Drowning

Chapter 7:"Oh my holy fuck!"

Leah's P.O.V.

The house is dead silent.

No noises coming from downstairs.

No wonderful waffle smell waking me up.

No thumping sound of Dad's boots on the wood floor.

Not even a movement from Alex's room.

Nothing.

Is this how the rest of my life is going to be? Silent.

Dad is already at St Mary's hospital checking in. He left at 6am this morning. He did say good bye but it wasn't the same as every morning, because I just couldn't look him in his eyes.

My phone dings on my bedside table. It takes every ounce of my being to lift my hand to grab my phone.

Jenny.

She is probably wondering why I'm not at school, because neither Alex nor I are at school. I mean, we just found out that our dad might die, of exactly the same illness that killed our mother. My phone finally stops ringing and I look at the time.

10am.

My hand holding my phone falls onto my white sheets as I let out a well deserved sigh. I have been awake for about 4 hours. Not moving from my bed and also not planning on it. I've just been staring at the ceiling, the cream coloured ceiling.

Everywhere I look I see my mom in her hospital bed with my dad standing next to her not even trying to stay strong, because we all knew that it was time. The image of my mother dying has never left my mind. Her once beautiful rose-coloured face now turned pale and skinny. Her gorgeous hazel brown hair –like mine- faded and dry. Her brown-gold eyes that once held so much happiness, held sorrow and pain. She was a beautiful woman. I always wished I looked like her. She was tall, skinny. But the last moments of her life she lost all her happiness and beauty.

It was hard accepting her death, mostly on Dad. It was obviously hard for Al and I, but Dad took it ten times harder than us. For weeks after her death he locked himself up in his office, because couldn't sleep in their room. He didn't eat or drink for weeks, but sometimes he would come out and get some things to eat and drink but never sparing us a glance. I don't even know what he did in his office. He shut me and Alex out and didn't show up at work for months. When he finally came out of his office for the first time in 5 months he looked like horrible like he was going to fall over at any moment. He didn't look like Dad.

Alex and I found comfort in each other. He would always come out of his room in the middle of the night and came to sleep with me in my bed. It helped me coup with Mom's death, because we would talk about how we felt and what we missed the most about mom. I always told him what I missed most about her was her smile. Her smile would always light up a room.

Suddenly I feel my sheets being lifted up on my right side and a body lies next to me.

Alex.

He places his head on my shoulder and sighs.

"Why?" he asks and the question hangs in the air with no answer, because I don't know what to say. I've been asking myself that exact same question every second throughout the night, hence why I haven't been sleeping.

"I don't know, Al."

We just lie in my bed for another hour or two and just stare at the ceiling. I feel Alex's breathing against my shoulder and it comes out forced, he's crying. I turn my head down toward him.

"Al? I know it's hard but we can make it. Dad will be fine. He is going to come back home and make us waffles again. He will be fine. We will be fine. I promise." I reassure Alex but also myself.