Open Eyes (Phan)

Twenty One

Dan

They were fighting again. I could hear their shouts and harsh words drifting up the staircase and under my door.

I hum, trying to distract myself from what was ensuing downstairs.

I glance up to where Adrian sits on my bed across from me. We are playing a board game.

Another distraction.

He moves his piece across the board. His eyes are glossed over and empty.

"I know." I say. His brown eyes flickered up to meet mine.

"I hate this." His voice is cold. Distant.

Dad hasn't been home in three days. Mom isn't much better.

"Me too," I agree. I pick up a card and move my piece back three spaces.

"Why do they stay at work so much?"

"They're avoiding each other. They hate fighting as much as we hate it."

My six year old brother sighs heavily.

This was a routine. Our parents did everything they could to stay away from the other. But once in a while, they were home at the same time. It was like they couldn't stand to be near each other without lashing out.

The shouting had stopped. Which meant one of them had left. Or both of them. It doesn't matter.

Adrian moves his piece. Whether he had noticed the lack of shouting or not, I couldn't tell.

I let out a sigh and lean back in my bed.

"What time is it?" He asks.

I glance at the clock on the wall that hangs above my door. He hasn't learned how to read a clock yet.

"Almost 10:30. We should get to bed. We both have school tomorrow." I tell him.

He nods with a blank expression and helps me pack up the game. Most six year olds would protest or cry or do whatever six year olds do when they're told to go to bed. But I think he wanted to be alone as much as I did. There's something satisfying about wallowing in self pity in the dark.

It makes me sad that Adrain knows what that kind of satisfaction feels like.

But I don't like hiding our reality from him. Our lives suck. There's no point in trying to pretend they don't.

I walk him to his room and tuck him into bed. I kiss his forehead gently.

"I'll wake you up in the morning." I tell him. He blinks in reply.

I start to turn away and leave when he calls my name.

"Dan?" His voice is small and quiet and it makes my heart ache. His big brown eyes pull at the chords in my chest. In my throat.

"Yeah?"

"Does it ever get easier?"

I didn't have to ask what he meant. That made my stomach drop further.

"I'll let you know." I say with a sad smile. And with that I turn again and leave, shutting the door softly behind me.

And once in the safety of my own room, with the door locked and the lights switched off, I lost any self control my invisible limbs had been holding onto.