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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 18:13:49 GMT
The house was too quiet for my liking. Much to quiet. It felt empty. I close my eyes tightly as if in some way I could hear him cry.
Nothing.
I lean my head down, as a few stray tears roll down my face and onto the table. I wipe my eyes. I couldn't stop crying. I had no clue what was wrong, at almost everything I'd start crying. I wanted it to stop.
I glance down at the letter, grasped tightly in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.
Dear Mr and Mrs Hunt,
We are sorry to inform you but due to recent events we have seen that you two are unfit to be parents. Your son, Alexander Rowan Gideon Hunt, will be taken from your custody and sent to a foster family. We are deeply sorry but it is for his own good. You will not be granted visitation rights until we sit fit for that to happen.
I can feel my hand drop the coffee cup, hearing it smash against the tiles. I think what made me cry the fifth time I've read the letter is the fact it says Mr and Mrs Hunt.
The engagement ring is set down in the table in front of me. I close my eyes again, not wanting to break down. Not like this.
I don't remember moving but the next thing I know, is I'm on my knees on the floor, shards of glass around me, a broken shard in my hand.
This was the cause of all this. It was all 'cos I broke down. I showed weakness. I fell apart.
And no one was there to pull me back together.
I want to be angry at Ian, at Charlie and my father, at anyone.
But I can't. I'm just angry at myself. I wasn't a good mother.
I paid the price.
Never again would I hear my Alex cry, the house would be like a ghost town.
Never again would I see those big blue eyes and that mop of dark brown hair.
Never again would I hear that little laugh of his.
I drop the broken shard, getting back to my feet, mumbling a silent 'Reparo' to fix the cup.
"Never again." I whisper, pushing my sleeve down.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 18:25:44 GMT
You're a sick, pathetic bastard.
My conscience has been going into overdrive all the way back home from being with Shell.
You're an unfaithful, sick, pathetic bastard.
The words have lost all meaning. No matter what word is put in front of the insult, it doesn't mean anything. I'm sickened by how little remorse I have.
It's very wrong to love two people at once and I know this.
I decide I can't really sit on the steps for much longer because it looks like it's going to rain again. There are a lot of reasons I don't want to go inside though and this might just balance out the incentive that the weather brings.
I don't want to see Maddie again because I don't know what sort of feelings this will bring but I'm sure I won't like them. I'm scared of falling out of love with her and I'm not sure why, and I'm scared that I'll lose my temper with her because I still can't get rid of the misdirected resentment the suicide attempt has brought with it.
I don't want to see Alex either. He's just a reminder that I'm still failing. I shouldn't even be a father. I'm 18, I'm barely even an adult. I shouldn't be a father. Maybe it'd be better if I wasn't.
And then there's Shell as well...still heavily on my mind...but I can't allow my thoughts to go into too much detail because it's not my most pressing concern right this second.
I glance upwards at the sky again, thoughts briefly returning to Row. I think looking at the sky is forever going to remind me of Row and I don't know why. I just know I don't want her to be dead. She'd know what to do. She'd explain everything I was feeling in words I could understand in that condescendingly bubbly way of hers.
I decide thinking is getting me nowhere, so I get to my feet, fumbling in my pocket for key and pushing it into the lock.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 18:37:06 GMT
I hear thunder outside and my mum's voice floats back into my head.
Ever since my freak out at the hospital I hadn't been able to get her out of my head.
When it thunders baby girl, means the sky is hurting, 'cos someone we love is hurting.
"Yeah, I'm hurting. Hurting a lot." I whisper softly, dropping my gaze to my feet. My bags have been packed. My choice has been made.
I feel my eyes start to sting again as I catch sight of Alex's baby blanket.
"What have I done?" I whisper softly, putting my head in my hands.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 18:54:24 GMT
The house is very quiet and it takes me a moment to put my finger on why. I can't heat Alex crying, or the Maddie talking to Alex somewhere in the house.
I hadn't realised I'd become accustomed to hearing this, but without it, something is obviously wrong.
"Hello?" I call out into the house, shutting the door behind me, hanging up my jacket.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 18:59:18 GMT
I get up quietly, pulling on my jacket, slipping the blanket into my bag.
You'll never get to sing to him again.
I grip the chair, as stumble slightly. I hadn't been feeling too well for a while now.
Lack of sleep probably.
Or the fact your not eating and thorwing up everything you do eat.
I slip the engagement ring back onto my finger for some reason unknown to me, as I bed down, picking up one of my bags.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 19:08:37 GMT
"Hello?" I call out louder, unnerved by the silence.
I glance briefly in the living room on my way past, but see that it's empty, so I carry on into the kitchen, frown deepening.
I stop in the doorway as I see her there with her bags, words failing me.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 19:17:46 GMT
I stop, glancing up at him, I wasn't expecting this.
My voice, it seems, it gone so I just hand him the letter wordlessly.
It takes all my engry not to cry again. I never knew words could hurt that much, after reading that letter I knew they could.
I lower my head, still gripping the bag in my other hand.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 19:22:26 GMT
I frown slightly at her for a moment, before finally dropping my eyes to the letter.
I read it through several times, before glancing up at her, then back at the letter again and reading it twice more.
It takes several moments to think of anything to say when my mind is so blank, but I manage eventually, "This is bollocks!"
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 19:28:16 GMT
I flinch as he yells, putting my palm to my forehead, as an attempt to stop the room from spinning.
I can feel my eyes start to burn, but I shake my head.
I wasn't going to cry anymore. Not here. Not in front of him.
"..They took him.." I whisper hoarsely.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 19:33:14 GMT
"That's fucking bollocks!" I roar.
Ah, you were right about keeping your temper then.
My temper seems to be something I can't keep in check recently, but this...I'm right about this. It's stupid.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 19:40:17 GMT
I drop my bag as he yells.
Now I really wasn't expecting that.
What were you expecting them? Him not to care? Course he cares, it's his son!
I sob softly, lowering my head, and wrapping my arms tightly around myself.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 19:45:54 GMT
"Fucking..." I trail off with nothing to come after the word, although I'm not even nearly done shouting or being pissed off. There's nothing here that I can hurt though, and the lack of this is annoying me even more.
Well, besides her. But I'm not that angry.
"When did this happen?"
When you were out fucking-...
"When did this happen!?" I have to repeat it louder when she doesn't reply in the split second I've given her to answer, but it's more because I have to drown out the voice in my head.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 19:49:08 GMT
I chut my eyes tight when he starts to yell, taking a step back away from him.
He won't hit you, you know he won't.
Yeah, well you thought he'd stop cheating too, but you know that hasn't stopped.
"I can't do this." I whisper softly, pushing past him.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 20:00:23 GMT
I grab her as she pushes past me, holding her tightly by the upper arms. I should let go, or at least loosen my grip a little, but I can't.
"Answer me."
I'm barely aware of the part of my consciousness that is shaking violently at my behaviour, and screaming at me to stop. That part doesn't matter anymore.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 20:03:06 GMT
"Let go." I whisper, not flinching at his grip.
Lowering my gaze, I feel the tears start as my head starts spinning.
Alex's laugh rings out in my head and I can feel myself start to shake,"Let go of me,"
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 20:07:21 GMT
"Then fucking answer me!" I yell, tightening my grip more without making the conscious decision to.
Right, that's it. You might as well just change your name back. Congratulations Christopher.
No, I don't want to be Christopher. I don't. I just want my son back.
There's no reply and I feel suddenly lonely and incomplete without one.
I can't quite force myself to let go of her. I need her to understand that she has to tell me everything.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 20:11:55 GMT
"When you were with her!" I yell back, my temper snapping."Now get your fucking hands off me!"
You love him, you still love him. I know you do.
Shut up mum. I don't want to hear it.
"They came and took him! When you were out with her! The fucking came and took him away from me!"
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 20:15:35 GMT
"Why did you fucking let them?" I roar, before it becomes evident that what she's screamed at me is not actually in my head and she has just said that.
My grip fails immediately and I let her go as if I've been burned.
"How the fuck-?"
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 20:19:30 GMT
"What other fucking choice did I have?!" I yell back, taking a step back, as he lets go.
Stop this right now Madeline. Stop it.
Shut up!
Pressing my palm to my forehead, it takes a moment to regain composure and I bend down gripping my bad.
"I'm not stupid," I mutter, not meeting his eyes.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 20:26:59 GMT
The urge to hurt her is growing. I resent her, everything about her. How she's let Alex go and how she knows exactly what I want to keep from her.
I won't be surprised if she turns round and accuses me of killing Row. Not that she'd be wrong.
"So now what? You're going?" I ask her softly but without expression.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 20:31:48 GMT
"That's the plan." I say softly, putting the bag down for a moment.
"I have nothing here anymore," I whisper, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. "No son, no boyfriend. I don't think I deserved either of those anyway."
Tugging my jacket closer around me, I stop, brushing my eyes with my sleeve."I'm sorry, I wasn't good enough for you."
I still love you, so much.
I gently take his hand, slipping the ring into his palm.
"I'm sorry."
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 20:39:22 GMT
After days of not feeling anything for her, I forget to breathe for a moment and then it call catches up and I feel like someone's set me on fire.
My hand closes convulsively around the ring though, and I don't say anything.
I think this is probably for the best anyway.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 20:44:17 GMT
"I'm sorry I wasn't good enough," I mumble, not breaking his gaze, but letting go of his hands.
Brushing the hair back off his forehead, I don't say anything, but every moment I spent with him, floods back in my head.
"Give it to her, or anyone. Whoever makes you happy."
Cos I know that wasn't me.
"I just want you to be happy," I say softly,"That's all I ever wanted."
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 21:03:00 GMT
"Don't," I mumble, dropping my gaze.
All the anger's drained out of me, I feel amazingly calm again. But the sadness is back. Intensified by what's happening now.
"Don't say that."
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 21:07:54 GMT
I think I can actually feel my heart breaking as I take a step back.
"They won't let me see his foster parents, won't even tell me their names." I mumble softly."I'm sorry I couldn't look after him."
It just feels like I'm not allowed to break down sometimes.
My eyes fall on my arms, where I know the scars are, where I know they'll always be.
I sigh, letting a sob escape my lips.
"I'm sorry for everything."
I'm sorry for loving you.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 21:20:39 GMT
"Don't leave me," I say the words so softly I'm not sure if she hears.
I don't even remember thinking them, they're just said before I can take them back.
I'm not even sure I'd want to take them back.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 21:27:39 GMT
It just feels like I'm not allowed to break down sometimes, you know?
I look up, hearing him say something.
He's fucking crazy, your not going to stay here. Not with this cheating scum.
"What?" I ask softly.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 21:37:12 GMT
"Don't leave me," I repeat it slightly louder, keeping my eyes on the floor.
I don't know how pitifully pathetic this actually sounds out loud, but it definitely sounds it in my head.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Jan 20, 2008 21:41:14 GMT
I don't know what to say to that. A part of me wants to be angry, wants to hate him.
I find that I can't. I can't hate him or Shell. The only person I hate is myself.
"I can't."
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 20, 2008 21:42:26 GMT
"Why?" I ask quietly.
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