Fractured

2

Six years previous, when there was still a father.

They lived on the corner of a roundabout, stupid place to live I know, but they were happy. And they stayed happy for a long time, but not forever. It's said that nothing lasts forever, that is incorrect. Not everything lasts forever for everybody, but believe it or not, when your happiness runs its course there will always be someone else on our planet with happiness in their life and love in their heart.

Their house was of a peculiar sort, built by a peculiar builder and lived in by completely normal people. It has a lovely look to it, the kind of look that cannot be replicated with skill. It just happens. It was just meant to be that way, there was no question about it. She was married; she had a son and a lovely husband. Her name was Astrid.

She was not your average run of the mill woman, she was subject to casual abuse from her friends but was never insulted; she was too respected for that. She was a strong, independent beautiful woman. She was tall, politically acceptable and had aqua eyes with a sheen of mischievousness that froze some in their tracks. She was incredibly smart and there were minds of the human race that baffled at her brain, these were sexist people that thought less of women's minds of course. She worked as a lawyer in the largest firm in London; she held all the cases that only the elite lawyers would receive.

She took on cases that should take lots of preparation, months of preparing and she took them on no matter what, she was never biased, she never showed her prejudices whatever they may be. There was an air of success around her, something that marks a person of a certain power and someone that has lived through life, and walked the hard road to be where she is. She could've gone the wrong way, easy option but she chose to go the long way, the world was watching. Her reputation preceded her; she was well sought after, wanted by many, a lawyer of epic proportions. To say she always won is an understatement, she never lost.

And then there was her husband, she loved him as many wives do, with compassion, dedication and a general love like no other. He too was extraordinary, his eyes and hair were of similar colour, a dark hazel, much like his son's, though unlike his son, he was tall and well-muscled over every inch of his body. He was a builder by trade but a soldier from long ago. He knew how to make decisions in the heat of battle and was quite the sharpshooter. He bore the scars of war as all men do, he was an all-round good man, but there was the drinking...

When he came back from the war, Astrid's husband had seen things that no man should ever see, things that damage your mind and soul. He had killed, seen others killed and almost been killed himself. That kind of trauma doesn't just disappear; in fact it doesn't go away. The victims of the trauma that is war have to find a way to live with their ghosts, to understand what they are telling them, and to know where to go from there. Unfortunately, Graham Walker had not made his peace with the ghosts that haunted him; he could only hide them in the one place that all things end up, the local pub.

He drowned his problems out with the liquor he consumed and the bottles he downed. He tried to throw his pain away like a letter in a bottle. There was no therapy for him, nothing was available, and there was no one there for him, other than his beautiful wife. She tried her best to help him, she cooked for him, the nights he was at home at least, she held him when he was low and she never dreamt of leaving him. There was no questioning her devotion but there was no answer to his drunkenness.

He was drunk, but he was not a drunk. He suffered, as all those who drink do. The alcohol hurt him more than it helped him but he continued along anyway. It was a burning sensation when he drank, but it momentarily filled the void inside his soul. When he drank he tried to forget, he tried to forget the souls of the men he served with. He tried to blind himself to the ghosts that haunted him, to not see them, to be deaf to their voices. But they persisted; as ghosts always do. Ghosts will only leave after they have seen a change in those they haunt. Do they haunt? Or do they simply help, in some judged, misguided way.

Graham lived a life of abusive tendencies, he harmed Astrid on more than one occasion but one day he went too far.

He hit his son