The Forgotten One

Chapter 2 - Daddy's Home

"Caro, hurry up and put the plates on the table!" I shout in desperation, already hearing the car pull up in the driveway.

Caroline grabs the plates and hurriedly lays them around the table, along with cutlery and some glasses.

"Milla, the drinks and the food!" I yell at her as I empty vegetables into a decorative bowl.

Camilla hefts the Sunday lamb roast platter and potatoes into the middle of the table and hurries back to the kitchen to get the drinks.

She lays out a bottle of water for us and our mother, before placing a can of beer at the end of the table; the place where our father always sits.

I sprint around to the table with the bowl of vegetables and a jug of gravy, before hastily laying out napkins on the plates.

I turn back to Caro and Milla.

"Okay, everything is done! Everyone on the table, now!" I say before we all run to the table and plonk ourselves down, just as the key is inserted into the lock and the door is swung open.

Daddy's home.

We all sit upright and brush imaginary dust off our legs, then place our hands politely in our laps. It was our standard routine at dinner time.

Stay silent, do nothing unless asked to.

Our father's heavy steps thunder through the hallway and I can hear him throw his briefcase loudly against a wall as he yells to himself. My sisters flinch at the sudden noise. This is not good. He's had a bad day at work.

I glance up at Milla and Caro, who are both trembling slightly.

I reach under the table and grab their hands, offering what comfort and reassurance I can. They minutely flick their eyes up at me and provide a small smile of relief. I smile back at them before moving my hands back into my lap as our father appears in the dining room doorway.

He stares at us for a minute, and I make sure I do not make eye contact.

He stomps over to the table and takes his place at the end of the table. I sit at the other end, Milla and Caro sit opposite each other, and our mother sits next to Milla.

Our mother...

Oh, shit.

Milla and Caro come to the same realization as me, and their heads shoot upwards to face me in fear.

We forgot to wake her up.

I glance quickly at our father, and he's already glaring at me with harsh black eyes.

"Why isn't she at the table?" He growls menacingly.

I swallow carefully before speaking.

"I forgot to wake her." I reply smoothly.

His glare deepens and he clenches his fists beside his plate.

"Well then, I suggest you hurry the fuck up and get her." He spits at me.

I slide my chair out and stand up, steadying my shaky legs as I walk out of the dining room and head up the stairs.

I enter my mother's bedroom and see her lying on the bed, her limbs sprawled everywhere.

I rummage through the crap on the floor and gather a pile of clean clothes for her, knowing she'll need to shower before dinner.

I walk over and shake her shoulders.

"Wake up mother, it's time for dinner. Wake up." I say and she rouses hazily beneath my hands.

Her head rolls to face me and her eyes groggily open.