. You asked for my advice, and that’s what it is. I can’t make you ask her out, Jed, but… it’s what I would do.”

Jed smiles.

“Sure, Ri, but you’ve always been a lot braver than me when it comes to girls. I mean, there was that time you stood up in class and read out that love poem to Sarah Martin.”

I scowl. “Yes, and everyone laughed at me for days. Including her.”

“Doesn’t stop you being brave.” He grins.

“Or stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Jed sighs. “I’ll try out your advice, or at least, I intend to. I don’t know if I’ll be able to just… come out with it. Enough about me, though… do you have a crush on anyone at the moment, Ri?”

The question catches me off guard. I haven’t really thought about girls since the Sarah Martin fiasco.

“I haven’t. I’ve been concentrating on my studies, and on practicing singing.”

Jed gives me an odd, unreadable look.

“Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

Jed tilts his head and gives me a grin.

“Never mind. I’m not going to tell you if you haven’t figured it out -” His words die as I grab a pillow off the bed and hit him with it. “Elery!”

Thus begins the evening’s epic pillow fight, in which all thoughts of girls are forgotten.

***

The next day, I still don’t feel like going home.

Luckily, it’s Saturday, so Jed calls Charity and we head out to Lost Willow Park. Not many people ever come here, so it’s a great spot to hang out and mess around without a care in the world.

Charity is already there when Jed and I arrive. She’s sitting by the pond, trailing her fingers in the water, but when she sees us she looks up and grins.

“It took you long enough!”

I grin back.

“Blame Jed. He spent hours in the bath.”

Jed snorts at that. “Did not.”

“Did too.”

We flop down on the grass beside Charity, and I sigh with contentment. Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it.

Charity cocks her head, looking between the two of us.

“So, how come I wasn’t invited to the sleepover?”

“Its was kind of unplanned,” Jed says, whilst I make a face. “Elery argued with his brother and turned up on my doorstep.”

Charity rests her hand on my leg, her expression sympathetic, but she doesn’t say anything. To be honest, we’ve exhausted the topic of Farrow’s assholery far too many times for her to have anything new to add.

“I’m sorry, Char,” I say after a moment of silence. “You know we’d have invited you if I’d given Jed more warning.”

She smiles, and I’m suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact she hasn’t moved her hand from my thigh.

“Yeah, I know.”

I’ve never really thought about Charity in a romantic way. I mean, she’s always been just one of my best friends, no different from Jed. Why should I care if her hand is on my leg?

And then, I remember Jed’s words from the night before.

Are you sure about that?

He couldn’t have meant that he thinks I have feelings for Charity… could he?

I’ve honestly never thought of her like that before, but now the idea has crossed my mind I can’t let it go. How come I’ve never noticed what colour her eyes are before? How come I’ve never noticed the way light plays in her hair, fractured and splintered by the sunlight?

How come I’ve never thought of her as a girl?

“Hey, Earth to Elery.” Charity’s voice startles me into sitting up straight. “Are you in there? You kind of spaced out.”

“Oh… yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

“That’s new.” Charity sticks her tongue out. “I asked you a question.”

“Yeah?”

“I asked if you guys wanted to go to that new karaoke place tomorrow. It opens tonight, but I thought tomorrow it might be a bit quieter.”

Jed makes a face.

“Sorry, I can’t make it. My parents are coming home tomorrow and they’ll want to have a big family dinner.”

Charity turns her gaze back to me and my stomach does a weird little flip flop.

“Elery?” she says, waiting for an answer.

In the moment before I speak, Jed gives me a quick wink behind her head. I suddenly realise that, even if his parents hadn’t been coming home, he would have made up some excuse not to come.

Oh, you sly bastard.

“I can make it,” I say, making a rude gesture at Jed behind Charity’s back. He at least has the grace to blush.

Charity grins, and I find myself thinking about how nice her smile is. Damn it, Jed.

“It’s a date!”

Oh, man… what have I let myself in for?

2.01 – Me and My Family

A/N: Hi guys! Welcome to generation two! As you can see, this chapter’s going to be a little different than usual as it’s an assignment Elery has written for class. I thought it was a good way of introducing you back to the family after a bit of a time skip.

This chapter has a guest appearance by the wonderful commonthistle. See if you can spot her! :)

Also, this chapter marks the first appearance of Jedidiah‘s simself and a sim inspired by one Desmera made for me, called Charity. Both sims will have a large role to play in the coming generation, so I thought I’d credit them here to save me doing so at the beginning of each chapter.

Introductions aside… I had you over to Elery for the very first time. Enjoy!

Me and My Family

by Elery Nesaren (Aged 9)

This is my house. Mummy says we’ve lived here since before I was even born, but I don’t renember that. That was forever ago!

This is my room (and our dog!). I share with Farrow. He says that the walls used to have bees on but I don’t renember that either.

I like my bed. It’s nicer that Farrow’s. This is where Mummy puts loy loi loo loshun on my skin to make sure it doesn’t dry out. She does this when I wake up, when I get home from scool and when I go to bed. :)

This is my big brother, Farrow. He is 15. We don’t get on becos he is mean to me. Mummy says we used to be best frends, but I think she is rong.

When I was little, Farrow never let me play. I wanted to be a prince. He said I had to be an monster becos I’m ugly. I cried and Mummy told him off. I didn’t get to play.

Farrow plays his stupid geetar all day. He wants to be a rock star like Uncle Isaac, but I think you have to be nice to be a rock star. Uncle Isaac is nice. Farrow is mean. :(

I wish he liked me.

This is my sister, Heidi. She is 13. She is a girl so we don’t play much, but she is not mean like Farrow. She said she would help me take pictures for this project. :)

This is Mummy. Mummy does the cooking and the cleaning and takes care of us. She is the best mummy in the hole world.

This is Mummy when she reelised I was taking pictures. She has a nice smile. :)

This is Daddy. Daddy is a hero. He saved me from a big fire when I was little.

Daddy doesn’t talk much and he likes to be out in his garden. Farrow says he was diffrent before the fire, but I don’t renember. After the fire, they took Daddy away for a bit becos the policemen thought he had set the house on fire. Mummy says they are rong. Daddy says it was a gost that made the fire, but Mummy says there’s no such thing as gosts.

Farrow says that Daddy went to a mental ass aslum assilum and that they did nasty things to him. I asked him like what and Farrow says like elektrik shocks and ice baths. Mummy says Farrow is lying and told him off. Mummy says that Daddy just went to a quite place for a while. But I don’t know. I had nightmares about the assilum. I think Daddy has nightmares too.

Mummy and Daddy love each other very much. Farrow says he hates Daddy, but Mummy says Farrow is sad becos he misses our old daddy. I don’t understand. We’ve only ever had one daddy. I think.

This is Genesis. She is our dog. She spends lots of time with Daddy in his garden but sometimes she lets me hug her and then licks my face which is icky but I love her anyway.

This is Jamie. He’s my bigger brother, though he’s old. He’s not really my brother but Daddy adopted him so he kind of is. :) Jamie is married to Jenna and has six children, so I am an uncle even though I’m only 9. :) Jamie comes round sometimes to look after us kids, and sometimes to look after Daddy.

I like Jamie. He always plays with me and helps me with my homework.

This is Nanny and Grandad Moss. They come over all the time from where they live in Medowglen. Sometime we go to see them there too and Nanny always bakes lots of cookies! Sometimes Jamie comes with us but if he is too bizzy Nanny always sends a bunch of cookies back for him. Sometimes we eat some in the car but that’s a secret so don’t tell her. :)

This is my scool. It is one of my favrite places becos no one is mean to me.

This is my classroom and my teacher, Mrs Bruce. She is very nice and she told off Robert when he was mean to me so no one is mean anymore! She can be scary but only if you don’t do your homework and I always do mine so I really like her.

This is a picture of my best frends, Jed and Charity.

Jed reads a lot and he is really nice. Sometimes he lets me borrow his books and I have to be carefull not to bend them or he gets mad. But I never bend them so it’s okay. Jed has been my frend since we started scool and I bumped him and he fell in a puddle and got his uniform muddy. I let him borrow my jumper so he didn’t get cold.

Ree only came to scool this year becos she was teached at home, but she wanted to come to scool to make frends. The first day she brung frogspawn to show and tell and all the girls screamed! Me and Jed desided to show her where to find the best frogspawn in the school pond and after that we were best frends. Ree says we’re better than girls but I think she’s kind of sad sometimes that the girls call her frogface. When Mrs Bruce hears they get told off.

Even if my family don’t get along all the time, I still love them. Farrow is a meanie but sometimes he tells really good stories and Heidi is always nice to me. Mummy and Daddy are the best Mummy and Daddy in the hole world and Daddy is my hero no matter what Farrow says about gosts and assilums.

Mummy says that I forgot to put a picture of me but I didn’t want to. Mummy made me take one.

Heidi got me when I wasn’t reddy.

This is me. My name is Elery and I am 9 years old.

The end.