little blue suitcase ; e. dolan

6 : dinner

ethan grant dolan

✿   august 16th 2017   ✿

+ 7:25pm

a plate is set in front of me and i lift my fork up, but don't move it further.

"ethan, please eat your dinner." my mother says without looking at me. she just continues serving the rest of the family.

"i'm not hungry." tonight, my mother insisted that i eat dinner at the table. she wasn't in a good mood at all. she was sober and embarrassed. she hasn't stopped going off her head about lola since the day i lost it at her.

"we are worried about you, son. we want you to be able to talk to us. we want you to be healthy and do well in school." my dad spoke calmly, he was the only right minded one in this family.

"i said i wasn't hungry." but i am too stubborn to listen. i didn't want to be here. it felt wrong sitting at the table with a family i barely even knew anymore and an empty chair right next to me.

"you're going to eat. and we're going to discuss your recent behaviour. we know it's been hard for you-

"no." i interrupt. "you don't know how hard it's been for me. you barely pay attention. you don't understand what it's like." my eyes are slightly squinted.

"ethan, please cooperate. we're all trying to have a discussion." my sister pitches in, not that she's at all relevant to the conversation.

"we want to make it clear that your way of acting out is not acceptable. treating people who care about you badly is not on. lola is a friend and you should learn to be respectful and kind to her." my mum tells me. i'm already fired up, just by the mention of her name.

"a friend? a friend? how can you call her a friend if she pretended to care about us and then left us when we needed help. how can you sit there and defend her?" my hands push myself up from the table and the rest of the family look up to me. "you know what? i'm not dealing with this right now." i push my hands back before walking away from the table.

"oh you never want to deal with anything, do you ethan?" i hear my mother complain, but i continue walking out with a roll of my eyes.

"ethan? ethan, come back, please." my dad calls me with a calm tone, making me almost stop in my tracks and go back. i would have if my mother and sister weren't sitting at that table. instead, i continue walking until i have opened the front door and stepped outside.

my feet take me down the street along the road and it's not until i hear fast footsteps behind me that i stop. i turn my head to see my father jogging towards me.

"please stop, ethan. can you come inside and we can all talk? as a family?" he says when he reaches me.

"a family? what family? that's not a family!" i slightly yell. i feel my muscles tensing and my body heating up. my right fist tightens with anger.

"come on, ethan. i want to help you." he looks at me with sad eyes. they show pain as they beg for me to let him in.

but i can't. i won't.

"y-you can't help me. no one can."

"yes they can. there's always people that can help you. especially me." he places his hand on my shoulder but i use my other arm to peel him away and step back.

"no." i say in a whisper. we stand in silence as his gaze darts from my left and right eyes, his brain ticking.

"this is killing me too, ethan." he finally speaks up. "i know this is tearing you apart, and it's doing the same to me." i look down, avoiding his eyes.

"do you think i haven't realised how you've changed. that you've stopped sleeping? eating less? lost interest in school? that you leave during the middle of the night? that you somehow get your hands on alcohol and take it to the lake? i know what you're doing. you're trying to cope. i'm trying to cope too. that's why we need to help each other. trust each other." i'm slightly taken back that after all this time, i hadn't been very good at trying to hide my new lifestyle, but i didn't let it show on my face.

"do you trust me, ethan?" he has somehow managed to lock eyes with me and now i cannot look away. there's hurt there, all i can see is sadness. but i don't see pity.

"y-yeah."

"okay, that's good. why don't we go for a walk? let's head to the lake?"

"n-no. i don't want to." i shake my head lightly, looking away.

"no? you always loved that place. you visit all the time, don't you?"

"we loved that place, dad." i say and he only sighs under his breathe.

i feel my right fist curl into a tighter ball as i think about how much we loved going to the lake. how all these memories will end up fading away, and there will be no one here to remind me of them because the one person who experienced them with me, is gone.

i feel my short nails dig further into my palm. it's like a defence mechanism. my body shuts down and i put up a barrier from other people. i close in just like the way my fist does. it's a horrible habit.

"ethan?" i get knocked out of my trance and look up at my father who, by the looks of it, has been calling my name for a while. "talk to me. i can see all the wheels in your brain going nuts."

i open my mouth to speak, but i am unable to make any sound. i want to talk to him. to open up to him. i want my dad back. i want him to be there for me. but i never know why it's so difficult to let people in.

i realise that i have spoken enough about my feelings, ignoring the fact that i have just contradicted myself.

"i can't."

+

wAow, after five months i bring back yet another shitty chapter. hope y'all enjoyed because you're probably gonna have to wait a while for another one. but i have thought more about this plot and have more ideas now so that's good i guess. okay bye