In The End

Chapter Six- Octavian

I sparred with my uncle, days later. Taking out any emotion that I had bottle for the week out. Anger, frustration, fear, and grief. I was mourning a person who was still living. Though it felt like she had already died, she moved like a ghost throughout the house. Never speaking more than three words, always the same three words.

I stayed in my room, not daring to leave the house with her in this state. She was barely lucid, and I had reason to believe that my father hadn't noticed. Or been home the past few days. He had shown up just as my uncle was leaving. A slight nod was the only indication he gave that he had even noticed us in the same room. I hadn't seen him since.

I thought back to the day after that dinner. I had gone to the girl's house, learned her name was Rowan. She was quiet unlike her father who talked the entire time I was there. She reminded me of my mother. From that feeling alone I knew she was who I needed to help me organize my thoughts and research.

"Octavian!" My eyes whipped towards my uncle, my chest heaving. "I have been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. It's time for you to go home."

I nodded, every time I went home these past few days, I prayed that my mother was still alive. The doctors had said she had a week but those predictions were never accurate. I ran home, my heart almost beating out of my chest at the anxiety clawing at it. The worst emotion to try and control. It had a mind of its own, especially when it came to my mother. Whenever I got home these few days, she's been on the couch reading or gazing out the window at the sun. Now I looked at the sun, just starting to color the sky. I knocked lightly at our front door before opening it. She was on the couch, but not sitting up. Keeled over, vomit on the floor but no raggedy breath coming out. I placed my hand on her shoulder before lifting her up, her eyes open but no life in them.

I picked up the book she had been reading, how to say goodbye, "looks like you didn't need it," I bitterly spoke as I threw it to the floor. I went upstairs to my bedroom, grabbing one of my bigger bags on the way. I packed clothes, notes, books, pencils, and whatever else I thought I needed. There was no way that I was staying here with her dead body. What was I supposed to do, wait until my father came back? That wasn't going to happen.

Before I left, I went back over to her. In the same position that I had left her. She still smelled like her, kissing her forehead I tasted salt. Must be the sweat that comes when throwing up. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. "Goodbye mom, I love you." I walked out the door and closed it softly, acting like she was in a deep sleep.

The sun had now fully set, but the lights kept the street walkable as I made my way to my uncles. His house was not far from mine but the walk seemed to go on forever I thought about my mother's eyes. Once full of life now the color of a rainless cloudy sky. And my father had no idea that she was gone or what he had done.

The knock on my uncle's door felt strange, but the look on his face was one I was expecting. The pity, and his own grief was reflected onto me. The question swam through his eyes, to which I just nodded and pushed my through. I was ready for bed. Going to the bedroom that I slept in whenever I had come over was the same as it always was. I dropped my bag on the floor and mindlessly got into the bed. A sleepless night was what I expected as I closed my eyes.

. . . . . . .

The next morning was much brighter than I thought it would be. And the fact that I had slept was what I thought on my way down to the table. My mother's eyes stared at me from my uncle's face, I rubbed my palm over my eyes already wanting to go back to my room.

"Has my father stopped by?" I hated small talk, there was no point to it and my uncle knew this.

"No, from what I have gathered from some of the other guards he has taken to sleeping in his office at the castle."

Shaking my head I grabbed a plate, "unbelievable."

This wasn't the first time my father had gotten his head so far up his boss's ass that he had to sleep in his office. Long ago had I realized that he would choose his work over his own son if the choice had to be made. It was a hard reality to face but it was not hard to accept. He had shown me where I stood. Proving that my uncle was more of a father figure than he would ever be.

I could feel my uncles' eyes on me as I walked up the stairs, but I couldn't get all the way before there was a knocking at the door. I stopped as I heard my uncle go to open the door, and was turned around as I heard a rough, "Octavian."

"Father, to what do I owe the pleasure?" My voice was dripping with menace, tempting him to blow.

"Why did you not come to my work and tell me that your mother had passed?"

"Why would I?"

"She is my wife, that's why. And you are my responsibilities not uncles name or have you forgotten you are my son." His eyes burned into mine, daring me to make the first step into a fight.

"She was my mother, and I went here because I knew I would get the comfort I needed after losing her. As he had lost his sister," It was a low blow, hurting his ego but it was what he had come to deserve.

"What comfort would you need? You probably didn't cry when she died," his sneer made me want to throw up.

"The comfort of someone who just lost the person who loved them the most." I had slowly been coming back down the stairs as the conversation continued. Meeting his stare straight on, no longer cowering to him like I had as a child.

"Her funeral will be tomorrow, don't be late." With that he slammed the door.

"Octavian... don't let what he says-" His sad his eyes made my blood boil.

"Get to me, I know. I'm off." Mirroring my actions earlier, I went back up the stairs to change. I was going to meet Rowan at the library near her house to see what information was there. The books were shoved into my bag, along with any notes that had been thrown around. I tried to keep my uncles guest bedroom clean but with my plan unfolding I had let cleanliness get away from me.