Baby Steps » Ant x Dec

Proud

The sky wasn't grey or black, there weren't thunderous clouds looming over Newcastle nor was the rain hammering against the bathroom window.

It felt like any other Saturday. It felt normal. People would be waking up soon, probably grumbling about working on a weekend, they'd have breakfast, brush their teeth and go to work. Not knowing or giving a thought to what the day could mean. What it would represent.

That was an isolating thought. There I was, finally 16 years old, stood infront of the mirror with tears already shimmering in my blue eyes.

Her eyes.

Mam used to always say my eyes were my best feature, said they were full of depth and love. She said that when she looked into my eyes she could see through to my soul, see what I was feeling.

I thought that everyone could see through me like that, until I lost her and realised my Mam was the only one who could ever truly read me. All because she had the same eyes. We could look into each other and see the same heart. The same warmth and depth, the same emotion. When she hurt, I hurt. When she was happy, it made me happy. Losing her was like losing the center of my universe. Now it span off its axis. I'd never imagined a life without my Mam before, because my Mam was my life.

I had been a 9 year old boy. A mammy's boy at that. Of course she was my entire world. Before Sarha was born, especially after my Dad left it was just me and her. We'd go on adventures together, even if it was just to the shops. We'd cook together, watch movies. When I wasn't at school I was with her, when my sisters were born we raised them together. She showed me everything, how to love, how to care for someone more than you care for yourself.

The way I saw it, when I was 9, I had been robbed of a perfect childhood. I lost everything and it had taken 7 years just to find my feet again. To find a new someone to center my universe.

It was barely seven o'clock, I was still wet from a shower, only clad in shorts. I was sure Declan would be asleep downstairs. Part of me hoped I would be gone before he woke up, so that I didn't have to show him how hard I found all this. I didn't want to breakdown in front of him today because it upset him alot to see me cry and it upset me more too see him sad.

For the record he'd made it known that this wasn't how he wanted to spend my birthday, he was sweet like that- he wanted me to have the best time and it was hard to convince him with words why this day had to be about my Mam rather than me. I was sure however, that soon he'd realise my birthday was better forgotten. This wasn't a happy day. This wasn't a day of celebration. This was the day my girls lost their Mam. This was the day I lost everything. The day my childhood had been robbed from me.

A single tear rolled down my cheek and I growled, rubbing at it furiously until all trace of it was gone. I glared at my reflection angrily, my jaw twisting with pent up emotion. My hands clutched the sink just so they'd stop shaking. I'd done this multiple times before, it wouldn't be a lie to say it got harder each time because it really did. As my memories faded and the girls got more curious, I was left having to search deep within myself to confront my fears. Just so I was able to describe the sound of her voice or the way she hugged me before bed.

Those were the type of things Emma and Sarha wanted to hear about and those were the types of things I didn't want to think about. The Good times. It made me miss them more.

Shaking my head, I pulled a towel off the side and dried my dripping hair, my black tresses were looking completely unruly. I rarely styled my hair so I thought I'd leave it to save time, but when I stared back in the mirror I hated how rugged I looked.