Stroked

-Chapter 14-

-Chapter 14-

-Oliver-

On our way back from the path the riders seem tired, even more than the horses carrying all of the body weight and packs. Amy keeps swaying back and forth, probably on the verge of sleep, and I'm afraid she'll fall off onto the rocky path. I try to tighten my legs around her a little more, so that won't happen.

I spot the mansion and the ranch up ahead and nudge my elbow on Amy's back, keeping my hands busy with controlling the horse, which has slowed its pace. Diana and Mark still have their lead ahead of us all. They look like they've had their fair share of horseback riding in the past, everyone's got a special knack for something.

I'd say mine is art, or more specifically: painting, but that would be telling a lie. I might be somewhat famous in New York City, but I'm not even close to worldwide fame. Nobody would pay thousands for my art. Although, I don't paint and sculpt for the financial benefits either. I do what I do because I enjoy it, it makes me happy, and it is rather calming. Matt might think I'm stupid for choosing the silly career path, but he's not doing much better with his life right now. He spends his night on my couch after all.

"Amy, we're here." I nudge her again and she shoots awake all of a sudden, from her previous zoning out.

She's actually quite peaceful when she's not alive and skipping around worried about things, but can I blame her for being worried?

She's had to put up with Josh for quite some time and the family doesn't exactly help from what I've come to witness from them. They expect so much from her and if she slips they will crack and slip as well, together.

My parents have been divorced for a couple of years so I've grown to be dependent on myself and I try to look after Matt and teach him a new perspective and the things I look for in life, but it's a work in progress. After his one night stands and the divorce he's taken to beating himself up about it and blaming everything on himself as well.

I don't know why, they divorced because my father worked too many nights far too long into the mornings and he never spent a day with my mother or his kids. He also came home drunk sometimes because of the hard work piling up and I think Matt eventually picked up on his habits; like father like son.

When I told my parents I wanted to be an artist when I was a young boy my mother was a bit skeptical but my father thought I was a pansy and a closet gay. He always nagged me about paintbrushes and my sculptures from high school art classes, but as I got older he realized my seriousness about the whole thing and finally became a little proud of me, but he still can't get over it, even now.

My mother lives in a good part of New Jersey and has a boyfriend who helps her cook little, quaint home meals. My mother's sunken low, retired, and has become a stay at home type of woman but her boyfriend Anthony takes good care of her so I can't complain; he's also a killer suit wearer with good gelled hair.

Matt doesn't really like the guy because he doesn't want a replacement father by any means but it's not like we socialize with our parents anyways, we've found ourselves busy with pairing and drinks and keeping each other somewhat straight.

Well, not really when you think about it, not anymore.

I've let Matt sleep on my couch for months, drinking away his dignity and memories and then Matt's let me go to a wedding of a girl who's practically a stranger to me cousin. We've looked past the weirdness for the most part on both subjects.

Besides the parents and the somewhat looking after each other we don't really have any other family besides a pair of grandparents we only see on special holidays events and our Aunt Elizabeth and her son Jeffery who's eight. They've sent their Christmas cards and blessings, but that's about it.