The Kings IV II

41

Hero

Irritability.

One of the most common side effects of recovery, or whatever the hell everyone was calling what I was currently going through.

And here I sat, irritable. Pissed. Mad.

I placed my tongue in my bottom lip, looking over at Dad when I heard his footsteps.

"Hey," he greeted, "Mom made you something light."

With an angry brow, I watched as he placed the bowl of oatmeal in front of me. It was really beautiful- fruit arranged nicely, a drizzle of chocolate syrup covering the entire dish.

"I'm not hungry."

He sat at the table next to me, leaning forward on his elbows. "Well, if you don't eat it, I will. Your mom worked hard on that."

I pushed it towards him, leaning back in my chair. I folded my arms over my chest and blinked a few times, my tired eyes almost completely closing.

"Hero, come on, champ," he said, "we promised we'd stay on a schedule with eating."

I looked over at him, knowing that my eyes were piercing and angry. It wasn't intentional- I didn't want to treat everyone the way I was treating them.

He nodded towards the bowl. "Come on."

Mom walked over to the table, gently rubbing Dad's shoulders. "Hey, can I replace Dad?"

Dad stood up and she sat down, resting her chin in her palm. "I have a bowl of my own. Do you want to eat together?"

She stood up and grabbed her bowl from the island, sitting next to me.

I looked over at her, my arms still crossed over my chest, my drained eyes still boring into her.

She took a spoonful, slipping it in her mouth. "It's so good. The chocolate drizzle with the blueberries, it's awesome."

I leaned forward, clenching my jaw as I looked down at the dish in front of me. It did look appealing, but that never really made much of a difference before.

"Just one bite," she said.

I stabbed my spoon into the oatmeal, scooping up a spoonful. She bit down on her lip, rubbing the back of her neck. She shot me an encouraging smile, nodding.

I dipped the spoon in my mouth, my eyebrows furrowing together at the texture. So many textures, I'd forgotten what they felt like.

And that made me terribly sad.

I took my time in chewing, placing my hand on my neck as I leaned back. I swallowed and cleared my throat, grabbing my glass of water.

"That was good, yeah?" She asked, smiling, "I'm proud of you."

"I forgot what food feels like, Mom," I angrily said, tears clouding my eyes.

Her smile slowly faded, making her tilt her head over. "Hero."

"No, that's fucking sad, Mom," I sobbed, standing up. I couldn't control anything I was feeling- I was constantly weak. In front of everyone.