2 ~ Thomas
"Enough!" My father shouts at my brother. I mentally thank him, I didn't want Calum to laugh at me any longer.
Calum shoots me a hard glair ( which was quite scary) and flips me off before stomping upstairs, and into his room.
I lightly pat my cheeks, trying to get them to cool down.
My parent wordlessly shuffle into their bedroom. Being the nosy person I am, I follow, peaking through the crack The door.
"I just don't know what to do with him anymore, David!" My mother falls onto the bed, face down.
He sits down beside her and rubs her back soothingly. whispers something him her ear and she shakes her head, voice cracking.
My heart aches at the sound. Does Calum not get that he is hurting them? And even if he did, I bet he would not care about anyone but himself.
I quietly make it upstairs and to my own room, grabbing a pair of pajamas and moving to the bathroom across from my room.
My and Calum have to share a bathroom, unfortunately. He always leaves it filthy and I end up cleaning after him.
I grimaced as I kick a pair of his boxers out of my way. Before Striping out of my cloths, and setting my glasses on the counter. Hoping into the shower, I immediately relaxed.
Without my glasses, I can not see anything that is right I front of me, so I have everything in a perfect order. That way, I know where they are. It is rather annoying when Calum carelessly messes them up.
The hot water stings my back, and I roll my neck, cringing at the loud crack caused by the movement. Everything has been so stressful lately, it's being to take a toll on me.
I'm losing sleep. All my anxiety builds to the brink at night time, and I don't know how much time I have until it over flows.
The thought of sleep causes me to yawn while massaging shampoo into my scalp. My appetite is slowly diminishing also. I have been cutting back on my meals, all the stress makes my stomach turn.
A empty stomach, Sleep deprived teenager is not a good mix. I can not seem to focus on in school any longer. It is greatly frustrating. My parents breathing down my neck is not helpful either.
I duck my head under the water, washing out all the soap. My A's are turning into B's, which simply will not do.
I turn the water off, and dry my hair with the towel, then wrapping it around my waist. I blink, setting my glasses on the bridge of my nose, so I could see my cloths clearly.
I change into a pair of grey sweat pants and a blue t-shirt.It is in usual of me to sleep with out a shirt. It is at most un-modest, And I don't particularly feel comfortable showing off that much of my body.
I am not over weight or any such, I just lack muscle. I feel as if I look more like a flimsy boy than a young adult.
I throw my dirty towel with the others and and step into my room. The fresh smell invites me.
There is never a speck of dirt in my room, or a thing out of place. Unless of course, Calum comes in. I do not go in his room much, but I know he is too lazy to clean it.
"What is this." I jump as my father burst into my room. He throws a piece of paper at me.
He towers over me, arms crossed over his chest. You can clearly tell were Calum got his intimating stance from.
I grab the wrinkled piece of paper, hands shaking. " Well?" He shouts.
"It-" I squeak. I clear my voice, knowing that he hates it when I 'sound like a 5 year old girl '
"It is my math test." I try to stand tall, wanting to seem strong in front of him for once.
"You got a 87. An 87. " He hiss, causing me to flinch back. Well there goes look strong.
"yessir, I know, I-"
"I swear you and Calum are trying to ruin the campaign. I mean come on. You don't want to become like him, do you? A stupid, tattooed boy who doesn't give a fuck about anyone?" I blink back my tears, shaking my head.
"Then get your fucking act together, kid" He slams the door shut, causing the walls to vibrate.
I cover my face with my hands, knocking off my glasses and sitting between my bed and the wall, hiding me from view in case he came back in.
Im starting to question if they care about us and not how we look to everyone else. We have to look perfect, my mother is on the city council, and want to be the mayor.
I don't know how Calum does it. How does it not hurt him when they call him all those mean things? Because it hurts me. A lot.
Why does he feel the need to go against all the rules? Why must he make everything hard? He knows how much they care about the election.
He must. Father punched him last time he came home drunk, causing chaos with the neighbors.
~last week~
A loud crash wakes me up from my lovely sleep. I sigh, grabbing my glasses from the night stand and putting them on.
"What the hell Calum?" I rush down the stairs to see my brother swaying slightly, smirking at my red-faced father.
He chuckles. " well, you see. I was at a smashing party and there was a reeeeaaallly hot girl there and she wanted t-"
My dad growls, curling his hands into fists, white knuckles popping against his tan skin.
"Why in the world were you banging on the neighbors window?" He shouts. I silently pray that Calum just apologizes, that way it would not end up like last time.
But this was Calum we were taking about.
" oh, they pissed me off yesterday. There dog shat in our yard, and I fucking stepped in it, it wa-"
I gasp as my brothers head snaps back, hitting the wall. His hands fly up to his jaw line, he gaped up at my father.
Calum's eyes were dazed and my dad roughly grabbed his fore arm.
"Thomas, get back to your room." He warns through gritted teeth as he dragged Calum past me.
I cover my mouth, not wanting to gasp and irritate my father any more. Calum's face was already bruising, and for the first time in years, I saw emotions besides anger in his eyes.
~present time~
Calum stopped talking for 2 days after that. My mother and father still mad at him, me feeling pity for him.
Everything was going swell since then, well until tonight.
I yank my pillow off my bed and scream into it. The weight of keeping the peace in this house is breaking my back.
Well not literally, but you understand what I meant.
I know Mali tries, but she only interferes few times. She dose not do well with fights, and I understand. She has her reasons.
I just wish we could have real smiles in our family photos, instead of mother slapping us apon the head. Hissing "smile boys."
I slowly climb into my bed, pulling the covers over my head. I pull the pillow to my chest and Bury my face into the soft material.
Breath in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.
Breath out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.
I screw my eyes shut, feeling my neck to make sure the beat of my heart slows down.
The lump in the throat still lingers, my tear still threatening to fall. I don't like going through this alone. It is quit terrifying.
But sadly, Nobody has here arms open for to run into.
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A\N (please read)
I listened to Melanie Martinez and ate peanut butter crackers while writing this.
I find it hard to write from Thomas' pov. I tried to make him sound more posh\ smart sounding. (Which was really hard like, I'm not smart)
I know it's really early to open up all of this in the second chapter, but you will soon learn that Thomas is very open with his feelings.
Feedback/questions?
Thanks for reading, don't forget to not if you liked it.