Ablaze

05

Thankfully, the rest of the time spent in the dining room went by without incident.

Zayn remained silent while Niall, Liam, and Louis seemed engaged in some sort of a lively debate.

Their words blurred together as I floated in and out of cognizance.

My body would detach itself as if floating above everyone in the room. Up there, I could swim around undisturbed. Nothing was real, and I felt no emotional or physical pain.

Then, I was forced back into my physical self.

I looked at the ceiling, willing my soul to leave, float through the roof and never return, leaving my physical body as nothing more than a shell.

The longer I stared at the ceiling, the more my vision blurred, everything condensing into one blob.

The snippets of their conversations meant nothing to me, and I could barely comprehend what they were arguing about.

Guns, cocaine, money, none of it sparked an interest within me.

These were all words I had heard before, during a normal conversation at the dinner table with my Father.

After Zayn's comment, I had barely touched my food. The little appetite I did have had evaporated into thin air. I was terrified I would do something else to upset them, and I didn't trust myself to not be stupid.

I lowered my head from staring at the ceiling, a sigh leaving my lips, willing for this situation to be over.

Harry's motives were strange, and I couldn't understand his thought process. I was a prisoner on the grounds of treason. So, bringing me to a 'family' dinner was an odd move, especially if I could hear every word of their conversation.

If my Father didn't want me to listen, he would speak Spanish to my Brother. I hadn't been allowed to learn the language after taking some lessons as a child. So, seeing the boys unbothered to conceal their words just exacerbated the perplexity.

Turning my gaze on Harry, I almost rolled my eyes as I watched him smoke while eating. The cherry of his cigarette brightened as he inhaled harshly.

Noticing my stare, he turned to look at me, his eyebrow quirked. A silent question, questioning what I was gaping at.

Shrugging, I turned my attention back to my food, willing myself to eat something.

Tentatively, I grabbed my knife and fork, stabbing a potato covered in gravy before slowly taking a bite. The food itself was excellent and actually tasted like real food. Still, the process of chewing and swallowing made me want to gag.

I felt drained and unable to formulate or rationalize my emotions. I tried to understand what I was feeling, knowing I should be feeling something, but I was met with a brick wall.

It was blocking me from actually absorbing what was happening around me. Even my Mother's death didn't seem to resonate with me. The event itself felt oddly fake like it had never actually happened.

Something I just conjured up in my head.

I cut off a piece of chicken, nibbling at it, my mouth feeling dry.

Did I just dream of everything that happened yesterday?

What was reality?

I didn't believe I could even trust myself or my recollection of the events.

If someone asked me what my Mother looked like, I could tell you she was blonde with brown eyes, but I couldn't visualize her. Only her glassy eyes bored into mine, staring at me as the life drained out of them.