Saving Nikolai (Book 1)

Chapter 9

The next morning I shower and clean my arm up. I have loads of old bracelets from my cutting days, in the past. I never wanted my brothers to see. They are far too young to understand. To have to know such darkness. I am determined to give them a happy life. I never want them to know the pain I've lived through. They deserve the best life. And I will work tirelessly to give that to them. My pain and struggle is irrelevant. My life unimportant. My father proved that when he didn't even consider me when he died so close to my birthday. He screamed that when he forgot his first born. He declared that when he left me to pick up the tattered pieces of my home. My family. My mother reinforced that when she forced me to work, provide, and care for my brothers. She might not care about my brothers either, but I'll be damned if they feel the despair I do every day. They will know love, happiness, joy, carefree fun. They will have great childhoods. Even if it kills me to give them such.

I showered a little too long. In water a little to hot. I wrapped a towel around me and sprinted to my room. I grabbed my cutest pink panties. Some dark gray skinny jeans. Rips across them, all up the leg and thigh. I put my new black boots on and grab a short black crop top. I wear a oversized black cardigan. I guess you could say I'm feeling dark today. My clothes reflect that. I grab a bunch of black and silver bracelets and through them on my left arm. I haven't worn these in years. But I've always kept them just in case. They make hiding my cutting easier. I put on nude lip and subtle blush, but I lay on the black eyeliner and gray smoky eye.
Anyone could tell just by looking at me, I'm not doing well.

But the twins don't know enough to ask, and Thomas has his friends and new boyfriend to keep him preoccupied. And honestly that's just fine with me. I'm not looking for pity. That's the last thing I need.
I make pancakes and scrambled eggs for the kids. Then I sit outside. This is my sanctuary. Where I find Peace. I talk to my chicken. And tell her everything. She wont judge me for my weakness. She just loves me. Unconditionally.

I discuss all the plans I have for the yard. How I want a pond, and ducks. How I will get turkeys next year and keep a couple roosters. I discuss the building I need to fix and the trees and bushes I want to plant. All while petting her. She just plopped down next to me and clucked at me from time to time, to show she was listening. See? She's better than therapy. I can unload all my struggles, hopes and dreams. And she never hates me. She just listens.
I really should name her. Athena? Venus? No....was Hara nurturing? I know she was the goddess of family. She was also kinda evil. My chicken is anything but. Fine... I pulled out my phone and look the goddesses up. Demeter. The goddess of infertility and harvest. That's a good chicken name.
"Ok chicken. You are from now on known as Demeter. But I'm telling you right now, I'm going to just call you Demi for short." She clucked a couple times and flapped her wings. So, I could only assume she liked it.
As sad as it might be, Demi's my only friend. So when I need a friend, she's who I go to.

It was kind of a cold day, so I went back in the house after lunch. I heated up chicken soup and made grilled cheese. If you think that's a funny combo, too bad! I like it.
Then I went to my room and finished my homework for the week. I had the kids nuke left overs, I just wasn't up for anything more. Then I washed and folded everyone's laundry. Cleaned the bathrooms and straightened my room. I washed the dishes and went to bed. It was a little before 9, but I needed to start Thanksgiving dinner yearly tomorrow anyway.

The next day I dress in a bark gray tank, black distressed pants and a black hoodie. I wore my black boots again. My make up much the same. Obviously the same bracelets and black belt.

I pulled out some mixed nuts from the freezer. And put them in a serving bowl in the middle of the table. I remember my grandma doing that when I was little. Then I filled a serving dish with small sweet pickles. For the same reason.
Then I started the turkey. I put a stick of butter under the skin. Mixed with garlic and mixed herbs. Then I put the ingredients for stuffing in the crock pot. Its not as good this way, in my opinion, but then it's one less thing that needs to go in the oven.
I mix ingredients for bread and let it rise. Then make a savory sweet potato dish. (I hate sweet potatoes with brown sugar and marshmallows.) And set it aside to bake late. I peel the potatoes and begin heating them in the pot. Then, make a dish with marshmallows, pineapple, jello, coconut and sour cream. I make green bean casserole and set it aside to bake later then start the pies.
I love pie so I make three. Mixed berry with apples, cherry, and pumpkin. I don't think anyone truly loves pumpkin pie, but is it really Thanksgiving without it? I purpose NO.
I bring all the food scraps to the rabbits and chickens and talk to Demi a bit before going back to finish cooking.

I serve Thanksgiving meal at 3 pm. The kids can snack the rest of the day of left overs. As I serve them, I realize I forgot cranberry sauce. But just shrug. Again, I make it for tradition. I don't actually like it.
Mom came out of her room today. That felt like an accomplishment. She hasn't left her room in months.
After everyone ate till they were ready to burst, Tommy pulled me outside.
"Bro, what's going on? Are you okay?"
Honestly, I'm shocked. I didn't think he would even notice. And even if he did, I was sure he wouldn't care. But everything has felt like an avalanche piling on top of me. And just the sincere question causes me to break my touch facade. I break down sobbing. "God fucking damn it" I mutter to myself and wipe my eyes, but the tears keep coming. In no time, I'm sobbing so hard I can barely breath. I hear Tommy sigh and pull me into his lap. He pulls me into a little ball and rocks me side to side. The joys of being tiny and having a little brother who's bigger than you, by quite a lot.

It took an eternity for me to quiet down. The whole time Tommy just shushed me and rocked me back and forth. Clearly, I don't give Tommy enough credit. He actually care. Not just on the surface, but genuinely cares. This makes me feel a little less alone.

"Bro, seriously, what's wrong?"
And it all came out like a title wave.
"I have nobody. I know I have you guys, but not really. I look after you, love and care for you, but I'm you're parent. Basically. I have nobody to talk to, to confide in, nobody to lift me up, or give me advice. Nobody to listen to me, or stand up for me. nobody who loves me or truly care. I'm utterly alone. Broken. Lost."
Tommy just sighed. "And what brought this up. You seemed to be handling all of this ok until yesterday. What happened?"
I turned and buried my face in his shoulder as more tears fell. "Tyler came to talk to me yesterday. I haven't talked to him in years. He was my best friend. My first love. And I've missed him so much. But when dad died I had to focus on you guys. And even though Tyler knew. He resented it. All my friends left me. And yesterday he found me. And made sure to let me know how disgusted he is with me being a whore, and having time to fuck around, when I didn't even have time for him. I pointed out that just because I had time at school for be fuck from time to time, in no way negates the fact that I have no time for relationships, friendships and the like. He just stormed off with a look of pure loathing. And I know I shouldn't give two shits what he thinks. Obviously he has no regard for my thoughts and opinions, so I shouldn't give him a moment of my time. But I just can't get those looks of disgust and loathing out of my mind. The one person I have loved more than anything. Utterly despises me." And I began sobbing again.
I wrapped my arms tight around Tommy's neck. Clinging to him like my only life line. He held me tight around my waist and began rocking me again.

Eventually, I cried myself to sleep.

I woke up early the next morning. My eyes still puffy. Tommy was in bed with me still holding me. In a very tangible way, he was trying to show me I wasn't alone. He had taken my shoes off, my we were still dressed in yesterday clothes.
It helped. I still felt disgusted with myself. I still hated myself. I still had all those negative emotions. But for once, I felt a little less alone. Maybe I did have someone besides Demi to talk to and confide in. I guess time would tell. I wouldn't force Tommy to be my confidant just because he showed support once. But if he was really offering, I would oblige. Lord knows I needed someone. Desperately.

The next couple days when I was home from work Tommy made an effort to talk to me and listen. It was all very sweet. So I humored him. I didn't expect him to stick around once school started back up, but it was still nice.

I'm pretty sure he knows I cut. He has glanced at my wrists a few times. He never says anything. But he get this look. Pity? Sadness? Pain? Idk. And honestly I don't want to. It will just annoy me and make me want to stop talking. Nobody wants pity. It's such a horrible, patronising emotion.
But he always pulls me on his lap and makes me talk. This new relationship dynamic is kind of frustrating. I'm supposed to be the big brother, damn it!!! But a secret part of me, really loves it. I love being curled in his big arms. It makes me feel safe, protected, loved. I am trying not to get attached. Because I know he'll get bored of me as soon as more interesting people are around. But I do sincerely love his tenderness and care. I'm scared I might love it too much. It's going to be a devastating blow when he forget about me next week. I'm becoming too dependant on him. I want to pull away, to protect myself. But I crave attention. Love. And as much as self preservation says don't get too attached. My heart just wont listen.