S O R E N
Fleck whacked me around the head as I punched the red bag, "Pay attention. Yer hittin' the bag like it's a fragile baby; put yer back into it."
I punched again and again, sweat dripping down the side of my face as my top stuck to my back. The gloves collided with the bag while Fleck told me "harder", to "combine strength with precision". I smashed the sand bag with everything I had and watched it fly into the air, swinging on the chain.
Falling on the ground, I spat the small amount of vomit that filled my mouth, my taste buds gagging, as I was left wanting water.
"Get up, you worthless boy." Fleck spat. I could see his shadow hovering over my body as I spat once again, "Stop getting my floor dirty or I'll make you clean it up with your own hair."
"What the actual fuck is stuck up your ass?" I growled, heaving off the ground as I stared at Fleck's icy gaze.
"Punch it again," he ordered, crossing his arms over his big chest giving me an unreadable look.
"Fleck, what the fuck—"
"Shut up and do as you're told." He growled, taking a step towards me. I stood my stance and looked into his light—almost white—blue eyes.
"... Why are you like this? What the fuck did I do?" I spat in annoyance, feeling myself stand up straighter and widening my stance to intimidate the white-haired man.
Fleck stared at me, unmoving, before sighing and grinning, "I'm messing with you, kid. A week ago you would've punched me straight in the jaw if I called you a worthless boy. What happened to you? You're different."
"Oh, my bad." I said sarcastically, throwing a light punch in his direction in which he caught.
"No, kid, you are different." He looked at me with a questioning gaze, while tightening my glove as I looked at him carefully.
"My mind's concentrating on other shit." I huffed, running my arm across my face to catch the sweat that had slid to the tip on my nose.
"You can't box while playing off with the fairies," he grabbed my gloved hand, "when you punch someone your heart and soul goes into that punch. Energy flows through your body; if you aren't all there what good are you to anyone?"
He pushed my glove into the bag as he spoke, "It's an art to become a good boxer. When your fist collides with the bag, you should feel the power you control. But you don't, not when you're not here," He motioned to my forehead, "You've gotta be there, Soren."
"I punch to take out my anger—" Fleck interrupted me and the feelings that clogged my throat.
"Then think of something that makes you bloody angry!"
I rolled my shoulders and planted my feet to the ground, my father's face clear in my mind. I punch the bag, over and over again. Each punch was harder than the last. Fleck grinned at the fighter he'd made me.
He grinned because I wasn't weak, and that I had my reason for how I was, yet I kept fighting. He grinned because he believed in me; something that brought me back to the gym most nights.
Though, that's what he saw. He didn't see my heart tearing apart with each punch. Fathers were meant to care. They were meant to be protectors.
He didn't see the difference between the sweat and tears sliding down my cheeks.
-
Frederick, dressed in a sharp looking suit, opened the grand house door to me while giving a slight bow as I walked in.
Robin was in my face before I could put my bag down. He grabbed my arm forcing me backwards into a storage room, but before I could react my foot caught on wooden object.
My landing was loud and painful. Robin bent down and put his hand over my mouth.
"Shhhhh. Don't say nothing." He whispered, taking his hand away from my mouth slowly and sighed in relief when I didn't move, "Mum and Dad are fighting; we can hear them through the door but if they hear any sound they'll stop and we won't be able to catch Dad in the act."
"Why didn't you think of that before you bowled me over?" I hissed, shoving my brother off me who put a hand to his forehead, mentally kicking himself.
"I just panicked, okay!"
I followed Robin out of the room and smiled innocently at a maid who looked at us suspiciously as we tiptoed up the stairs. Red had his ear pressed against the door and Colin put a finger to his lips.
I rolled my eyes. We get it: "shut the fuck up".
Pulling out my phone. I typed into the notes.
Why didn't we just get her drunk like our first plan?
I passed my phone to Robin who read it before typing back.
We took our opportunity when Colin heard them yelling. If nothing happens, it's back to plan A. The maids are making eggnog as we speak.
All of a sudden, we heard the arguing came to an abrupt stop. Slowly, the four of us turned our heads and stared at each other with panic in our eyes.
"SCATTER!" Red hissed as he sped down the hall. Colin climbed off the ground and slipped before running. Robin ran down the stairs and I sprinted after him.
Albert McKinin opened his office door and looked down the halls before yelling my name, "Soren!"
My foot was on the first step; I let my posture relax in way to seem less guilty. Robin was staring up at me the third step away from me. He lay flat on his stomach so he wouldn't be caught.
I turned to him and leant against the marble railing, "father?"
"What are you doing?" He asked. His jaw was clenched and I saw Mum peep from over his shoulder. Her face wasn't bruised from what I could see, though her eyes seemed nervous.
A lump formed in my throat as she kept our gaze, "I just came back from the gym, going to get some food."
My father had blue eyes: eyes that never cease to be dissatisfied.
"Are you sure?" His voice was dangerously low, giving me a chance to tell the truth but there was no way he was getting anything from me.
"Yes." I said sarcastically, climbing down the stairs skipping the stair that Robin was laying on. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest. Knowing my father, I knew he was watching my head disappear as I walked further down.
The boys gathered in the kitchen, all of us agreeing it was back to plan A. Dad was leaving for the night to attend a business dinner. He'd only be gone for four hours at the most.
The plan was set: all we had to do was to wait for the Boss to leave. It was around half past eight, when he informed us he was leaving. We said goodbye and continued watching our movie.
As soon as the door closed, Robin jumped off the couch and ran out the theatre, talking into his phone in a hushed voice. His friend lived a few blocks away and could give us a warning of our father's return, though they'd only give us a few more minutes.
It was a battle station; Colin was in the kitchen adding vodka to the eggnog as I walked up the stairs to get mom. The boys agreed she was most likely to stop her work to hang out with me for a bit, considering I've never asked anything of her in my life.
Red was choosing a movie before going to check if Colin had succeeded in his efforts.
I knocked on her study door and waited for her to answer. Opening the door, I found my mother typing one handed on her computer while holding up a piece of paper to her face.
"Oh, Soren; what a lovely surprise." She smiled kindly and put the paper down, standing up as I walked towards her.
"Hey mom," I said awkwardly rubbing the back of head, cursing my brothers for making me do the dirty work, "Colin and I made Eggnog to surprise you."
My words seemed forced and unrealistic but her face was kind and I got a burst of confidence.
"Would you like to join us in the theatre and eat with us?" I asked politely, each word articulated to protection. It honestly made me feel sick to be this proper.
She rubbed her tired eyes, "I don't know; I am pretty busy dear—"
"You don't have to watch the whole movie with us." I offered, trying to act as natural as possible considering I've never talked to the lady I call 'Mum'.
She smiled, "I guess a break wouldn't hurt."
We walked down the stairs together and I led her into the theatre, where Red sat looking on his phone and Robin stood up and smiled. I left to carry the glasses of Eggnog in, making sure Mom's 'special drink' was in my right hand.
We sat in the leather couches as everyone drunk. I hated eggnog with passion and had to force myself not to dry ranch as I sculled it, feeling the urge to vomit.
It wasn't until Fiona had drunk the entire large glass, that I realised how much alcohol Colin had put in. She swayed just sitting on the seat, looking into the cup with a weak sad expression.
"Mom?" Red asked. We all watched as she swayed once, licked her glass before glancing up at Red.
"Yes, Yellow?" Her voice was slurred. She stuck a finger in the cup and traced the inside of the cup before sticking that finger in her mouth.
"What happened to your eye yesterday?" Red said slowly and clearly, taking the cup away from her.
She looked down at her shoes and tapped them together twice before looking up at me, "Did I ever tell you, Soren, that you have beautiful hair?"
I pulled her hands away as she went to run her hands through my sweaty hair.
"Mom, did Dad punch you? At any point, ever?" I asked slowly, holding her gaze as she stared at me miserably.
"No...no, of course not." She was talking slowly as if she was searching for the right words.
"What happened to your eye?" Red asked again, his voice was gentle as he tried to not overwhelm the poor drunk lady. We had to do this fast so she could sober up before Dad got home.
"Someone accidentally elbowed me at work the other day." She said calmly, as if it was common knowledge, "Yellow, why did I call you yellow?"
Red placed his hand on her shoulder, "You called me Red because I was born in a Switzerland, in a small cabin in the snowy mountains. The only thing they could find to wrap me in was red blanket..."
Mom sat deep in thought for a moment before asking seriously, "Then why did I call you yellow?"
"Okay! That's enough eggnog for you- time for an early bed." Robin said standing up, taking mom under one arm and Colin holding her up under the other.
They walked out of the room as Red spoke, "Maybe Dad isn't as bad as we think he is, Soren."
I shrugged, "He has always been a dickhead."
J A Y
I opened the door and flopped down the coach from exhaustion. The tattoo parlour has been surprisingly and unusually busy, not mention The Smoothie Bar has been packed.
I looked around at the room upside down as I hung off the couch, knowing it had to be clean before Dad woke up at 5am.
Cleaning the dishes, I felt my eyes grow heavy from exhaustion. I set the pillows upright, put the coffee shot in the machine ready for the morning, and set the table for breakfast for one before opening my bedroom door.
I fell asleep on top of the bed still in uniform... not knowing Soren stood barefoot in the frozen grass, watering the roses.
-
Fun fact; I don't have my computer with me so this whole story has been typed out on my phone. Yes, I'm going to have arthritis by the age of twenty.
I really don't want to bribe you into voting (*Cough* I'll prob update quicker if you do *cough*) but it'd help this book get popular all because of YOU.
If you believe it's good enough for your vote, then I am very much honoured.