𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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I sit at the kitchen table with everyone the evening before George's fight. Winter, Blake, Primrose, Theo—everyone's here apart from Matilda, my sister, mum and dad. My minds elsewhere, though. My head isn't in this kitchen.
I'm vaguely aware of the overlapping conversations, clattering of plates and cutlery, Princess yapping in Astrid's arm. I can hear it all. Smell the food, feel the hand on my thigh yet, I'm not really here. I'm far, far away on a little island surrounded by nothing. Just me, breathing manually, staring, living, being.
"—I think George isn't going to win," Primrose declares from her seat between her parents. "I think he's gonna get so banged up we won't even recognise him."
"I think me and Primrose share an opinion on the latter," Winter raises her eyebrows.
George rolls his eyes, "Well, can't exactly back out now, can I?"
"I'm joking!" Primrose puts her hands up, pulling a face. "I think you'll win because you're a bit like Dad—all big and weird and strong and scary."
"I scare you?" Blake laughs, looking at his daughter.
"No, but you know what I mean," Primrose jumps down from her seat, going over to Astrid to stroke the Pomeranian.
George squeezes my thigh, getting up from the table. I smile over at Primrose and Astrid, wish it was Matilda for Primrose's sake. Wish she had a better relationship with her sister. Hurts me a bit, knowing they probably won't.
"Is this thing real?" Beau stands in the middle of the kitchen, holding up the biggest rifle I've ever seen, he hangs the strap around his neck, barely able to hold it up with his two arms.
"Fucking hell," George darts across the kitchen just as Blake stands up. "Don't fucking pick shit up that ain't yours, Beau!" He takes the gun out of his hand, slapping him on the back of the head.
Carter sinks into his seat, pissing himself. Princess jumps out of Astrid's arms, toddling out of the kitchen.
"Who's is it? Is it yours?" Beau wonders, following George out of the room. "Have you got more? I wanna see more!"
"Oh my god," Primrose mutters, turning to face her mum. "Was that really his?"
I'm shocked at her question. I knew the girls were sheltered from it all but this much?
"He's not going to hurt anyone," Winter assures, stroking her head.
"What's he doing leaving that laying about? Fucking idiot," Blake shakes his head, pinning Albie with a look. He just shrugs.
"Does he kill people?" Primrose wails, throwing her arms around Winter's neck. "Is he gonna kill me?"
Albie slaps Carter in the stomach, both of them trying not to completely lose it. Blake just sits there, sipping his whiskey. I sort of just sit and watch it all happen. Normally I would've said something, comforted her in some way but I just can't. I can't find the energy. I can't move from my seat.
