Left Behind | ONGOING |

Chapter Five: Jasper

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L E V I

"I can't believe you!!" 

"What can't you believe? I just don't think this relationship works anymore."

"So you go and cheat on me? We have kids Kyla!" 

Screams echo throughout the house as I scurry through the dark hall, my little feet pattering on the floor. Arriving at the end of the hall, I knock on the last door, entering right after. The room is dimly lit, and on the bed is my older brother Jasper, with little Eli already curled up asleep by his side. He looks up, and at catching sight of my wet cheeks and puffy eyes, Jasper immediately opens his arms. I run into them and latch onto his shirt, burying my face in his chest. I feel him press his face onto my head, my hair growing damp as the shouting continued. 

"How long has this been going on, huh? How long have you been fucking behind my back??" 

"That doesn't matter! What matters is that it feels as if you don't care about me anymore!  You're always working!" My mom's screeches are gaining volume, and I don't understand how Eli was still sleeping through all the noise. 

"I'm always working because we need the money! There's barely enough to pay the bills, let alone feed all of us!" My dad's rebuke comes quickly, and I hide myself further in my brother's arms. 

"You know what, John? I want a DIVORCE!"

The word shakes the house, and all went silent downstairs. I take the opportunity and ask my brother an important question. 

"Jazz? What does divorce mean?" I whisper, wiping my face with his shirt sleeve. 

My brother is eight - a whole two years older than me - and because of that, he has to know everything. 

Jasper just frowns, shushing me as the voices start-up again, quieter this time. 

"Kyla, let's calm down and think about this. Really think about this," My dad says. "What about the kids? They deserve to have two parents in their life." 

"I have thought about this. We're done."  My mom replies, her voice calm by the end of her sentence. 

A door slams shut downstairs, and all falls silent. 

~*~

I stared up at my ceiling, stretched across my mattress. 

Insomnia is hitting extra hard tonight, and with it, came memories. Memories I really don't want to think about at this moment.  

I sighed, rolling over to look at the clock. 2:30 AM. 

It seems like my chances of making it through the day on sleep instead of coffee were low. I sat up abruptly and slid off the mattress in a quick succession. My legs felt heavy and the edges of my mind were thick with exhaustion as I blinked to adjust to the dim lighting of the den. I walked quietly to a cardboard box sitting in a dark corner of the room, mindful not to wake up my little brothers. The box flaps were flipped over, revealing a pile of items that were beginning to gather dust.

 Inside were things that we kept from when Dad and Jasper still lived with us. From when my life was normal, and we were one happy family. Or, at least, that's what we appeared to be. They were also the only things I were able to salvage when mom had a fit of rage and destroyed most of it. 

At the top of the pile was a locket - it was around the size of a golf ball and plain black with no engravings on the outside. I used to wear it all the time, but one point it had found its way inside the box, and I eventually forgot about it. Picking it up, I clicked open the latch and just stared, something aching in my chest. 

The photo inside showed my dad, his head thrown back as he laughed about something. His dark brown hair was slightly messy, and his brown eyes were filled with mirth. Jasper sat next to him, looking like a smaller version of our dad. He had a wild grin - something that he always seemed to have on - with an arm draped over my shoulder. Four-year old me was carrying a three-week old Eli as I beamed at the camera.

I vaguely remember taking that photo; we had all settled down in front of the Christmas tree, and mom had said something right before she took the picture, causing dad to burst out laughing. I didn't get it, and now that I was thinking about it, she probably said an adult joke of some sort.

Thinking about how it would only take two years for everything to fall apart made my throat burn. 

I'd always looked up to Jasper - he was always looking out for me, and knew so many "big" words. In my six-year old mind, that was more than enough for someone to be put on a pedestal. 

The last time I'd seen him in person was eight years ago. I remember when Jazz was trying to cheer me up when our parents broke the news to us. 

'It'll be alright Lev! We can be like, vintage, and send letters and stuff!' 

I had no idea what vintage ment, but I just went along with it. When they moved to the UK - where dad was originally from - we did send letters back and forth. I didn't think mom approved, but she had no excuse to bar me from speaking to them. 

But it's been around one and a half years since my last letter, and I hadn't heard from them since. I'm ninety-nine percent sure my mom had something to do with it. Sean had been the one helping me mail the letters and pay for the stamps, but my dad and Jasper only had my mom's number to contact me when we had occasionally talked on the phone. 

My mom didn't have any siblings, and her parents died when I was a toddler; so I wouldn't put it past her to cut off all form of contact from the only remaining family we have - dad's whole side -  and run off. I hadn't seen my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins since I was around five. 

As much as I would have liked to put the effort into getting into contact with them, I don't have the money or time to do so. So instead, I closed the locket and slipped it around my neck. Glancing at the clock once more, the time showed 4:53 in the morning. I'd sat staring at the picture for over two hours. Shaking my head, I got up. Doing so had been a huge waste of time. 

Thinking about the past just made the ever-present ache in my heart worse.