The Stars In Your Eyes ✩ Tim Shepard

The Shepard Family

The Shepard parents were throwing anything they could get their hands on; cups, plates, and knick-knacks. One thing was for certain though, they both had really bad aim.

"I made a commitment?! Tell that to yourself, unless your commitment allows you to go off and fuck whoever you please!" Mr. Shepard continued. "Where do you disappear to every night, huh?! Other men's beds?!"

"How dare you assume I sleep around, I-!" Mrs. Shepard started before her husband cut her off, adding to his previous statement.

"That goes for your children too! Did you not see the little one your son brought home last night?! Oh wait, you weren't here! I wonder where he picks up his bad habits! Fuck 'em and leave, right?! You would know!"

Curly suddenly took his hands off his ears, looking up at me with a shocked expression on his face. I could feel a lump in my throat, and the pain in my arm only increased. I didn't even know how to react before a new voice entered the argument.

"LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" Tim roared. "I could never fuck her and leave her! And the same goes for my mother! You wanna know where she goes every night?! Well, she has a second job to support us! That's more than you will ever do for us!"

Everything went deathly quiet. No more yelling and no more clatter of things being thrown. Curly and I exchanged a long look, silently asking the same question. Is it over?

After another second, there was the sound of footsteps, a slapping sound, more footsteps, and then the front door slammed shut. The door slammed again a minute later, before Curly and I shakily stood up, peeking around the corner.

The living room and kitchen looked like a war zone. The floor was scattered with broken objects, the cabinet doors and drawers were open, and the chairs had been knocked over. A broken picture frame even lay busted at my feet. I couldn't help but crouch down and grab it before standing up right.

The shattered glass was dusty but the picture was still visible underneath the filth. It showed a happy, smiling family. The two young boys looked almost identical with black curly hair and dark blue eyes. The younger sat on a youthful-looking man's lap and the older stood on his own, not a mark anywhere on his small face. A little girl with long hair that hung down in ringlets and curls sat on a young woman's lap, to whom she looked identical. The picture and frame had a sad irony encased in it; a happy family broken by time.

"I'll get a broom." Curly sighed, making me look away from the photograph and over at him. He walked away, carefully stepping over broken objects as he did.

Already, I made up my mind to help clean up.

Suddenly, Tim was standing over me, gently pulling the busted picture frame from my hands and setting it on the counter with a sigh. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He said sadly, his hands running up my arms.

I winced, pulling my arm away as his hand moved over where I had been cut.

"Connie!" Tim practically gasped, grabbing my arm. His eyes went wide as he examined the wound through the rip in my hoodie sleeve. "C'mon." He said quietly, leading me to the back of the house and into the bathroom.

Silently, I sat on the counter, pulling off my jacket as Tim got out peroxide, bandages, and a cloth. He rolled up my sleeve, silently putting peroxide on the cloth and dabbing it at the cut on my arm. I couldn't help but hiss as the burning feeling started.

"Easy," Tim said quietly, holding my arm a bit tighter. I gripped the counter, my knuckles turning white. I bite my lip as he finished cleaning the wound and started bandaging it.

"Not too tight?" He gestured to the bandage wrapped around my upper arm after he had finished.

I shook my head, hopping off the counter.

"Are you okay?" He asked as I grabbed my hoodie. "First cuts hurt the worst..."

I shrugged. "Not my first." I said before I could stop myself. "Probably won't be my last either."

Tim looked at me strangely, blocking the door before I could leave.

"What the hell does that mean?" He asked. I held out my hand, showing him the white scar across my palm, figuring it was easier to tell him than lie. Tim took my hand, examining the mark.

"Courtesy of my father." I chuckled a little. "Guess we both have bad luck with those."

Tim half-smiled, leaning against the door like he wanted to say something more.

"I'm sorry." He finally said.

"Don't be." I shrugged, reaching for the door handle before he stopped me.

"Connie..." He started, thinking about what he wanted to say. "I meant what I said earlier. I would never-... Not to you. Believe it or not, but I do care about you. A lot, and I-"

Without a word, I got up on my tip toes and kissed his cheek before slipping past him and out of the bathroom. Curly had picked up the chairs, shut the cabinet doors, and just started sweeping by that time.

I sighed, pushing the conversation I had just had with Tim to the back of my mind as I went up to Curly. He looked at me blankly, not even trying to stop me as I took the broom from his hands and continued sweeping.

We worked in silence for the rest of the morning, which wasn't that long. Curly washed whatever remains of the dirty dishes, I swept, and even Tim pitched in, by putting books back on shelves and small things like that. Just as we finished, the door opened, causing us all to fearfully look up.

Angela.

"What happened here?" She asked.

"Mom and Dad happened," Curly said quietly, after taking a beer out of the fridge.

"Yeah, and where were you?" Tim added.

Angela shrugged, glancing around the house, her dark eyes falling on me. She definitely wasn't the innocent-looking girl from the picture anymore.
"Seems you found a replacement for me anyway." She said bitterly.

I looked down, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"At least she's here, that's more than we can say for you." Curly snapped.

"I thought you hated her." Angela retorted.

Curly didn't say anything in response, but took a sip of his beer, jumping up on the counter. Angela smirked, looking back at me, that time with a glint of curiosity in her eye.

"What happened to you?" She nodded at my arm.

"You already know what," Tim said, now standing next to me. Angela backed off, rolling her eyes before she disappeared.

"I should get going." I sighed.

"Do you want me to walk you?" Tim asked.

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you thought."

Tim nodded. I smiled a little, walking to the door before Curly called out.

"Connie." I turned to look at him. "Thank you."