Making Friends...

Chapter nine, flashbacks.

              Emerson woke up a while later to Noah shaking him awake "Emerson get the fuck up I've been shaking you for five minutes" he hissed in Emerson's ear, Emerson shoved him and rolled over again before realizing that he was asleep in Noah's bed, he jumped out of the bed and stood bewildered beside the bed and watched Noah stand up "they didn't see anything did they?" Emerson said quickly.

             "See what?" Noah asked and fixed his pants on his hips "us, um k-kissing" Emerson said quietly, Noah put a look of confusion on his face "we didn't kiss Emerson, you sat down and we talked for a bit eventually falling asleep, are you feeling okay?" Emerson stared confused "but I, it felt so real"

             "It was probably just a dream, now come eat some dinner" Noah lead himself and Emerson out of his room and downstairs to eat. On the table was some salade, burgers and french fries, Noah and Emerson sat down opposite each other and started eating with Emerson's older brothers.

             Dinner was quiet and Emerson couldn't stop thinking about the kiss he shared with Noah, or the kiss he thought they shared. It felt so real, but maybe it was a dream and his mind was playing tricks on him. After eating Emerson made his way back upstairs to his room saying that he was tired. Laying in bed and staring at the ceiling Emerson felt his stomach contract at the thought of Noah and the look on his face when he said that they had kissed, he looked disgusted, unsure and purely confused. Emerson felt his eyes water but pushed them back suddenly angry with himself and with one thought in his mind 'I need to get rid of these feelings, if that's even what they are'  with that he got up and sat at his desk pulling out his drawing stuff and putting his ear buds in to disappear into his own world where Noah doesn't exist.

            A few hours later it was pitch black outside and quiet, Emerson had found that he drew a building, an old one with broken windows and broken sports stuff in the front yard, there was a ghost of a man in the doorway of the home and a woman standing behind him, she looked scared and like she was about to cry or kick and scream at the man, on the steps was a boy, scraped knees, in shorts and short hair that stood out in all directions on his head. There was a bicycle and a helmet tossed to the side a few feet from him and there was wet streaks down his face.
           
           The woman looked as if she was about to pass through the ghost of the man to comfort the boy. Angry, Emerson ripped the page out of the sketch book, he'd said that he wanted to forget his feelings for Noah but he didn't want to bring up old memories of his older brother scared and hurt with the ghost of their father to haunt them while their mother tried her best to raise her three boys. The paper was thrown aside, unfinished and torn.

           Emerson to his earbuds out of his ears and changed for bed, after brushing his teeth he crawled I tu bed and drifted off into a restless sleep.

            It was cold and damp, wrapped up in a blanket I sat on my bed watching the rain fall outside my window. Weird isn't it, when people in a household fight the whole atmosphere changes, it gets quite all around other than the people arguing, the air gets tense and your thoughts begin to wander, you start to realize that you don't ever want to fall in love because you don't want to be like your parents, always fighting and always tense.

           I stood up from my bed and clicked the lock home on my bedroom door as the shouting started to get closer and I could finally hear what was being said "just leave!" Mom cried as dad  stormed through the hallway "gladly, I don't have to deal with you and your filthy children bitch!" He yelled "their yours too!" Mom said through sobs.

"no their not! I would have had sons that are men, these are not men!"
"Their still young!"
"Sebastian is old enough to act like a man! And what does he do? Locks himself up in his room and plays that damn guitar all day! A man would be outside and working!"
"He's thirteen! And maybe if you weren't such a dick to the boys they would come around the house more often!"