pleasing a storm || an sbi family

emotions? what the fuck?

"why? isn't she lonely?" he had been under the impression that they were visiting her daily to keep her company, and now they hadn't seen her for "sixteen whole days. we haven't visited for sixteen whole days," his dad forced a smile.

"wow tech, that's really high. good job," he praised. techno didn't smile back.

"why aren't we going to see mom?"

"techno," his dad sighed. "mom is gone,"

a moment of silence passed.

"yeah? she's at the hospital..? that's why we have to go visit her..?" techno was pretty sure that his dad was losing his marbles.

"no, tech, she's not at the hospital," 

"why not? is she better??" he didn't know why she wasn't home if she was better. he'd been waiting for her to read him a proper story fit a whole life time (well, only about a year, but same difference). his father didn't do it right. he just didn't have the fun voices to do it properly.

"she's not better, tech, she's-" his dad paused and cleared his throat. "she's gone, tech. mom isn't at the hospital, she's just gone," techno was confused, and vocalized this.

"i'm confused. where is she?" explaining things to children was basically talking to a wall, and explaining to them that their mother was dead was seven billion times harder.

"gone, techno," his dad said for what must have been the seven hundredth time. this time, he raised his voice. though techno really still had no idea what was going on, something told him it was something serious. he stopped asking questions then. 

home was quiet for the next month. except nights. he remembered his dad coming in his room sometimes, talking really loud and smelling really funny. techno never really know what he was talking about since his words always came out like they were just one really long word. one of these nights when he was smelled funny, techno had brought up his mom. dad was angry.

"the hell did you say?"

"i asked if you could read me the story," he pulled the third harry potter book out from under his bed where it was safely stored for when his mom would come home. "but do the voices. like mom," 

"mom is gone, techno," 

"i know! but if you can just do the voices like her-"

a resounding smack rang throughout the room, followed by the sound of the heavy book dropping and rolling to the ground. techno felt his eyes water and a burning on his cheek.

techno didn't bring up his mom after that, but it didn't really matter. his dad would still talk loud, smell funny, and hit hard. it was once every other week, then once a week, then daily.

it was five days of going to school with a black eye that he learned that (according to his dad) he apparently wasn't supposed to go talking about what had actually happened to his face. he'd brought it up nonchalantly once his teacher had asked, prioritizing coloring properly in the lines over whatever she had to say. he didn't know it was against the rules.

a week later, techno remembered reading the word "orphanage" as his dad was taking him to what he said was camp. he also remembered someone else was in the car. he didn't recognize her, or remember her name, but she seemed very nice. at the time, the ripe age of five, techno didn't know what orphanage meant.

he stood aimlessly as the woman from the car, his father, and some other woman from the 'camp' talked. they were basically whispering. techno couldn't even hear what they were saying. one of the ladies gave techno a smile once they were done talking, and she stepped out of the room. the car woman stepped towards the door but didn't leave. techno's dad turned to his son.