Adopted

Love Hurts; Loving Hurts More.

Is it November 1st already? No? Oh well... I forgot to see the calendar. :P

So yes. I have exams going on but I couldn't stop myself from finishing this chapter and publishing it.

It's soon but I was getting restless.
So there you are. Please do tell me if you liked it. ^-^

~~~~~

~Peter's POV ~

A buzz sounded and I clicked the phone on.

A message from dad?

I opened it to a long paragraph that made my heart skip. It was Maya. She seemed to have typed in hurry as all the spellings were wrong. I read it as I lay on the bed. I didn't want to. I was angry with her. It's probably an apology letter that she'd written and I didn't want to read it.

It had been almost an entire century and she thought of texting me only now? Well, maybe she was having fun with her new sister and father. And she always did want a sister rather than a brother. She'd said that so many times when she was younger and maybe now that he dream was coming true, she wasn't going to bother about her brother.

But a part of me protested with full force and might, that it wasn't possible and that she did love me. And I mean , even though it had been hours since she left, she did send a message right? It wasn't like she hates me.

I couldn't keep myself from reading it because it was from my little sister after all.

My body reacted according to the pace in which I read. From lying down and grieving for most of the day, I was actually moving my body.

My head spun and my heart raced. I was sitting on my bed, wearing my shorts and nothing else. I ran around the place searching for my shirt.

I admit I'd been seriously pissed at my little sister for behaving like that. She hadn't respected. She had been rude to me and hurt me. I didn't stop her from leaving. But I hadn't even said bye.

I admit I felt bad to have done that but I was hurt myself. But my little sister was freaking threatened to death!

A part of me hurt that she was being selfish and only caring about herself but then it hit me that it was her life she was caring about. Even I wouldn't have thought of fights that were unsettled.

I found a shirt that was decent looking and slipped it on. I went downstairs to find dad on the table.

His hands were on his head and his body moved like he was crying.
He probably got the same message.

I went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He immediately got up and fell into my arms. I held him as he cried. I felt the guilt that he was feeling. I heard him cry for the first time after mom.

I still remember when mom had died and I was just 4. It was weird. I didn't even know what had happened and my dad was sitting in a far corner of the room and weeping. I remember going to him and feeling the urge to cry just because he was.

Once I grew up and I finally found out what death was (though I'm still not certain), I understood why dad had been like that.

I had been able to at least reduce the pain by being with him all these years but the case was different. Mom was never coming back.

But Tara? She was there. She could come back. But how could I bring her back now? What would I say to dad to make him feel better?

I sat him at the table again and kneeled down beside him. His back slouched down as he dug his face into his hands. I wrapped my arms around him and he slowly pushed his head onto my shoulder.