The Pretenders

the pretenders| chapter 4

Caution: Long paragraphs ahead.

04. We Should Stop Meeting Like This

EMBER
"Round and round the cobbler's bench, the monkey chased the weasel," I softly sang as I pushed the hospital doors open. I don't know why, but it was stuck in my head and Eric had told me time and time before: when a stupidly catchy song is stuck in your head, sing it 'til it dies out.

I greeted Loyola, the brunette lady in mid-thirties that worked the front desk. She smiled at me in return.

"Things are looking up for your dad, you know?" She commented when I passed her.

I knew she was trying to be nice and give some positivity, especially with all the lost souls that just milled around the lobby, losing hope. She felt like it was her obligation, and I admired her for that.

But I also knew for a fact, that my dad wasn't getting better. This had to be the five hundredth time I had walked into the hospital and had heard the same thing from Loyola.

"Yeah," I said instead, giving her a smile. "Thanks, Loyola."

I managed to finally walk past her desk and made my way to the cafeteria with the three boxes of Chinese noodles in a plastic I held in my hand.

I spotted my older brother, Eric, sitting at a table with mum and Isabelle right by the entrance.

"Took you long enough. I'm starving," Isabelle groaned as I sat beside mum. She gave me a small smile, but I just returned it with a nod.

"Oh grow up, you loon." Eric said, taking the boxes out from the plastic.

Uh oh.

Mum turned her head to them. "Eric, it's not nice to call people loons. Belle, respect your sister's time of arrival."

Eric rolled his eyes while Belle nodded, guilty. Eric had always been the one to defy mum. He'd told me it was because mum wasn't really ever his mum.

Weirdly, I understood what he meant.

Back when I was around a year old and Eric was six, mum and dad had a fight and mum had said she needed some time away from him, so she left with me. We went back to my ma's home town and, ideally, she planned to stay there only for a few months. My dad didn't know that she was carrying another with her though - Isabelle.

We stayed there for Belle and I's childhood; up until I was fourteen or so.

When we came back, Eric wasn't the same, he wasn't exactly happy to see us home.

He didn't even try to hide his resentment. He'd yell at mum when she tried doing something her way. Sometimes, he'd even overturn furniture when it was really bad. It was a sorta the same for Belle.

When it came to me, though, Eric was a little more sympathetic. He lets certain things slide like how I change the radio station in his car, or how I sneak into his room when I can't sleep.

He was just a tad overbearing at times.

I mean, I got that he felt abandoned to the wreck that was our father, at the time.

That still didn't excuse how he treated - treats mum.

"Whatever - I'm not hungry anymore," Eric shoved the fried noodles to mom's side, got up and quickly walked away to the emergency room.

My mum looked down at Eric's box of takeout and then to the red sign of the emergency room. Isabelle placed a hand on top of mum's, drawing small circles on her knuckles, trying to comfort her.