Behind Closed Doors ✔️

3

The fire was already lit by the time I got to the field. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my coat and looked around the park, trying to find my family.

Then, I spot them near the back, my mum and dad huddled close to Thomas as they watch the bonfire and the multiple people from our community shouting and hollering. I grin and make my way towards them, tightly wrapped in layers of clothing and a scarf around my neck. As it's the winter time, and England's winters are non-stop for a whole year, my family and I always save up in the summer to buy extra clothing to keep warm.

I walk over to them and mum smiles as she sees me, pulling me into her side. "How was work, darling?" She asked, kissing the side of my head. "It was fucking chomped out at the launderettes today, so I had a lot to do." She rolls her eyes, and I grin, even though the choppy wind hurts my cheeks.

I knew the tip of my nose was red from the cold, and it urged me to pull my thick, woolly scarf a little over my chin to keep my face warm. "It was alright." I shrugged my shoulders. "Got pinched again." I glance at her as her eyes widen in anger.

"Was it that fucking thug, again?" She spits, and something I love about my family is how open we are. We don't have secrets from each other, and if something happens to one of us, it happens to all of us. "I swear to God, his mother needs to knock him around the head to knock some damn sense into him. Fucking dickhead." She grumbles, and I wrap my hand around her bicep, squeezing slightly.

"It's alright." I laughed, shaking my head. "He'll probably end up in juvie." I say, and mum looks at me before she runs her fingers through my hair.

"Was it just one of them this time?" She asked, and I shook my head.

"No." Is all I say. Then, the bonfire starts to get rowdy. The fire rises and there's more whooping and cheering as people begin to throw random papers and shit into the flames. I watch as dad kneels down and picks something up from next to his feet and walks forward.

My eyes divert to Tom, and I walk towards him, resting my elbow on his shoulder. "This is fun." I sigh, and he chuckles, ruffling my hair. "Fuck you." I huff.

"It's just hair, mate." He laughs, and I push him away from me, making his chuckle turn into loud laughter. "What happened with Barbosa?" He asked, and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my coat-cladded chest.

"Fuck all." I answer, bored. "He'll be back, that's all I know."

"You should start kicking his ass. You work out, so use some of that to beat the shit out of him." Thomas shrugs, and I grimace.

"You seriously think I have a chance against fucking Barbosa? That's like flogging a dead horse." I say, and Tom huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Daft cow." He mumbles.

"Cunt."

"You got a fag?" Tom asked, and I quickly pulled out the cigarette packet and lighter from my pocket, handing one cig over to my older brother and keeping one for myself. I light the end before giving the lighter to Thomas.

We're both walking towards the bonfire when I look around and spot a group of slightly older men, watching on and cackling with each other.

I've been questioning things about myself recently, and this is just another part of that questioning. One catches my eye, and even though he's not looking towards me and it's not very bright, the light from the fire shines onto his face and all his features are prominent. A sharp jawline. A full beard. Dark eyes and long eyelashes. A long, straight nose. Dirty, messy hair.

The sound of multiple police sirens pulls me out of my thoughts, and my eyes widen. I dropped my half-used cigarette onto the ground and stood on it, putting it out. My dad grabs my arm and then all four of us are running, trying to get home before the police get here.

A loud laugh leaves my throat at the thrill of running around and fucking over the government all the time. I can't get rid of the grin on my face, and I follow after my parents as we go to the alleyway that leads to the back of our house. Then, we're pulling ourselves over the wall, falling onto the small space that we call our back garden.

I breathe heavily, my hand on my stomach as I get some much needed air into my lungs. Me and Tom laugh again, covering our mouths to keep the noise down. "Oh my days." I whisper, staring up at the dark sky. The stars were shining down on the four of us, and I can't help but smile.

My family may not be the richest and we may sometimes be on the verge of being homeless, but I'm surrounded by people who love me, and that is worth more to me than any amount of money.