The Hours We Have

chapter one

I walked through the quiet house. 

I was a morning person, unlike my brothers, and it was mostly because I worked very early shifts at work. But, I liked to watch the sunrise over the sleeping city, it was one of my favorite things to do when the silence was everlasting. I suppressed a yawn, the wood floor was cool beneath my bare feet. 

It was a small house. Not too small but not too large. It was perched on the outskirts of town, in a little community of friendly neighbors. With our giant porch, spacious backyard, and freshly painted window shutters, someone would almost think that we were a picture-perfect family. Appearances were foolish, images were fake. We were more dysfunctional than anything. 

With a steaming cup of coffee nestled in my hands, I headed for the living room this morning. I found it ironic that I was usually always alone, either by daylight or by night, and nobody even knew. Well, besides my best friend, I usually face-timed her every spare moment I had. 

My oldest brother, Mikeal, didn't usually come downstairs until closer to seven o'clock. We briefly shared mornings but words were few and I felt hollower each time. Both of us were so busy working, we didn't even see each other more than a glimpse. It just didn't feel like our lives fit together. 

In fact, the more I looked around the lonely house, the more I felt like it wasn't home. After our parents had died, it felt like everything that ever meant anything to me was gone. It was an empty space, just like the hole in my heart would never be filled again. 

My eyes wandered over the family pictures hanging on the wall. I paused for a moment, right in front of the biggest framed picture. We were all extremely happy in it. I was on Ezra's shoulder, much to his dismay as I remember, and the twins were half-tussling, while Mikeal stood nearby with sparkling blue eyes. Our parents were smiling in the background, arms around each other, and that was one of the last happy memories I had with them. 

I looked away. 

I didn't think I would ever heal because these memories wouldn't let me go. I believe the worst had passed now since it had been three years, but sometimes I still cried at night. Sometimes I couldn't stop the pain in my chest. Sometimes I fell apart and then picked myself up because no one else would. 

I loved every single one of my brothers but they just didn't understand me like my mom did. They were more concerned about fighting with each other lately or disappearing without a word. I didn't know which was worse. 

Still, those pictures on the wall remained as a reminder that we were still family, if all else had faded. We still had our memories together. But our childhood had ended when mom and dad left the picture. We had to be grown-ups now and we had to look after each other. I thought it to be rather depressing because I hadn't been truly happy since that day. 

I just faked a smile and everything was fine. 

ꕥ 

I sent a quick text to my best friend before I slipped my phone into my pocket. 

I bent down and scooped up my skateboard before I closed the garage door behind me. It was still early morning, I could smell the sweet dew that had yet to evaporate beneath the sun, and I hopped onto my skateboard. Hopefully, somebody would remember that I had told them I was meeting my best friend for breakfast, but I doubted it because boys didn't listen to anything, so I figured I would get a text from someone when they woke up.