Family

THIRTY SEVEN

Just a figment of my imagination

Present || Leo

I woke again hours later, unfortunately. The sun shines brightly outside, light burning down onto my face through the open windows. Sometimes I wonder, is it ever painful for the sun to shine so bright? Does it ever feel empty inside like me.

Hopeless.

Yet the difference between the sun and me, is that one has a purpose. Me? I'm nothing.

Groaning, I rubbed my eyes tiredly before whimpering at the jolt of pain shooting through my arms.

"Forgot I did that." I mumble, throwing the covers off me.

"Did what?" A cold voice pipes up from the doorway.

My body automatically stills at the voice and I hesitantly raise my eyes. My eyes widen a slight fraction, both of his hands are wrapped in heaps of bandages, dried blood staining them. His eyes look even worse, his entire right eye all puffed up and purple.

"What did you do you little-" He pauses, seeming to think over his words before rolling his eyes and stalking towards me in long, quick strides.

"What did you do Leo?" He asks, not able to meet my eyes.

"Nothing." I whisper, fiddling with the sleeves of my hoodie slowly.

Alfonzo sighs in exasperation," Dad wants you downstairs." He glanced at the clock," Was about an hour ago he said."

I stumble out of the bed and speed walk to the door, desperate to not have a repeat of what happened the last time I was late.

Too hasty in wanting to be quick, I failed to realise the small clang against the floorboards as I exited the room, leaving a confused Alfonzo behind me.

Glancing at the clock in the empty hallway, my eyes widen a fraction at the time. It's four in the afternoon! Did i really sleep that long?

Beauty sleep is important, a voice cooed from the back of my mind.

"Shut up." I mumble.

That's not very nice, we're your friends, it whines.

I choose not to reply, rushing down the stairs only to bump into a hard chest. Glancing down at me, father skims me over. He doesn't seem to be mad. 

"I was just about to get you Leo." Father says, his face hidden of any emotion.

"Um I'm s-sorry I d-"

A gentle pat on my head cuts me off," Did you enjoy your sleep? You slept for quite a while, I couldn't bring myself to wake you." A small smile plays out on his lips," You looked so at ease."

Father turns around and walks into the kitchen, me following behind him and choosing not to reply to his statement.

What would I even say?

Sometimes sleeping is the only way out and sometimes it's the reason for my nightmares. Nothing is ever equally balanced for me.

"Have a seat." He nods to one of the tall stools next to the kitchen island.

Hesitantly, I walk towards one of the stools and attempt to hoist myself up.

Keyword attempt.

A small pout makes its way onto my face, why am I so short?

My arms grip the top of the table and I push myself up, only to release my hold on the table at the stinging sensation that follows.

My skin screams in pain, I can practically feel the blood flowing like a waterfall.