Desolate - h.s. ✓

° four °

     For whatever reason, I decided I wanted to take up running again.  Track wasn't for me, and I found that out when I tried out last year during the winter season.  Oddly enough, I enjoyed it though.  It let me forget about most things I wouldn't normally, and I usually felt really good afterward.  Today was the third day this week I had decided to run, but I was nearing my house, seeing that both of my parents' cars were in the driveway.   Walking up to the house, I unlocked the door, frowning when I opened it.  There was yelling coming from upstairs, my dad saying that  something was unfair.  I figured he was just ranting at Ethan for not doing something right.  Or, I thought that until I heard my mother start shouting back at him.  It was strange, especially since she was normally a very happy person.  Not to mention that her voice sounded like it was breaking. 

"... you don't get it, Nancy! You don't.  I get so sick and tired of you acting like you're joking, and then you get so fucking angry when—" 

"Maybe I wasn't joking, but I wasn't serious either.  It isn't even that bad.  People joke about kids all the time!"  

"Do you see me laughing? I'm not laughing at this, Nancy!" 

"Stop saying my name like that," she yelled back.  "I don't use your name every other sentence, Benjamin." 

"Fuck, I'm going to my mom's.  I can't fucking stand you right now." 

I heard my mom asking him to stay the evening. It was sad, especially since she sounded like she was pleading with him. It wasn't long until I heard the sound of my father coming down the stairs, my eyes quickly searching for a place to hide from him.  I was stuck by the door currently, not sure where I should go, or if I should hide to act like I hadn't heard anything.  Though it seemed like it was too late because my father stopped. He stared at me for a long moment, a duffel bag on his shoulder. It was obvious to me that he was upset, but my mother was crying at the top of the steps. I felt awkward, to say the least, realizing that they certainly didn't want to do this in front of me but it was too late.

"Are you really leaving?" I asked calmly.

"Just for tonight, sweetheart," my dad said, smiling at me. "Not any longer."

"You'll be back?" I questioned. "You'll be here tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course." 

Nodding slowly, I stepped aside from the door, allowing my father room to leave.  However, it was then that the door swung open, Ethan walking in with his backpack over one shoulder, and his duffle bag over the other.  Harry wasn't behind him as I figured he would be, though Ethan looked worried, glancing over the whole situation. 

"What did you do?" 

"What did I do?" my father scoffed. 

"Mom doesn't just cry," Ethan stated, a little harder than normal.  "What did you do?" 

"I didn't do any—" 

"Don't lie to me.  If you cheated on her, I'll beat the shit out of you, Dad." 

"I didn't.  I wouldn't.  We're just fighting."

Ethan looked skeptical, but my mother nodded.  He stepped aside, letting my father walk out the door, before slamming it behind him.  My brother locked the door, dropping his stuff, and moving to my mother to hug her.  She started crying against him, appearing not to care that he was definitely sweaty, and gross, asking when he became such a sweet boy.  I just stared at them, confused myself at the boy standing with my mother. 

"I'm going to shower," I stated, heading up the stairs.  "I'll be back down in a bit." 

"Dammit, I need to shower," Ethan groaned, taking his baseball hat off.  "Let me go first, I'm faster."