More Than One Kind Of Family (Boyxboy)

Moving On or Repressing the Past?

                                        Dylan's POV
        Why does Basil's jacket smell like him so damn much?

                                        Delilah's POV

             Should I get involved or would that be a no no?

                                        Henry's POV

                       What will it take to make her see me?  

                                        Delilah's POV

    Beep beep beep! I jump with a start at the aggravating sound of my alarm. Grabbing at my phone I blindly swipe my password onto the screen and harshly jam my thumb onto the snooze button. While shaking violently I throw my phone against the footboard of my bed. Stubbornly though it refuses to crack and only bounces off the wood and lands on the blanket of my bed. I blink rapidly and throw the blankets off of my chilly skin that's sticky with perspiration. How it's possible to sweat so much when one is so cold I'll never know.

   As I sit up in a rush I hear the rusty old bed springs creek with my shifting weight. Breathing heavily I try to block the images from my dream. Even with my eyes forced open as wide as they go the images still flash before me. Slamming my head into my pillow I scream and try to repress my old memories.

   The constant drip of water splashing from a rusty pipe onto the hard cement that offers no hope or warmth. NO! I don't want to remember this. Make it stop! The grating sound of his constant hacking and coughing. I scream louder into my pillow. I hear the rustle of cloth against skin. Violently I bang my head, trying to erase the horrible images. The noxious smell of something I can't quite detect and dust is heavy in the dry fowl air. Stop it! I know what comes next, no!

    "Delilah! Delilah, stop it! Wake up, wake up!" A voice yells towards me. I can't just stop though, I need this to go away! "Stop it. Stop it now!" With these words come the feel of dry sunburnt hands that forcefully grab me by the shoulders. I can still remember though, so i keep struggling against my own mind. I feel the hands move and grab my head, thus forcing me to stop my thrashing and hold still.

    Blinking out tears with my sleep heavy eyes I cry silently and look at who stopped me. I'm hardly surprised when I see the weary face of Nalin staring at my tear soaked face. Nalin, the man who I have come to call my father. At seeing his face I immediately straighten my back and dry my tears with my shirt sleeve. I don't want to disappoint him like this, I refuse to let him see me weak like this. If he sees me weak then they may not want me anymore, and I can't have that. Not now, not ever.

   Wait, no that's absurd. That's the old you thinking Delilah. This is your real home, with your real family. They would never get rid of me like a sack of old garbage. This isn't like any of the other homes I've ever been in. No, I've been here for ten years for Christ sake. We're family and there's no doubt about that in my mind whatsoever. I was just momentarily stuck in the past, that's all. And the past is a dangerous place for me to be.

   Dad sits there in silence and watches me suck in gigantic lung fills of air. Once my breathing has calmed and the sobs have stopped ripping through my throat like a lion with freshly caught prey, he speaks faintly to me.

   "You are okay now. You know this, correct?" He asks me. Though it wasn't him asking if I was actually okay, it was him telling me that I'm fine. Which is what I really need. In response to his question to if I know I'm okay, I nod yes.