arescere ✿ xavier thorpe

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40- the mother he never knew

"uh wednesday?" tyler speaks alone in his kitchen, the line in which mere seconds ago held wednesday addams went dead.

"ty? what did i tell you? come on bud, steer clear of wednesday addams. she's messing with belfiore. she's the kind of girl who's going to get you hurt, and so will being around him." his father speaks, the boy spins on his heel. turning to find his father, stripping himself from his heavy coat. the badge glistening in the lowering sun. 

"believe me, i know the type." he speaks again, whispering past his son who stood dumbly in the living room.

"is that supposed to be about mum? of course not. that would require you to actually talk about her. and why bring up peter? you don't know him." he snaps, following his father's movements with his eyes. the moment stung between them. when sheriff galpin looked to his son, and it stung. he saw her. he saw so much of her in tyler, franciose features staring back at them. those fucking belfiore dead eyes.

"i know his type." sheriff hisses at his child, pulling back from his daydream.

"peculiars?" he questioned, his features shuffled into a confused look. eyebrows bringing together.

"freaks, like your mother." the man speaks. his tone harsh, cold.

"no. i can't deal with this right now. i gotta get to the hospital, i gotta check on the mayor." mr galpin speaks again, his tone much softer than before. turning away from his son, sick of seeing those belfiore eyes.

"did you ever even love her?" tyler whispers. his tone soft as well. hurt. like he didn't even want to know the answer as he glanced to the picture of the wall. the beautiful scared women smiling back at him.

"more than you could ever know."

"so why.." tyler inquired of his father, he wanted to be cruel to the man. but he couldn't find the heart too.

"cause she's just like the rest of those fucking belfiore's." and those words stung in tyler's mind. long after he'd left back up the stairs, long after he'd showered, done his hair and pick out a cleaner shirt. the rest of those fucking belfiores. the rest. it plague him. like a shadow lurking in the shadows. the rest of them. and he found himself glancing to the hatch to the loft. the attic seemingly calling his name. he knew his father would be gone for ages. and he reached at the hatch, pulling it open. the dark above seemingly making him feel smaller. he had never been in the loft. the attic had never crossed his mind till now. clicking a torch on he stared above for a moment. the stairs looking untouched by age. the contents of the loft were what one would expect from a home. boxes of baby toys, old hobbies and clothes that no longer fit. suitcases and travel bags. and books stacked, pictures books some looked like. but then he found one, that looked more touched then others. instead of neatly pilled this one book rested on top of a trunk. a trunk which was old and used. letters printed on the beige leather. f.p.b. he reaches for the photo book first. 'the life of f.p.b' printed on this too. he holds his breath as he opens to the introduce page.

'franciose petunia belfiore' written in the nicest handwriting ever. fpb. francoise galpin was francoise belfiore. tyler'smother was a belfiore. he stared at the page. disbelief evident on his face alongside anger and pure shock. he flipped to the next page. two young kids standing together, bright smiles arms in arms. the girl had unruly curly hair and a bright smile. the boy had dark hair slicked back with a grin evident on his features too.

'fran and will's first day at elvale primary school' he continued to flick through the pictures. watching the girl, his mother grow up. pictures with friends at sleepovers. she looks happy, he watched her grow taller then the brother. and then he flipped the next page. the girls twelfth birthday, she sat smiling. looking happier then he had ever seen her in photos. and the next picture was labelled the same day. but the girl no longer looked like she did before. her hair was more wild. her eyes scared. nails digging into wood and eyes crazed. it was like something had snapped. it felt surreal to him. this poor little girl would grow up to the beloved and no longer present mother. he watched his mother through the next stage in her life. a nevermore student. he would have never have guessed that francoise belfiore was a nevermore student. the more he looked at the photos. the more he saw peter reflection in william belfiore. the bos spitting images of the other. minus william had a colder gaze. that only got icer as he grew. spiking up in height and no longer gelling his hair back. william belfiore was handsome. ad smart apparently accord to all the pictures of the boy holding up awards. and then randomly the next picture. the girls face was scared. a clawmark like scar running across her face. dated almost a whole year after the last. something in the girl had changed, she looked crazy. insane. out of it. and this look continued for another year in photos. until it was a date picture. the women was sparkling. grinning ear to ear. completely adoring the ma holding her. and tyler found himself looking at his mother and father. both ruthlessly i love with the other. his heart ached. she looked so happy. he watched her continue to sparkle at his side. 'HE PROPOSED!' was what the next picture was labelled. it had pictures of the couple smiling holding one another. a picture of the most gorgeous flowery ring. pink and white confetti. and a printed boat ticket. he had proposed on a boat. tyler found himself grinning as he watched his mothers stomach round after the wedding photos. that was him. he could tell by the little entries she started to write in the corners. labelling scans.

'my baby boy'

'my sweet tyler'

his heart no longer ached, it burnt. it was aflamed. he felt tears prick at his eyes. watching as he grew and she faded away. the pictures are fading too, a lot less than before. before they full stopped. the last picture of her she laid in a hospital bed. looking ever so beautiful lying peacefully. tyler had never known how his mother died. his dad had refused to tell gim. tyler wasn't a idiot, he could see the scars on his mother.  and he sobbed. hugging the book to his chest. not even bothering to be quiet as he felt all those years of not knowing cascade down on him. an hour passed, his eyes stung and his chest still felt wounded when he turned to the trunk. it was empty, aside from a letter to donovan. he could see the dry tears and ripped corners. he wouldn't read that. it wasn't his to read. that was for his dad. but here in the chest laid an old nevermore uniform. instead of the purple he knew off, it was a lot more royal blue. it had school book with notes scribbled in corners. he found himself staring down at the remains of his mother's life that he had no idea about.