Colours of a Sunset

Part 6

Part 6

After six days passed, I remembered waking up in the middle of the night–hearing my father’s voice ring through the house, nearly shaking the whole thing down. We don’t have stairs–we’ve never had stairs in our house, just a simple one story, three bedroomed house. And so I could hear most of the things he said, I could hear his voice but never make out the words he said. And then I would hear my brother’s voice, and I knew they were arguing. Arguing about what? I still don’t know. I heard my name, twice, and I heard my age in there a couple of times. They could have been arguing about me or I could have just been apart of it, and I don’t really know what the cause could be.

But it scared me, scared me half to death and I cried myself to sleep that night. Their loud voices echoing through the walls, making permanent residence in my mind and it scared me.

It scared me so much that I started to cry silently on my bed, my hands close to my chest and my head to the side.

It took hours into the brinks of the early morning before their voices died down and I could hear someone slam their bedroom door–I assumed Ben. Because minutes later, my bedroom door swiftly opened, the sounds of the hinges creaking filled the air.

I could tell my dad walked into the room, already familiarized with the beat of his footsteps, how he walks, I could hear it all. I could sense it all.

The bed dips to where he takes a seat in front of me but my eyes stay closed, imitating the act of a sleeping person.

“Hey beautiful,” He whispers softly, his hands reaching to stroke my hair, “Ben and I, we’ll always love you, no matter what.” I feel his lips press against my forehead moments before he exits the room once again.

I never really understood what he said about that. What he meant, I knew that already.