Sometimes he loves me

CHAPTER 1

EMMA

Eight years ago

I sit up straight, startled when I hear the front door open and my dad's voice echoes through the house.
"I'm sick and tired of your shit!" His angry tone makes me shudder and I stand up, tensely looking at the living room door.
The front door shuts with a loud bang and the wind from outside rushes into the living room with a mixed smell of alcohol and my father's old leather jacket.
I glance at the clock hanging on the wall and see it's already midnight, so I quickly turn off the TV, knowing I'm not supposed to be up this late. Dad always gets so angry with me when I do. Well, not all the time. Only when it suits him, because sometimes he's too drunk to notice anyway.
"Then go! Leave. Just fucking leave!" my mother yells back and I can't help but hear the noticeable slur. I doubt they even see me standing before our old brown couch as they stumble into the living room.
My eyes shoot between them, both stupidly drunk while they try to keep themselves on their feet. Staggering and with bloodshot eyes, they continue their bickering right in front of me.
"You know what Tina? I will," he says and walks back towards the hallway, but my mom stops him and grabs his arm.
"Where are you going?" my mom asks while my dad tries to yank himself free from her grasp. She attempts to hold him tighter as she lets herself fall to the ground and gets a hold of his leg when he starts walking towards the front door.
"I'm going to jump in front of a fucking train." Even though my dad has said those words so many times, my heart still drops into my stomach when I hear him say it yet again. Mom always stops him, but I truly wonder if he'd really do it if she'd just let him walk away.
"No you will not! You can't do that to Emma! You can't do that to me. You have a family Mike."
I slowly step into their view. "Mom? Dad?" I say cautiously, but they don't hear me, too caught up in their daily fight.
"I'm done with you! I never wanted to have kids, you knew that. I've told you many times I didn't want a family life and you still forced me into it by secretly going off birth control." He gets louder with every word that comes from his lips. He tangles his coarse fingers in her long black hair and tries to pull her off him.
"You were there when you fucked me, weren't you?" she spits, digging her nails into his hand. Their loud voices are getting more unbearable the longer I watch them.
"Stop arguing!" I suddenly hear myself scream as I press my hands to my ears to muffle their voices. My ears start ringing until I can only hear my own heartbeat. My dad's gaze darts from my mom to me and lets go of her hair. Familiar tears are already flowing down my cheeks as my parents look at me for the first time since they came home.
"Emma..." I hear my mom say, but I'm already running up the stairs two steps at a time by the time her desperate voice reaches me.
As soon as I enter my bedroom, I throw myself onto my bed and start crying into my pillow. They always do this. Fight over nothing and they're always drunk. I'm so tired of having to put up with this almost every day. Why do they feel the need to drink this much? 
A few sobs later, I hear a soft knock on my bedroom window and look up to see Finn, the boy from next door, waving at me. Stifling a sob, I crawl off my bed and walk over to my window to open it.
"Hey you," he says, smiling from underneath his hoodie. I can hardly see his eyes.
"Hey," I reply, wiping my face. Despite my tears, I already feel safer with him here.
"I saw your mom and dad come home just now," he says cautiously awaiting my response.
"They're drunk again." I try to hide the sadness in my voice. He already knew that though. That's why he's here to check up on me. He always does. Unlike my parents who have never ever checked up on me after one of their fights. They don't even notice that I'm gone most of the nights when I'm staying at Finn's house. At least then I won't hear them yelling and the sounds of glass shattering.
"I figured. Want to come over and sleep at my place again?" he asks.
I nod and he reaches his hand out to me to help me climb through my window. I barely feel the cold flat roof underneath my bare feet as I follow him to his room, the voices inside my head already quieting.
I look at the burning cigarette we pass that indicates he was secretly smoking again. I don't get why he does it. It's gross and it stinks and he told me a while ago that his mom doesn't like it. Although I'm still curious, I just ask him, "What's it like, to smoke I mean?"
"You'll hate it." He pulls his half closed curtain aside to let me climb through first and the warmth of his room instantly hits my skin. "And don't even think about trying it, you're too young." He looks at me in a way only a protective brother could. Even if he's just my neighbour, we've known each other since they moved here six years ago. He's been there for me and helped me ever since.
"You're only five years older than me," I say and feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. There is just something about Finn that always makes me smile or calms me down no matter what happens.
"My point exactly." He closes his window and blows hot air into his hands.
"I know you feel old enough. I did too when I was your age, but you're not."
"Okay dad." I laugh and let my gaze sweep over his empty walls when I look around his room. "Where did all your posters go?"
"My dad ripped them off the wall. He thinks I'm too old for them." He shrugs like it doesn't phase him at all. I watch his expression instantly go cold and feel my own smile disappear too, knowing he stopped caring a while ago. I wish I could be as strong as him.
I don't know what to say and just stare at the empty walls. He loved those posters, some of which he got from me. Eminem, Pierce the Veil, Linkin Park and so many more. Is fifteen really too old?
"Are you all right?" he interrupts my thoughts while walking over to his bed and grabbing the mattress that lays underneath. It was the first thing he bought with the money he got from his first job a year ago, so he could sleep comfortably instead of on the floor on nights like this. We managed to sleep on his small bed together when I was six and he was eleven, but we both got bigger. Him especially.
"Yes." I look up to his concerned gaze.
"It's okay you know, if you're not," he says reassuringly and grabs a blanket for himself and one more for me. He knows I'm always cold at night and that I prefer to sleep underneath two instead of one.    
"I'm used to it." I sit on his bed and cross my legs, looking at my hands that have almost stopped trembling completely. Finn is like my rock and beacon in the dark, always there to protect me and my body knows it. My nerves immediately calm down when I'm near him.
"Well—" He turns his back to me and takes off his hoodie, accidentally taking his t-shirt with it, revealing parts of the scars on his back. Fresh marks cover the old ones, making me nauseous that he has to endure that. "You shouldn't be," he continues and turns back to me. He then straightens his t-shirt and throws his hoodie on a chair. I look up at his face, now fully visible.
"Did— Did your dad do that?" My own sorrow is completely forgotten while I look at his black eye and I wince.
"Don't worry Emma, I'm used to it," he replies absentmindedly.
"Well, you shouldn't be," I say, mocking his earlier response and looking at him with a fake stern face that makes him grin.
"Fair enough." He lays down on the mattress next to his bed, putting a hand behind his head.
"What happened?" He rarely tells me and always keeps things vague since he doesn't want me to be worried about it, but I keep asking anyway.
"The same as always. He beats my mom or Andras and I couldn't just stand there and do nothing."
I know he couldn't. Even though his brother Andras is seventeen and can manage himself, Finn is the type of boy to help even if he'll lose.
I lay down on my back and roll to my side to look down at him. He's lost in his own thoughts and stares at the ceiling. I couldn't imagine him mad or fighting. He's always so calm and thoughtful in my presence and always serious or laughing, but never mad.
His onyx coloured eyes dart to mine. "Why didn't you come to me when your parents started fighting?" 
"I wanted to, but— I don't know. I just didn't want to bother you since it's Friday night. I thought maybe you wanted to go out with friends." my voice quiets down with each word.
"I told you to come over when your parents fight," he notes. "I don't want you to be in the middle of that."
My dried up tears have left my eyes burning and tired.
"I know," I say softly as my mind wanders off to my quarrelling parents. I hope my mom doesn't get hurt, but I've played referee often enough. They don't listen to me anyway...
Finn's voice breaks my thoughts. "I have something for you." He sits up and grabs something from underneath his bed. "Happy 11th birthday," he says and hands me a tiny black box.
I sit up to take the small box from him. "You remembered," I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
A small smile tugs at his lips. "I always do, don't I?"
He does. Even my parents forgot that it's my birthday today.
I broadly smile at him before opening the box. My mouth drops when I see a golden necklace with a charm inside. I carefully take the necklace out between two fingers and look at the pendant.
"It's a little moon," I say with a smile.
"I know how much you love the moon." He comes up and takes the necklace from me to help me put it around my neck. He then sits back on his own mattress.
"Thank you. I love it."
We both lay back down and put the covers over ourselves. I don't want the morning to come. I have this awful gut feeling that everything will change, so I silently play with the pendant in my fingers. I fight my fatigue until my eyes slowly close and I can't help but fall asleep.