Zephaniah // z.m

Forty eight

Zayn

There was nothing to do. Everything was cleaned up, the dishwasher was already emptied, the chairs were back on it's usual places, the wrapping paper was all thrown away. And that all mainly done by Hannah, which I was super grateful for.

I always hated to clean up a day after, it felt like I was hungover myself after such a busy day. I had always been a kind of reserved and quiet boy. Once I had a very busy day, only being around people, I needed my own time in my own room back at home.

I'd write, I'd read, or just lay in bed, listening to music while thinking through the day. It wasn't like I didn't enjoy being around people, it was just that alone time for myself was very important to me.

Busy school days and then my sisters bicker over something unnecessary at dinner time, it always annoyed me for some reasons.

Zephaniah was still asleep, so I lied down on the couch and stared at his presents on the small table beside me. I wondered if Hannah had given him something- not that I expected her to, really, because she had given him things without a reason before- but if she did, what did she give him?

Eight years. I honestly still couldn't believe it. There had changed so much in all those eight years and it seemed like ages ago he was born because of all the drama yet it also felt like yesterday.

Would Lexi know it was his birthday yesterday? She would, right? Because even if she hadn't ever celebrated one, she gave birth to him. She couldn't forget that, could she?

Why am I even thinking about her?

I sighed and played with my bracelet, staring up at the ceiling. I'll never forget the way my father looked at me after the first night Zephaniah slept at home.

He had cried almost all night long, keeping every family member up in my house, my father forcing me out of bed every hour to try and comfort my baby.

I was young. I was a teenager. I was inexperienced. How do I know what's the right temperature of the milk? When do I know if he's hungry or sad when he's crying? What is the right way to change a nappy? How do I bathe such a tiny and fragile body?

My friends were out there, going to their next parties or skipping school, so they could play video games all they long. "Why'd you keep that baby? Why didn't you just abort it? You're insane." They huffed, not ever looking back at me again.

Fake people, fake friends. Life is full of them, but you won't realise until times get hard. They'll leave as fast as the hard breeze takes dead leaves from the trees.

I didn't have friends anymore. Because although I had hoped, even kind of expected for my best friend Liam at that time to reach out to me, he never did. I gave up, and fully threw myself into the busy life of a single father and work.

It was my child so it was my job to provide him in every single way I could. I worked and worked and worked, but made sure I always spent enough time with him. I left home after a year, bought my own first house and started up my life alone with Zephaniah.

I had a job similar to this, I was on my laptop all day long, but I managed to stay home and take care of Zephaniah while doing so.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard his bare feet stepping down the stairs. I sat up and noticed how his cheeks were flushed red, his hair flying in every direction and Shephy clutched to his chest.

He was only wearing his grey cow themed briefs, an oversized green sweater thrown over his upper body, his bare left shoulder showing as it slipped off.

"Good morning, Zeph," I smiled as he immediately walked over to me, wanting his morning cuddles.

"Morning," He whispered as he climbed up the couch, curling into a small ball as he laid his head down on my lap, his knees pulled up.