Revive (Book Two)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Grime

I lit my smoke as I swung the door open with great force, pissed off and walking away from the nonsense. A beer can whipped at the back of my head, having me almost choke on my cigarette.

Rage built inside as I turned around and faced him. "Piss off," I warned, stepping closer to him.

"Elias, get the fuck back in the house now," My father countered. He had a look in his eye, one I've seen many times. His patience was running thin and his final warning was bleeding through his teeth.

I glared at him. "What're you going to do?" I laughed and held my hands out. "Throw a punch in public where the neighbours can see you?" I relit my smoke.

His laugh shook me to my core. The final warning.

My hands were visibly shaking at the sight, but I refused to let my face show any emotion. In reality, I didn't know how to feel. My eyes travelled to the crushed beer cans on the yellowed, weeded lawn. It smelled like piss, and there was broken glass on the walkway up to the stairs.

The house. This was the root to all of my nightmares. I breathed in a large breath. The bricks were dulled and literally falling apart. The cement holding it together, couldn't contain the secrets that resided inside anymore. I breathed out slowly.

The door still had that dent in it from many years ago. It was the same size as my head, and it reminded me of great pain. My skull almost vibrated from the memory of it all.

I wiped my hands on my black jeans.

There was aggressive grunting from the living room that had me rolling my eyes. I tip toed towards the kitchen to avoid being caught. I hadn't eaten since lunch time the day before due to him being in a bad mood, and the last thing I wanted to do was disrupt him while he was getting his frustrations out.

I slowly opened the creaking, sticky cabinet and grabbed a bowl. Reaching in the yellow stained fridge, I grabbed the milk. It expired two days ago but it still smelled good enough. I dumped cereal in the bowl and reached for a spoon. Successful, I turned around and was met with him, having me immediately drop my spoon on the floor. The silence of the house, met with the loud drop of cutlery was enough to deafen someone.

"Like what you see?" He grinned when my eyes glanced toward the naked woman across the room standing in front of the couch.

"I wasn't..."

"What are you, some kind of fag, boy?" He frowned.

"No," I looked away from my father and toward the spoon.

"Look at her, kid," He demanded.

I mustered up the strength and looked back at her.

My father grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the living room.

My glazed eyes focused back on the dirty house in front of me. This wasn't real.

Aria was quiet, very quiet. She didn't touch me either, which I much preferred. I wasn't sure what my instincts would do if she attempted to comfort me with her soft touch. It wouldn't be pretty, that's for sure.

I cleared my phlegmy throat. "This is it," I murmured quietly.

She looked to me, but I didn't look back. My eyes were trained, focused on the house. "So this is where you grew up..." She softly spoke.

I closed my eyes, finally ripping my eyes away from the nightmare and towards her. She was a walking daydream. "You should go," I muttered. "I already have the hotel room booked."