Scars (Ziam)

A Comfort

     "No, I'm going," I called back, but just replying felt like it took so much energy. I responded, but I never made a move to get out of bed. I laid there, thinking about how my mum would lay in bed for days on end sometimes. She wouldn't move, and my dad would, often times, have to go in and stay there with her for a while. Those days felt a lot like growing up with Nicola as our parent. I wondered if Ruth often had thoughts about our past.

     The door creaked open slowly, and Ruth stepped inside. She looked right at me, and I glanced away.

     "Liam, I'd feel a lot better if you stayed home today. You've had a lot to handle recently. Just stay home and... relax."

    Ruth was wearing a pleading look, and I didn't have the heart to turn her down. I simply nodded my head, but it was enough for her. She walked over to me and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. I felt her bottom lip wobble, and my heart clenched. She turned away before I could confirm that she was crying, and she stepped out of my room, closing the door behind her.

    I laid in silence for a while longer, listening to only the faint sounds of my sister and father getting ready for work. There were quiet footsteps outside of my door, and I prepared for Ruth to barge back in, but there was another knock instead. This one sounded a bit louder than Ruth's knock, but I could tell it was meant to be soft. Clearly, the knuckles of the person knocking were larger than Ruth's.

     "Liam... may I come in?" My father asked, almost hesitantly, and I didn't know how to reply. So, I didn't. Instead, I waited patiently until he made the decision for himself.

    He opened the door slowly, and he looked at me with a kind smile. He walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. I averted my eyes, staring at the dandelion in the girl's hand from the painting.

   "Ruth told me what happened last night." He looked at me to gauge my reaction, only I never offered anything up. I simply took the words as they came. "Liam, I need you to talk to me. Please. Can you tell me how you feel?"

    I didn't know how to respond because I didn't know what I felt. I didn't known if I was just numb or if I was just trying to ignore the pain. I didn't know if I was okay. I was a mesh of emotions and thoughts on the inside. None of it made any sense.

    "I can't," I whispered out, so low, but I knew my dad heard my response.

    He gave out a sorrowful sigh and leaned forward, taking his head in his hands.

    "Seeing you like this... it kills me," He began, and I glanced over at him. He looked so broken and distraught. I don't think he knew that I didn't exactly fancy being this way either.

    "God, the last time I dealt with this type of thing... it was with your mother."

    I quickly sat up in bed and shook my head.

    "I'm nothing like mum," I nearly growled out, my eyes sending a dark, angry glare at my father. How dare he even compare us.

    "Liam, she would lay in bed for days sometimes. Nothing could move her. She hardly ate, and she always kept to herself. She once told me that things would be easier if she wasn't here. That's what you told Ruth last night," My father spoke in a cautious tone. Still, it proved to piss me off even further.

    "I'm not like mum," I spoke through gritted teeth. I stood up from my bed and went to my closet, finding clothing to wear for the day. "You've just let Nicola's stupid ideas and theories get to your head."

    "They're not just theories, Liam. They're based off of everything she's learning in school and your mother's condition. And I didn't speak to Nicola about this. This behavior is just far too familiar to be a coincidence."