Demolition Lovers

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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                After a short talk with my dad and another rib-crushing hug, he heads off to bed and I’m left alone in the small basement. I don’t feel even remotely tired, something I’m very accustomed with at this point. Rather than mirror the actions of my father, I head to my bedroom to change into clean, dry clothes. I shut the door quietly so as not to wake him, and begin to peel away the layers of soaked clothing from my ice-cold skin. When I’m left in just my hoodie, I hesitate to remove it. It’s not like anyone is around to see what lies beneath its cotton confines, but I take a paranoid glance around my band poster-littered room anyways. I take a deep breath, as if I were preparing for some great feat rather than taking a sweater off, and yank the black garment over my head and toss it in the laundry hamper.

                I search through my haphazardly arranged closet for something comfortable to wear. I settle on a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and a baggy Pink Floyd shirt that my dad gave to me for my birthday last year. I wander out into the abandoned living room and sit down heavily in my dad’s recliner. I reach for the television remote on the coffee table, and notice something on the shelf underneath the top of the table: a faded photograph of my family, encased in an old and cracked frame from back when my mother and father were still together. I pick it up with equal measures of curiosity and dislike. This is the only picture I’ve seen of my mother in over 3 years. Any other photos with her in them were burnt by my dad, my uncle and I on a camping trip. My dad said it was to get rid of “bad mojo”, but I considered it a final “fuck you”. I can’t help but wonder why this one is still hanging around, so I take a closer look.

The photo is slightly blurry, taken by myself with shaky toddler hands. The scene shows my mom sitting beside a lake, feeding ducks. She looks roughly 10 years younger here than she would be today. I smile as I notice my dad in the background, chasing my little sister around with our dog, Buddy. I feel tears building for the second time that evening, but push them away quickly. I never realized how much I missed my baby sister. I had been blinded by my anger towards my mother for such a long time; it overrode any kind of longing or sadness. I gently brush my thumb over the dusty glass that sits above my sister’s smiling face.

Madison Bella Sutherland: Soft dirty blonde waves of hair that fell to her shoulders, a sun kissed complexion with rosy cheeks, and the cutest smile you could imagine. She was so stubborn, but incredibly kind hearted at the same time. The last time I saw her, she was ten years old. So young and naïve it was almost painful. I was only twelve at the time, but thinking back on it, I was far older. I had always been more mature than other kids my age, and grew up quickly. When our parents told us about the divorce, I tried to explain to her what it meant when mommy and daddy didn’t want to be married anymore, but she merely laughed her childish little giggle and called me silly. Mommies and daddies didn’t say things like that. I wish I could have made her understand; make her see what her loving mother was doing behind our family’s backs.

I snap out of my small episode and set the photograph back down, no longer wanting to explore buried emotions. I switch the TV on, and it starts up with a small click and an odd little buzzing sound, as all televisions do. I scroll through the channels looking for something to keep my attention. After nearly five minutes of channel surfing, I’m fed up with searching. I hop up and head over to the DVD stand that sits next to the TV and grab my all-time favorite: the Lord of The Rings trilogy, extended edition. I could care less if you think I’m nerdy for loving these movies. They are the best! Plus, Orlando Bloom makes for a gorgeous Legolas. I pop in the first disk of Fellowship of The Ring, and curl up in the chair with a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around me. I watch the first few scenes intently, but slowly begin to doze off after a half hour. Before long, I’m asleep, and fall into the clutches of my hungry nightmares that have been waiting eagerly to tear apart my sanity.