XX ~ Piece By Piece

12.1K 420 110
                                    

{I'll Be Good - Jaymes Young}

...With the warning to help me see myself clearer, I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed, I'll be a better man today...

----

June 23rd

        Addictions become addictions when we try and fix something broken by putting on a bandaid. It never lasts, but we keep going back for that temporary solution to fill the cracks and emptiness in our lives. We all want to fix ourselves, but none of us wants to admit why we need fixing.

----

{FLASHBACK}

     "Rosalind! Fix my tie for me, would you, my dear?" Dad stood in the hallway, combing his hair back like Danny Zuko.

     The house smelled of air freshener and cleanliness. Oh, and food. Lots and lots of food. A banner hung in the lounge over the wine glasses cabinet.

CONGRATS BODHI.

     Bodhi Bennett, the high school graduate and soon to be a college freshman. While my entire family hoisted him up on a pedestal for the whole world to see, I felt a pang of insecurity about the words that loomed over us. It meant he would be leaving.

    "Oh, Alex! Not that tie, pick another! It's clashing with the napkins!" 

     Mom shooed him away to pick a tie that wasn't silky purple. As Dad passed me in his newly polished shoes that still stunk of the polish he had basted them in, he patted me on the head, his smile wide and dazzling.

    "'Scuse me, angel," Dad squeezed past me on the staircase as it wound around the walls. "Your Mom is having a little bit of a meltdown over napkins, so I have to go and change my tie." We both laughed at the absurdity of her demands but humoured her nonetheless.

        From the minute Bodhi graduated high school, Mom had a twinkle of something in her eye, and she was fixated on the party ever since. Sure our house was big and had lots of rooms for people to roam around in so no one would be huddled around a sofa, making small talk in the ever-decreasing oxygen, but the guest list seemed like something for a coronation, not graduation.

        I had been sitting in my party dress for a little over half an hour as Mom and Dad whizzed from room to room, double and triple-checking everything for the evening's festivities. I, on the other hand, sat patiently waiting for the one person who I would want to spend time with—my Brother.

    "Mom?" I asked through the glossy railing of the staircase. 

     Mom was primping her hair in the large mirror that hung on the wall in the hallway. Bodhi was meant to come and help set up but called to say that he and a few friends were going to buy some new clothes, so would 'sadly miss out on the pâté and crackers'. He promised he would be home, refusing to leave me to the fate of the family members and their relentless questions about 'school' and 'college' and 'are you not completely thrilled for your brother' all night before they all descended into a drunken stupor.

    "Yes, honey?"

     Mom's frantic preparations were still very much underway as she continued to check that everything was ready.

    "When is Bodhi getting here?" I asked.

   "Anytime sweetie, you know your brother. Fashionably late is his speciality," she laughed slightly before something came to her attention. "Oh, honey, would you play the piano for us later? Your uncle still hasn't heard you play." 

Summer RainWhere stories live. Discover now