Before it ends

Hello, not so stranger...

I woke up late, I could feel the laziness of all Saturdays somehow creeping up on me. 12:00 the best time to wake up. My phone lay on my bedside table, there were no notifications, definition: no texts from Hayley.

"Hey are you awake?" a small tap vibrated on my wooden door. The voice was all to familiar, it was Emily's 'this takes a lot of pride I'm going to say sorry now' voice.

"No." I heard her sigh from behind the door and rest her forehead against the frame.

"Don't be like that. Please Ryan. I was just trying to give you my honest opinion. I know your mad but it's not like I would force you into doing anything. It was just a suggestion." Everything she did, she tried to justify. From running away, to taking his side with her little 'suggestion'. "Ryan?" she pushed open my door and stepped inside.

"Knock much?"

"Ha-ha. Funny man."

"You know I'm not mad at you for 'suggesting.' I'm mad because you took his side. You have always taken his side, you just don't want to admit it. It's your worst fear, and the clearest reality: you are more like dad then you want to be." I almost spat the words at her. I meant them, I meant every word, and I think that's what scared me. The level of contempt I had for my own blood, it was exactly what I was running from.

"You don't mean that. You're just mad, I'm nothing like dad." She turned around to leave my room, her head was down and I could tell she was hurt. Emily never wore her heart in her chest, or on her sleeve, it lay behind her eyes and every emotion could be seen through them.

"Are you going for a run? I know that's what you do when things get hard, when dad gets brought up, or hell when your brother has the shit beaten out of him every fucking day."

"Ryan I-" she turned around before she left. Her eyes were laced with tears and I couldn't look at her properly.

"Yeah I know. You're sorry."

"Yeah." Her back was to me now and I didn't need to see her face to know she was sincere. I knew she meant her apology, but it didn't erase the past. The past I told myself to forget. The past I forgave her for- or wanted to.

********

"Finally, down?" mum sat at the kitchen table. Emily was at the other end, her eyes were puffy and red, she wore leggings and a small top. Her running outfit.

"So what? Is there a chance tomorrow I could walk down these stairs and see my father sipping coffee?"

"Now let's talk about this- "

"That's what I'm doing. I am talking, and that's exactly what you should have done with me before my father. Why is it that everyone is determined to have a great life and just forget? I can't forget. I have scars I have to look at every day, that make sure I can't forget."

"He's found us, he's off the police force and I-he just- he called and I didn't know who it was at first. Your dad said he wants to meet you, he wants to talk. He knows where we are." She paused slightly and took a deep breath. Almost as if she was hurting more, she divorced the guy, she was free when I wasn't- but somehow poor mother was the victim when not a finger had ever been laid on her. Never.

"I didn't tell him our address he just knows. He gave me his word he wouldn't come if you weren't ready- but it's more than you, he wants his family back."

"Wow."

"Yes, I know it's a lot to handle- "

"The abuse of your child taught you nothing. His word, you still trust his word. I understood at first, I get you never knew. I get for the first couple of months you didn't visit, I get you didn't care. You didn't try. But you know me mum, and for so long you believed I actually hated you."