Olive Tree (WAIK Sequel)

Chapter 8 - "Beatrice!"

"What lead you to this?" Bea asked me, gripping my hand tightly.

"Another one of those dreams," I answered. "I had a realisation."

She raised her eyebrow, signalling for me to carry on.

"My dad new about me self harming, and the bullying," Her expression fell slightly, and I felt the grip on my hand get even stronger. "And I think that's the reason he gave up, because I did."

"You never really told me anything about your dad," She began speaking. "But from what I've heard he was a vile man, and gave up on his own accord."

I shook my head in disagreement. "My dad wasn't vile." I cleared my throat. "My dad shot himself when he found out about Fabian and Mum. He really did love her. With all of his vile heart."

"So then why did he wreck her life the way he did?"

"Because of the alcohol. It took control of the person he was. It didn't only give him anger problems, but he needed a new liver too. He was a good man somewhere beneath the alchoholic in which he was. The night he shot himself is still unclear to this day. Either because my glasses were trod apon, or it was just unclear. I didn't understand what was happening. It's like there was a mist I couldn't pass through. As I held Rose and Simon in my arms, the gun shot was fired and I just closed my eyes. I listened to Mum screaming for what seemed like forever. Then Fabian called the police. But that's only when I physically lost my father. I lost my father many times, actually. Everytime he beat my mum up with anything he could find. Everytime that toxic booze slithered down his throat, and made his liver worse. Everytime he'd promise to get better, when he only got worse. Everytime I'd get home from school and my mum was quivering underneath her sheets because he'd threatened to take me away from her and leave her with nothing. I haven't noticed, until now, that while my father was loosing himself to alcohol, I was loosing myself too."

"You're nothing like him if that's what you're trying to say." Bea bit her lip.

"I'm not saying we're alike. We're similar. Similar in a like father like son way. Not vile beast. We both give up too easily, and no matter who's in our life, we'll hurt ourselves more than anything. Whether it's a bully telling me I'm too different, that I'm confused and gay, or if it's Fabian telling my mum that he loved her. We hurt ourselves to protect others."

She wiped a tear away from her eye and rubbed my army slowly. "I'm so proud of you. We all are."

"Who wants breakfast?" I shouted at the top of my lungs. 

Rose and Simon bolted their hands up and followed me into the kitchen. I gave them both a bowl of Coco Pops with warm milk, and set them at the table to eat. 

Bea had left over an hour before they'd woken up, and I attempted several times to get back to sleep. Eventually, I waited for Rose and Simon to come and jump on me and signal it was time to get up and have breakfast.

As they ate, I texted Anne about the drinking game.

Me: Hey Anne, sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to make anyone upset. Call me asap :)

I hit send and slipped my phone in my pocket. If Simon or Rose saw my phone they'd instantly want to play a game, or run around the house taking pictures with their thumb in the way.

"Why does it take so long for Anne's baby to come?" Rose asked innocently.

"Babies take a long time to come to us because they're forever growing in women's stomachs until they're strong enough to face the outside world without they're mummy's help." I smiled.

"Can boys have children?" Simon questioned after swallowing a mouthful of his cereal.

"In some senses," I thought about it for several seconds. "They can have babies with other people."

"Why can't we have babies?" He crossed his arms in a huff as Rose stuck her tongue out at him.

"We're special!" She teased playfully.

I admired the situtation from a far. My little sister was currently proud that she was a girl, and that she wanted to have children, and that girls were special. But more importantly, Simon was throwing a tantrum because he couldn't carry a baby, or in our world, get pregnant.

"How are my favourite devils?" Anne came bursting in with two bags hooked onto her arms. Her stomach was rounding, and you could see that she was very much pregnant now.

"How much does it hurt to have a baby?" Simon asked her, avoiding the bags.

"Well-"

"A lot," I interrupted. "What has Anne got for you?"

I smiled as Anne gave my siblings tons of chocolates and various toys. They ran into the living room to do the puzzle she'd brought them, as we shared a glass of cola each.

"I got your text," She sipped through her straw. "It's not your fault. We heard from one of Beatrice's old school mates that you'd pressured her into sex. It was just the drink that came out."

"I know the feeling." I rolled my eyes and swirled the black, fizzy liquid around with my straw.

"Anyway," She collapsed her hand to her stomach and began stroking it. "How have you been?"

"I've been excellent," I lied through gritted teeth. "These flashbacks haven't stopped though."

"What flashbacks?" Anne asked, frozen.

"Well, they're nothing, it doesn't matter."

A few days past, and I couldn't help but worry about Bea's weight. It seemed she was leaving more and more food everytime we ate. I'd have finished by the time she'd even eaten a quarter, but even then she'd have been moaning for 5 minutes that she was full. I didn't want to say anything just in case it was just me being anxious.

"Bea?" I'd returned from work with a free bottle of wine, and wanted to share it with her over a DVD. I felt sentimental, okay? Don't look at me like that.

Again, I scowered the house for her. It was empty. I'd checked every room but the bathroom again, since it was on the end of the hall. But she wasn't on the scales. In fact, they were pushed towards the door. She was collapsed by the side of the toilet with sick all over her t-shirt and around her mouth. 

"Beatrice!" I yelled out and ran over.