after the sun sets

Chapter 4

The tree

Not today.

He raises his hand before me. A flash reflects in his eyes. A flash that I'm too used to.

Not today.

I stop breathing. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the inevitable; but it never comes.

When I open my eyes I see his body moving in the living room. He presses his hands on the kitchen bench, he pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights up the cigarette that hangs out of his mouth. His bearing takes up so much space that I feel as if there isn't left enough oxygen for me to breathe. His red eyes give away the fact that he was drinking and his tatty green t-shirt is tucked up. His chapped lips are moving but I hear nothing.

"I said leave" he hisses.

I exhale in relief before I exit the room.. My heart beats faster than I believe it could. I close the door behind me and stare at the carvings and the paintings on the door. My dad and I have made this door, together, every door in my house.

My house. Not my home. Just a house, just a building where I sleep at night and get bitten the rest of the day. It used to be a warm, full of love place. Everything that would break or get damaged would be instantly fixed. Now, everything broken remains broken, everything damaged remains damaged, including our hearts.

Flowers cover my room's walls. Violet, pink and light blue is spread all over them. The brushes with which I drew them are still in the purple pot on my dusty white desk, unused for years.

Above my bed there's a window. A tree dominates on the grass outside. It is there since I can remember myself. They aren't few the times that I cried resting my back on its trunk or that I laughed out loud while hanging from its branches. Most times I would just sit there and think, other times I would hide in its foliage and sometimes I would climb the tree and spent my whole day up there observing the world, being mad at my dad and mad at my self; and the nights I would climb down the tree, run in my house and burry my head in my dad's arms, begging him silently to protect me.

For a long long time I thought that this tree was somehow my mother and I was crying every time a leaf would fall. I thought this was happening because I had failed her. And then my brother came and he told me I was stupid and that that's just how trees do when it's autumn. But even after that, it took me quite some time to realize it myself that this was just a tree like the others, that this tree wasn't my mother. But, the minute I realized it, I also realized how alone and lonely I really was. Till then, it actually made sense in my mind to hang out with a tree. If another child had ever approached me I'm sure I probably shooed him away. I was thinking that by hanging out with someone else, I would betray my mother.

I never understood why I was thinking that this tree wasn't just a tree, or what pushed me to associate it with my mother. It might have been its beauty. My dad always used to say how beautiful my mother was. Or it may have been my pure unbridled need to feel like I have a mother. Even like that.

I start ironing some clothes. Mostly mine and my brother's. My dad haven't changed his white stained flannel and his grey trousers since he was fired (which is quite a while ago). I finish foldind the last t-shirt when I hear my brother's voice shouting from the other side of the door.

"You don't understand dad! We're broke! Or did you think that I and Crystal could make enough money to make ends meet for three people? For fuck's sake. You only consume!"

"Don't talk to me like that, boy. You don't want to make me angry."

"I'm done with you! I'm out of here and this time for good" Tom says and then I hear a door crashing.