T h i r t y

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WARNING: this chapter talks about serious issues which may be triggering to some. Please take notice of this when reading.

We continued driving. Occasionally I placed my fingers gently on lips as the image replays in my head of moments before, but quickly I snap back to the reality and the silence between the two of us.

"My dad came back," Fletcher says as he finally decides to break the ice. The words roll off his tongue smoothly yet the slight bitterness in his tone is evident without a doubt.

"From where?" I ask but a part of me seems unsure if I'm beginning to step over his boundaries and become borderline nosey.

He laughs emotionlessly, "jail," he sighs loudly, " he's come back from jail, Adeline."

Jail? I mean I never heard about his dad, after all, he seems to avoid the topic of family often, but I would have never guessed he was sent to jail.

What did he do? How long was he gone for?

Questions continue to swim in my thoughts as I begin to connect some of the pieces to his odd behaviour throughout the months. Fletcher's father served jail time, clearly, his presence made a clear effect on the family. Fletcher didn't seem pleased when he saw his mum's face walk through the hospital doors. In fact, he was keen to kick her out the room as quickly as possible.

Why?

His sister was dead, his father, guilty or not, was sent to prison for maybe even years and his mother wronged him and both Cole in ways I would never know. Deep down, I don't want to know. I don't want to hear of the pain he's faced, the burden he's carried on his back for years with nobody to help him. I don't want him to relive the past nor the despair he's facing in the present.

"He's been away for a while now, a long while, and to be perfectly honest I could be more glad he was locked up for years behind those thick bars giving him no escape. He deserved every punishment he got and more," he says, his voice thick from emotion and a frown forming on his face as he tells his story.

"You don't have to go on, Fletch," I reassure.

"I know, I want to though," he states calmly, "I want you to know who I am, the life I've lived and the flaws that have shaped me into this person sat next to you. I want you to understand me in ways I have never let anybody else." I nod, unsure of what to say or how to react so I continue to focus all my attention on the road ahead whilst listening to the story Fletcher was so desperate to tell.

"For as long as I remember my family was unhappy. My parents were facing some serious problems in their marriage after my mother had given birth to Cole. It wasn't pretty let's just say that. For months after months, all I would hear is screaming and shouting as I was going to bed, or from the moment I woke up. It was like a never-ending argument. Every day it was the same thing on repeat, one of them pissed off the other off, the other retaliated. This would go on for hours on end until I heard a door slam shut signifying one of the called shots and had enough. Those moments of one of the two leaving the house and silencing the argument was one of the only times in that damned house I had peace."

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