The Winter When You Arrived

Chapter 1 - Trouble Child - Cry's POV

I listened intently, holding my ear to the closed door to my bedroom. My parents were fighting again. Honestly, this was getting out of hand. I would've gone down there and tried to stop it like I have all the other times but that would earn me a big ol' slap across the face by my old man. I cringed at the thought, suddenly feeling my face stinging where he hit me last.
"He isn't getting any better, Harold! We've tried everything! I just don't know why he won't talk to us."
"He won't talk to us because he doesn't have anything to say! Everything we need to hear is right here!"
I heard paper slab on the coffee table downstairs. My mother's voice was filled with pain and pity while my father's was filled with anger and hatred.
Anger and hatred directed at his son. And he wonders why I am like I am.
My mother began sobbing and my father slammed the screen door to the back yard. It bounced a few times before settling into the frame. After a few minutes, I began to smell smoke coming in through my open window. I wrinkled my nose and stood from my knees, walking over and shutting the window.
"Honey, come down here please!"
My mother called me from downstairs. It was evident in her voice that she'd been crying. I sighed and opened my door, pulling it closed behind me and began trudging my way down the stairs. I saw my mother sitting on her knees, rubbing at a fresh stain on the carpet. It was probably alchohol. Ever since I became the "Trouble Child" of my mother's nightmares, my father had got an addiction to smoking and beer. He might've knocked it over during his rage against me and my actions.
"Hun, I need to ask you something."
I already knew what was coming next. I turned around and began fast walking back towards my bedroom.
"No hun, please, listen to me!"
My mother's tone wasn't nearly as harsh as my father's, so I turned back around. But I never let go nor loosened my grip on the railing.
"Can you promise me that you'll try to behave for at least tomorrow? It's the last day before winter break and it wouldn't kill you to be good for once."
I considered her offer, thinking of the pros and cons of being a good kid for once in my wretched life. I found more cons and kindly declined.
"Ryan, please. I am begging you. Just be good. Please."
I could hear her voice cracking with every word as her eyes filled with more tears. They threatened to not only fall down her face, but beckon the ones I was desperately holding back to come out as well. I turned away, unable to see her in this state any longer. It's not like she was the cheerful, caring mother I'd always dreamed about but she had her moments. Unlike my father, whom she's told me has been the way he is since she met him. If he's been like this forever, why'd you marry him? I'd asked her many times. She never answered.
Finally, I gave in and nodded my head, only half sure of myself that I'd follow through with it. Her face brightened up a bit after I turned back to face her and she stood. Walking over to give me a hug, she whispered;
"Thank you, sweetie. This means so much to me. Make me proud."
I was struggling even more to keep myself from crying after she pulled away quickly, hearing the back door open in the kitchen. My father came in and glared at my mother then looked to me, giving me a worse look. A death stare you could call it.
"Why are you down here?"
"I-"
I looked up to my mother. She stared straight ahead at her husband, not wanting to make eye contact and give away what had happened.
"I came down to ask if I could play outside."
He looked at me for a moment before letting out a raspy chuckle.
"Go ahead. Freeze out there while you're at it. Good riddance."
I was hurt by his words, but not as much as I probably should've been. He treated me like this all the time. I was used to his insults and death threats.
I hurried upstairs, slipping into my bedroom quietly. He hated it when I made too much noise, especially upstairs. I grabbed my black and green winter coat and a pair of matching boots. Slipping on the thin knitted gloves I had, I quickly and quietly closed my door and went back downstairs. I nodded at my mother who forced a smile at me. My father, who was once again ranting about how much of a failure I was, didn't notice our silent exchange, luckily. I snuck out the front door before he noticed me and closed it gently. I began running down the snow covered lawn to the sidewalk when I stopped dead in my tracks.
Looking across the street, I saw a boy, about my age, standing outside the used-to-be empty house on the other side of the circle. I looked down the street leading into the circle of houses and saw a moving truck pulling up to the house. The boy was approached by a lovely woman who crouched down to be at shoulder level with him and pointed across the street at me. I stepped back then forwards again, feeling my foot slipping underneath me on ice I uncovered when I ran here. He looked to his I guessed mother then to me, then back to her again. He shook his head "No" and the woman dropped her arms to her side. She said something else then he shrugged his shoulders and she hugged him. He began walking the long way around the circle, looking at the ground the entire time. I, after slight hesitation, began walking down the only entrance to the circle. As if on cue, he looked up and saw me moving away. I would've tried to act as if I didn't see him coming but I was staring right at him. No point in trying to get away now.
I stopped walking, watching as he picked up his pace to get to me faster. I sighed and tapped my foot. My to-do list was simple right now: get this over with and carry on my merry way. Once he finally reached me, he was out of breath and panting like a dog. Up close, I could see more features. As he caught his breath, I studied his appearance. He wore a dark blue coat and tennis shoes that were almost completely white. Few cars passed through here other than the homeowners but when they did they caused the pristine white snow to turn a dark, sickening color. Those shoes were going to be ruined in no time.
He had stunning blue eyes. I couldn't help but stare at them for a creepily long time.
"H-hi."
He knocked me back to reality after managing to croak out a quiet hi. He was still breathing heavy but not as much as he was before. I watched as his breath fogged up the air between us. I noticed the gap wasn't very big and took a step back. He frowned slightly before quickly covering it up with another smile.
"I'm Felix."
He held out his hand. Only now did I notice his accent. A thick Swedish one, I guessed.
I took is outstretched hand.
"Ryan."
"Nice to meet you, Ryan." He said, a little to cheerfully for my taste.
"The feeling's mutual," I half lied. " you moving in over there?" I asked, gesturing towards the movers truck and the two men in work suits stacking boxes inside and outside the house.
"Yeah. We just arrived last night. I was excited at first 'cause I'd be getting two weeks of settling in before school but my mom insisted that I go tomorrow."
I nodded and looked back to him. He turned away from the movers as well and noticed me staring. I quickly looked at my front door, pretending to hear something coming from that direction. There was just something about him that made me want to look at him and never look away. I turned back to see him doing the same thing. Though he didn't look away. I began to feel uncomfortable but I was saved by the woman.
"Felix, come help me unpack!"
He mumbled what I assumed was an "ok" then made his way back. I looked to his mother who gave me a warm smile, a smile I'd never received from my own parents, then turned to her son. I continued watching as she led him inside and waved goodbye to the mover guys. She gave me my own wave and I waved back, not even trying to hold back the genuine smile forming on my face. After they'd disappeared into the house, I strolled back to my own sorry excuse for a happy home. I was, for the first time in a while, really happy. Even though we'd only exchanged a few words, I felt as if Felix and I were already close friends. That might be because of the fact that I had absolutely no one, my age at least, to talk to and hang out with. I, lost in my optimistic thoughts, forgot about staying quiet and let go of the door too soon, letting it slam loudly. It pulled me harshly from my mind and my brain went into defensive mode as I heard my father scream obscenities from the other room. Back to the same old bickering and blaming. Honestly, this was getting out of hand.