Suffocate

Chapter 25

A clinging little nine-year-old and a quiet, platinum-blonde eleven-year-old, both sitting comfortably in my lap, brings an overwhelming amount of satisfaction and tranquility to wash over me. The stress and undeniable frustration I have felt for the past couple of years suddenly seems to diminish in the presence of these two girls, including the other two lying comfortably on either side of me on our beat-up, leather couch.

The TV is playing some cartoon, though I'm not paying any attention to the show. My mind is currently occupied by the fact that I'm home alone with my sisters, feeling most at peace than I've ever felt before.

Mom is not home. She hasn't stayed home very long, not since she was approached by those same policemen from the hospital. They had taken her in for questioning. That was a few days ago, after I was discharged from the hospital.

I already knew that Mom didn't know what was going on between Dad and I. She was brought in because the police suspected her of aiding Dad in his activities. They figured Mom wasn't a part of his schemes; yet, when it came down to the important things, such as caring for her children, they came to the same conclusion as me: Mom is as disengaged as Dad is when it comes to appropriate parenting.

What with being negligent and unconcerned for another person's wellbeing other than her own; that got her into some trouble.

Anyways, Mom was shellshocked when she was told. She was completely speechless. The woman hasn't looked me in the eye and refuses to say anything, besides a "Hey, baby" to Rona and a "G'Night" to the girls—and that's only if she's feeling affectionate.

The current predicament has made her disoriented. I don't know where she goes after her work shifts are over, but I can care less, right now. My priorities no longer associate themselves with her.

Speaking of priorities, the twins have decided to stay here and be with us. Their plans were to live with Dad, next door . . . but seeing as he's out of the picture, for good, this time, they made their own decision.

Kailum spoke to me yesterday about him wanting the girls and I to move into Henrique's house with him and Kade. There's enough room for all of us—I know that, for sure—what with there being four-plus amount of bedrooms and a hell of a living space.

Kade agreed that we will be better off if we were all together again. It's weird to say—nearly not the right thing to say at all—because, we were never together. All these years, it has been "Bryson and his four sisters".

Kade suggested living together will bring us closer. "Maybe we'll find some way to better reconnect," is what he said. I've already noticed that we started doing that, but I'd been denying that fact; because, for the longest time, I've loathed my brothers just as much as I did my father. Imagine how hard it is to accept them back into my life again, after they've been absent for most of it.

Though, in spite of everything that has happened, I have witnessed them change and transform into actual, caring human beings. Astonishing. I know.

How did that happen? I don't have a clue.

The bajillion decisions running rampant in my mind is undoubtedly enough to give me an excruciatingly, painful headache.

Do I want to live in the same house as the twins again? Are they really going to be different, this time around? What is the gain in all of this? I can't help but bombard myself with such demanding questions.

A soft pat to my chest pulls me out of my clouded state of mind. I meet the eyes of my youngest sister, Verona.

I nudge at her forehead with my chin. "Yeah, Rona?" I murmur. Rona stares at me with concern etched in her smooth features. The way her brows crease and her eyes narrow looks unnatural to me, because she rarely ever expresses such emotion. Only recently has she become more aware of the things going on in our family, and it's all my fault.

Verona drags her small hand up to my cheek, tenderly squishing my skin together. She does so to my other cheek, cupping my face in her hands, yet again instilling her apprehensiveness through eye contact.

"Are you okay, Brycie?" she asks, her voice small and sorrowful. The glossy look in her eyes urges me to break eye contact, but with the strength I should've had long ago, I withstand my ground, giving her my full attention.

I run my hand along the back of her purple, frilly dress shirt. Her silky, long hair brushes alongside my arm when I adjust my hold on her.

With a shake of my head, I smile down at her. "No," I reply softly. Rona's eyes widen. She nods, suddenly bringing her arms to wrap around my neck. She stays careful not to hit Ashley on my other side. Verona brings her head down against my shoulder, snuggling into me.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I kiss the top of her head, snuggling her back.

"I love you, guys," I mumble under my breath, though loud enough for my sisters to hear.

Rustling from my other side, I steer my silver gaze to Ashley. With childlike innocence, my sister's eyes widen, full of wonder and shy curiosity. Ashley grips onto my shirt, bundling up the cloth tightly, causing wrinkles to formulate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ashley asks solemnly. Nuzzling my cheek against her soft, blonde hair, Ashley elicits a minute huff of a laugh.

Releasing a sigh with the intention of brushing off all tension from my body, I regard my younger siblings with a firm grip around their arms.

"Maybe another time," I answer promisingly, recommencing in the solace of my sisters' comforting presence.

With a tired sigh, I lay my head back against the couch's cushions.

I won't lie to you guys anymore.