Torn Pages

five| across the marble

Shaking my head in disappointment, I whispered, "What have you done to us?"

He chuckled. Actually chuckled. "Don't you see? I did what I did for us, Cupcake." he tried to come closer, but I only cowered away. A flash of fear was shown in his eyes, at the sight of his own daughter being afraid of him. But he didn't give up so easily. He came a bit closer and just when he was about to reach me, a hand grabbed his, harshly.

We both turned to look and it was a fuming Harlan. He had smeared blood on the side of his mouth, as he was gripping dad's hand, with so much force.

Then, in an icy voice, he spat, "Don't put your hands on her."

Dad snatched his hand away from Harlan's and looked back at me. With an eerie smile on his face, he said, "Cupcake–"

"Did you hit Harlan?" It bubbled from my lips, faster than I could stop it.

His sneer completely disappeared. "What?"

"Did you hit Harlan?" I repeated in a more stable and demanding tone. At first, I was too afraid to speak, in fear that my voice would break, completely. But I had to force steel into my words.

He glanced back to Harlan, who's face was bruising a little and his lips were cut up and still permanently in a deep frown. Then, he sighed, in defeat. He slowly nodded, not being able to speak.

I gasped, quietly. I'm not quite sure why I asked, when I knew the answer anyways. "You never hit us," I whispered. "Is this about what mom told us?"

He eyes widened slightly, before he screamed, "I did it for us! What else did you expect me to do?"

I stared at him, in absolute disbelief. "What do you mean? You could've found another job! Instead, you stole from mom's company, and do you know where that got her? Fired! Because of your mistake! But no, I should've seen it before, shouldn't I have? You've always been selfish. And don't care anyone else, but yourself!"

"How is that even remotely possible!" he shouted, spitting a little, while putting his finger towards the ground.

"When I first got injured, you didn't want me to go to therapy, no, you wanted me to sit in my room, like an idiot! You're narcissistic, dad!"

"Cupc–"

"Stop calling me calling me Cupcake!" I screeched, tears threatening to spill.

Mom muttered, "Just leave, Weston."

After a few stunned seconds of uncomfortable silence, he yelled, "I did everything for this family!" causing me to flinch. Then, he stormed towards the door and slammed it shut behind him. Mom couldn't hold it in anymore and broke down, all the way to the floor.

Harlan beat me to her, and began rubbing her shoulders. I followed him over and engulfed her in a hug, as silent and guilty tears spilled down my own cheeks.

I heard mom whimper, in the most heartbreakingly saddest voice ever, "What's happened to us?"

I kissed the top of her head, as she wailed, hard into my arms. She didn't deserve this. She lost her job and love of her life, due to his mistake. I felt so bad, because mom has been through so much, in this relationship, and she acted fine, like I couldn't see right through her. I didn't get why she tried to hide it, instead of opening up to someone, or talking to dad, but no. She wanted to take this stress on by herself, and that's not healthy.

I then looked at Harlan, who looked at me, and his eyes were red, puffy, and his tears were oozing with abandonment. He'd given up. He was finished.

I noticed it when I was younger. Harlan had always been my protector. The one person to comfort me, in so much condolence, it was almost overwhelming. But the only reason it was never actually crushing, is because I loved it. And needed it. Whenever I got into trouble or arguments with dad, or whenever mom was too tired to do the dishes and take out the trash, or if dad couldn't cook breakfast the next morning; Harlan would fix all of those things.