Under the stars || James McVey

chapter twenty two

James’ POV

The hot water runs over my body relaxing every muscle I own. I felt tense and sore as if I had been running for hours. I probably had been.

It happened again. This time I woke up in the back garden of one of my neighbours down the street. Mrs Pearson found me lying face down in her flowerbed, a small gash on my forehead. She looked a little frightened as she helped me inside and cleaned me up. She’s a woman in her sixties and lives with her husband and their dog, Sammy. They’d lived here for almost thirty years and I’d known them my whole life. They’d babysit me every once and a while when I was younger, same with my sister.

“James, are you alright dear?” she asks me, wetting a towel and wiping it across my forehead. I winced a little at the pain but I’d suffered worse.

“I’m fine” I told her and allowed her to finish patching me up. I didn’t want to stay long; I needed to clean myself of all the dirt and mess that clung to my clothes and body. Apologising again to the Pearsons and thanking them for their hospitality, I make my way back home. On entering the house, I was bombarded with questions: “Where have you been? Are you alright? What’s happened? You’ve been out all night. What did you do?”

“I sleep-walked again, fell asleep in the Pearsons’ garden and now I need a shower. Excuse me.” I didn’t give them enough chance to respond before I half-jogged past the boys and my family and headed upstairs.

I must have been in the shower for an hour just letting the water wash away all of the dirt, hoping it would wash my thoughts away too. I’ve been mauling over the thoughts running over my mind about her, the one that changed me. It’s been such a long since it happened, it was supposed to get better, not worse. I’m getting worse. I’m starting to feel guilty about moving on. I can felt it, feel the shift inside me and I don’t like it. I don’t like what it’s doing to me.

A knock on the door startles me and I turn the faucet, feeling I’d used enough water for today. “James, honey, I’m making lunch, would you like some?” I quickly step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, tying it securely so I wouldn’t give my mother a fright. I used another to dry the water off my shoulders, back and arms and then rub my hair as I open the door to my mother.

“What are we all having? Do you need my help?” I ask her, wanting nothing more than help her with anything I could after everything I’ve put her through.

She shakes her head and smiles at me, some of it false and forced. “It’s just me and you, honey. We can have anything you want.” I raise my eyebrows at me and stop rubbing my hair wondering where everyone had gone. “The boys have gone to the studios for some writing time and your father has taken Izzy out for a bit. I thought we’d catch up a little, just us two.” She looks up at me pleading and I could still see the worry in her eyes. Knowing I’d pretty much dried myself already, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest.

“I love you, mum” I whisper into her hair. She pulls away and cups her hands around my face, tears welling up in her eyes. “We can stick some bacon in the grill, melt some cheese and use that nice crusty bread you always buy. Like we used to do,” She smiles and nods, telling me to get dressed while she starts preparing the food downstairs.

I quickly make my way in my bedroom and throw on a pair of boxers, loose grey joggers and a singlet. I couldn’t be bothered with making much of an effort and just combed my fingers through my hair to tame it a little. Making my way downstairs and turning into the kitchen I see my mother struggling to open the milk carton. Chuckling slightly I take it out of her grasp and unscrew the lid for her, setting it back on the counter. “Really mum, you’re so weak.” I tease her, a faint smirk on my face.