Call Me Six

17: 'Don't Appologise, Just Do It Right' -Tobias

TOBIAS-

The familiar Disney soundtrack is playing loud once again as Sophie lectures Zeke on how to properly drink tea.

"You have to stick your pinkie finger out, Zeke - like this, see."

He fumbleds awkwardly with the plastic cup as Uriah and I try to mask our laughter with a round of spluttering coughs to avoid a lecture ourselves from the young girl currently sprinkling glitter in Zeke's hair.

"Honestly, how are you ever gonna be a princess when you chug down your tea, Ezekiel?"

"I'm sorry," he mutterd and took another slug of it.

"Don't apologise, just do it right," she said and hopped across the room to where I was sat. "Toby, you can drink tea properly - I taught you last year - so show Zeke how it's done."

"Yeah, Toby," Uriah sneered, "show my idiotic brother how it's done."

"Shush, Uri, you're the worst at drinking like a princess; you choked five minutes ago."

His laughter halts and the smirk on his face drops. "Sophie, my feelings are really hurt," he says and dramatically pulls his hand to his chest. "That was an innocent mistake that could have happened to anyone."

"But it happened to you."

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Rude language!" She screeched and threw a handful of glitter in his face.

~

After two hours of trying to clean up all of the glitter and spilt tea from Sophie's room, Zeke and Uriah decided that it was time to go home. Halfway through tidying up, Soph fell asleep so is now spread out on her bed as tiny snores escape her.

"Goodnight, Soph," I whisper and plant a soft kiss on her forehead before tiptoeing out of her room.

It's strange how silent the house is... When I was young, I used to dread the night; it was always filled with screams.

But now, I think the silence scares me even more. The uncertainty of when he'll return causes every creak of the floorboard to set panic running through my veins.

She used to scream all night - and I'd sit there; waiting for it to stop.

But then again, some nights would only end when the sun rose. Like my father only ever reserved his anger during daylight; when he was at work; when everyone thought we were normal; when I'd put on the mask and take part in this wretched charade.

A car pulls up outside.

The door flies open.

His booming voice breaks the silence.

"Son."

I've changed my mind. I prefer the silence.

"Fetch my spare briefcase from upstairs," he instructs and I hastily obey.

It's like I have no control - my legs simply carry me to my destination and with the same power they possess return me to stand before my father.

"We're moving to London."

"What-"

"Not you, you little swine; Janice and I," he says and claps me over the back before digging through his pocket, only to pull out an envelope. "Okay, let's see... The mortgage has been paid off, the house has been signed over to your name and here's your trust fund account information," he says and hands over the envelope whilst I stand there in shock, trying to process anything that's happening right now.

His phone rings.

"Hello?" he answers and picks up his briefcase and walks back through the door. "We're doin' it, baby. I'm finally kid-free."

The car pulls off the driveway.

The silence returns.

But this time, the silence is filled with relief.