Pray Before the Dawn

Chapter Six

Chris skipped all the way back to the car. He couldn't believe his luck, and every few minutes he'd look back to the fence gleefully. Had he finally a friend? No, it couldn't be true.

Once he was near the car he banged relentlessly on the window so his dad would unlock it. Anthony was attempting to wipe away the mud from Dylan's football kit that had marked the back seats of the car.

"I've had this car for only two weeks" Anthony scowled, "and you've already made a mess of it!"

Dylan was too busy munching on a donut to respond.

"Dad, Dad!" Chris shouted from outside the car as he wrapped himself with his arms to keep himself warm. Clambering in, he spilt the news at the speed of light. "There's a new boy and I think he's my friend! Dad, Dylan!"

Anthony could see the dried blood from an obvious nosebleed, and a more few marks and scruffs to his skin and uniform that joined the pre-existing collection. For once, though, that didn't seem to faze his son.

"His name is Jonny and he likes U2 and he sat next to me!" Chris almost sung, beaming into the sunset. Maybe he could see him and point him out for his Dad. Maybe he'd wave back and everyone would know that he was his friend. He'd prove to everyone around that someone actually liked him.

"Speak of the devil," Chris whispered, recognising the tall boy on the horizon. He began to bang on the window, until he noticed something. The tall boy was talking to a group of others. Chris instantly recognised them, and he sunk dejectedly into the car chair.

Wasn't he stupid? Of course Jonny didn't want to be his friend. That would be too good to be true.

"Chris?" Dylan asked, noticing his brothers change in attitude as they bopped along the country roads. Chris didn't respond.

"Hey, Chris" Dylan tried to reach out to him, but Chris smacked him away aggressively.

"Christopher!" Snarled Anthony, pulling over to a lay-by on the side of the road. He knew Chris had a rough time, but he couldn't let him do whatever he wanted. If Dylan wasn't allowed to hit Chris, Chris wasn't allowed to hit Dylan.

"What did you do that for?" Anthony tried to assert his authority as a parent, but things went from bad to worse.

"No wonder nobody likes you" Dylan sulked, trying to get his own back at his brother.

Chris tried to clamber into the back seat. He was seething with rage and his hands were clenched as fists.

"Go on," Dylan egged him on like a fight on the playground, "smack me again I dare you."

Anthony grabbed onto Chris' collar and pulled him back.

"Just be quiet the both of you."

When Anthony finally arrived at the house, he grabbed hold of Chris' wrist tightly and led him into the house. Dylan traipsed behind them, his head bowed. He knew that they were both in very big trouble. Still, when they were told to sit down next to each other, they began to scrap once more.

After a stern lecture, both Chris and Dylan were told to go to their rooms until dinnertime. Chris had his vinyl collection taken off him, and Dylan had his video games removed for the next three hours.

Later that evening, perhaps two hours into both boys being grounded, Anthony decided to pay Chris a visit.

Chris was hiding under his covers. Everything was only slightly lit up by the sun suffocated behind the closed curtains. The light was switched off.