Sweetened Facade

Chapter Four

A Beacon School - It's Late

***

The cold water washed away any remaining dry tears. I opened the windows to my room to freshen up the stuffiness. I put on my running gear and eyed the clock. 

4:32 am

I sighed quietly as I stepped out of my room and into the ear piercing silence of the hallway. Everyone else was asleep, and I can verify that by the loud snoring coming from Alexa's room. I winced at the cold marble floor coming in contact with my bare feet. I made my way to the kitchen where I rooted through several cupboards to find my Pokémon beaker. After filling it up, I proceeded to put my shoes on, still wiping the tiredness from my eyes. A total of 40 minutes of sleep was all I needed. 

I'm sure I had a severe case of insomnia. I used to take tablets to help me cope, but ran out of a prescription and didn't want to bother anyone else. The only time I felt comfortable to sleep was when I was with Finn, making sure he was with me, that I had someone. I ran out of the house, swiftly cutting the wind with my long legs and moving arms. The feeling of the breeze washing over me was refreshing and cleansing. I felt energised to be running in the open.

The neighbourhood we lived in was sophisticated, everyone worried about their own appearance and their reputation. I hated it here. Everyone was insincere and I was tired of all their fake smiles. I always found myself running along the same trail; the path to my home. 

I used to live in a detached house, three estates over from the Bostick's house. The sun was now rising at a significant pace, the clouds swimming by gently. More and more cars filled the streets as I kept running and running, until I got to my destination. 

My home was tall and uncared for. The old rose bush Mum had planted had grown out of control and weeds infested what used to be our tulips. The gate was locked, but I always hopped over it. Our neighbourhood was sweet. I liked being here in the presence of my past, a sense of familiarity pulsed through my veins as I approached. I hopped over the rusting gate and crossed the driveway to the doormat. Christopher didn't know I still had this key, and I wouldn't dare let him know I had it. It was only the key to the back door anyway, and I had to hop over the wall to get to it. 

The back garden was haunting. Our wall murals were fading away under the weather. I saw that our apple tree was blooming. It grew taller and taller, until it was taller than me. I remember planting it with Mum on her birthday. She loved gardening and painting, and she always made sure to involve Finn and I whenever she could. I missed her.

I made my way to the door. The paint had been peeling away slowly. I quickly unlocked the door and stepped into the mud room. Everything was still intact, like we had been gone on holidays or something. All of this was mine but I couldn't take it until I was officially 18. Laws are annoying, especially when it involves age limits. I strolled casually through the kitchen and into the dining room. Mum's glass cabinet filled with her fine porcelain and own creations had accumulated dust over the last few weeks since I've last dusted it.

Most of the time I stayed here I sat in Mum and Dad's room, borrowing their clothes and crying on their bed. Finn's and I's things have been taken with us when we moved in with Christopher. All that was left of us here were our duvets and paintings. And of course Mum and Dad's memory. 

Spider webs lined the corners of the dining room and the living room. The living room was the coldest room in the house, primarily because of my memories of the days after their death. The fake cries and empty condolences from insincere strangers haunt me every time I walk in here. I still liked to walk past our old couch and Dad's proud souvenir cabinet. He collected souvenirs from all the places he went with Mum and all the business trips he'd been on. He put my Student of The Week award on display the day I gave it to him and it's been there ever since. 

I was fine. I bit back any tears as I shuffled out into the hallway and up the stairs. They creaked quietly as I neared the top. Mum and Dad's room was always bright, even on rainy days. We painted the walls together one rainy summer day, bright swirls of pinks, reds, yellows, oranges, and Finn's insistent green hand prints. Light poured in from the ceiling window as well as the window that overlooked the back garden. Mum used to always read her books on the ledge and look down on us playing with Dad in the garden. Those were the good days. 

I changed their bed sheets every so often, fluffing up their pillows and rearranging Dad's action figure collection. I used to admire all his Batman figurines in awe whenever he bought them and left them in their boxes. One time, I opened up his 1974 Batmobile and he nearly went nuts. Luckily Mum stepped in and pulled me away before he could say anything hurtful. My parents weren't perfect, but they loved me, and I love them.

Dad's suits remained intact on their hangers, stored away neatly. His house clothes were pressed into the drawers of his wardrobe. I often took his hoodies and shirts and wore them to school. Mum's clothes all retained their smell. I pulled her wardrobe open to reveal her colour-coded organisation. The scent of her sweet lavender perfume infiltrated the oxygen I was breathing in. I glanced at Dad's goofy Batman alarm clock. 

6:24

I quickly pulled on one of Dad's old hoodies and rooted through Mum's drawers to find her yellow raincoat. I slid them on and floated down the stair, out of the kitchen, out of the house. I locked the back door and hopped over the wall. The key was safe under the mat. Time for school.