More than friends (Michael Afton x Reader)

14 - Mrs Dela

Days turned to weeks. Until finally A month after my father's death had passed, and yet I felt still saddened by the loss. It loomed over me like a heavy cloud, always around, tiring me out, warning away at my Will and motivation to do anything. It never got easier to come to terms with things. The more I thought about it, the more I stressed and cried about it. Even if I tried to talk to Roselyn about how I felt, I didn't feel okay. I tried not to show my sadness when hanging out with Michael, Max, Alex and Roselyn, but it was clearly there and somewhat noticeable.

I and Michael got closer as friends, laughing, and meeting up after school to go to the arcade or hang out at his workplace, where he ignores all of his responsibilities, but Henry doesn't seem to mind it. He seemed to be wanting Michael in his sight as much as possible then working, so something must be happening as if Henry was suspicious about Michael being around. I felt as if Michael wanted me around like I'd fit in with him and his friend group.

I did go to school 4 days out of a week. I skipped days, often Mondays to sleep in and hang out with Roselyn, who cleaned up my room with me.

My mother never made it any better, trying to get me to make things work even if it wasn't working. It made me feel tired of this whole thing. Even when she works 3 days a week, long hours, we find time to argue with each other. I grew tired of fighting against her when I know nothing I do will change things. If I didn't want to eat, she'd try to do something productive, like go for a walk with her or do something that doesn't include staying in my room.

Read a book in the living, clean up, learn how to bake, dance, sing, or whatever she came up with to get me to do something and bond with her. At times it works, other times, I would fall asleep on the couch out of tiredness. I woke up only to go back to sleep 2 hours later, having little energy to do anything. The only thing with staying home as I had to stay around her.

When I go to school, she would allow me to stay out as long as I'm home by 6, which I never am. To only have an argument, and me leaving the house to a sleepover with someone else, or go to my room.

If I eat, she would attempt to encourage me to eat more times in the day and would treat me like a child, clapping her hands when I empty my plate. I would be rewarded with the same thing as staying at home, having more energy and will to do things.

Overall, I feel sick.

My dad's funeral was only for the family. My mother, Fritz, I and a few members of my dad's side of the family. A small gathering at the house, with his urn on a table, nicely decorated for the gathering.
It pained me with grief to see the urn of my father with bundles of his favourite flowers around him and a few photographs. Black and white to slightly coloured. In each photo, he was never without a cheeky smile or a jolly smile. A smile of a man that enjoyed his life. He held this cheerful outlook on things, on life.

My auntie, dad's oldest sister, decided to take the other grown ups' children to the park. Fritz went with her, enjoying his time seeing his family, whom he never met before, well the younger ones. My aunties and uncles just pick them up to spin them around or attempt to make them believe unbelievable stuff that you tell your family members to make yourself seem like this cool guy.

My uncle, the most talkative of the 3 idiotic siblings on my dad's side, chatted calmly with my mother, patting her can and concealing her. He was very different from my father and his sister. He'd worn this casual suit that you'd only see people on vacation wear. His hair was pushed back and he'd put effort into looking good at a funeral. His brother or him having a bad life. He had this tired overall messy look. Unkempt appears, despite becoming cheerful when the children are around.