"Thanks," Niall said as I handed him a glass of water.
I nodded and sat down across the room, cross legged and sipping the cup of tea I'd made. It proved helpful in relieving my headache.
I felt odd, sitting across from the boy who'd abused me for so long and trying to have a somewhat normal conversation with him. Given, we weren't even talking yet, so I could only imagine what it would be like when Niall started to... explain. But for a while we just sat there, and I started to worry if Niall was going to say anything at all. Finally, he cleared his throat.
"I just want to start off by saying I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the ground and rubbing his forehead. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. It's been a long time, I should be over it by now."
I bit my lip, staring down into my cup of tea. I didn't know what to say or do. This had never happened to me before. What was I supposed to do? Agree that he shouldn't have acted like himselfand risk another fit of anger? Lord knows that's what would've happened. To avoid saying anything, I sipped my tea again and waited for Niall to speak.
"I haven’t picked up that camera in a long time. That picture you saw," he said, running a hand through his blonde hair, brown at the roots. "That was our family before... Before my father died."
Hearing these words leave his mouth, my chest constricted and my gaze flicked up to him. Niall's face was solemn, reflecting regret and sadness. He was telling the truth. This realization made me feel pity toward him. But if I knew Niall at all, I knew that pity - among other things - set him off more than anything. I settled for saying nothing.
Niall took a deep breath. "Kidney failure, the doctors said." A small, forced chuckle escaped him. "He was a heavy drinker - had been for nearly all of his life. One day, his body just gave out on him. Broke poor Mum's heart and tore our family to pieces."
I remembered seeing the picture on the small camera screen. Maura, Niall, the man, and the other boy. The man must have been Niall's father, and the other boy must have been Niall's older brother. They seemed like the happiest people in the world. But Niall had said that was before his father died. What of his brother?
"My brother," Niall continued, as if reading my thoughts. "Took it the hardest, I'd say. Those two did everything together. Quite literally, they were always with each other." He chuckled again, this time a little more genuine. "Sometimes, I swore they even went to the bathroom together."
I couldn't help smiling a bit at this. The relationship Niall described was something I'd never had with either of my parents, nor ever would. At times it was horribly frustrating that Mum and Dad couldn't be here for just one night, whether I needed them or not. And whether I'd have liked to admit it or not, I loved my parents. They'd pretty much set me on my own from the time I could take care of myself, and I'd never quite gotten over it. But I'd have much rather known that my parents were still there in a sense, rather than not living anymore.
"The reason Greg - my brother - left," Niall continued, rubbing the right side of his face. "Is still kind of confusing to me. It was either the fact that he couldn't handle Dad's death, he felt as if our family couldn't function without Dad, or having to see Mum unravel right in front of us. He was right to leave on all accounts." I watched as Niall set his glass down on the side table and began rubbing his tired eyes. "I just wish he could've taken me with him."
I bit the inside of my cheek. I felt horrible. Was this the whole reason Niall had been so cruel? Because he was still trying to cope with his father's death? The thought seemed radical, seeing as I had nothing to do with this. But it also seemed realistic of Niall at the same time. If two people were torn from my life all at once, I'd probably leave as well.
