In The Dark

Number Eight. Darkness

Three Years Ago

It's strange being on holiday, our family has never been much of one, so I am still cautious about their sudden desire to play happy family. Suppose I am not complaining too much because in all honesty I could use a holiday, even if it's with them and all their psychotic glory.

Work has been a bitch lately; I get that people can't choose their bosses, but no one asked him to be such an asshole and I certainly didn't agree to be his personal punching bag. Then there's school, college has only been going for a couple weeks, but I already despise it, I don't know what possessed me to go back considering how much I hated High School.

It isn't he fact I have no ambitions because I do, I have many dreams that are unattainable.

I don't have the willpower or concentration, it's like something is off in my brain, perhaps it was the wishy-washy way I was raised, Toby- my brother- works from Dad. Mum works from home, I assume it is just some Facebook group shit.

Could even be construction but I have never paid attention because when they do talk, it is never to me, has always made me think that they are into the more sinister lines of work. That would be wild even for my life. Our relationship is strange, I know that if they were to die, I would be sad. I'd grieve deeply and for a long time but that's because they're family, not because I love him.

It sounds harsh, of course I love them, Mum and Toby. Dad I could take or leave, he isn't abusive, he's just off. Like he's vacant on the inside but not in the stupid way.

The realisation that you don't have to have an abusive family, or to have been neglected during your childhood to have a bad family, was a hard one. I thought for a long time that I couldn't complain or admit things weren't great because it wasn't like other people's situations; that they had it worse.

They do but that doesn't mean it makes living life any easier, they take interest in my life and care about my career, but they don't love me. It's the harsh reality, I was a mistake that they've never forgiven themselves for and now I am nothing more than a guest in their house.

They don't love me.

So why are we on some retreat in the middle of some campsite, fair enough we aren't in tents but a beautiful cabin but a holiday here is suspicious.

We're having a family breakfast this morning; we do this back home whenever we are all around but these past four days they've spent inside. Claiming they are relaxing but it seems it is only kicked in now, like they are finally letting their guards down.

At least Mum is, she has always been the most involved in my life, I think if any of them cared about me, the best chance would be her. Might have something to do with the whole she gave birth to me thing, maybe she is proud. Almost like she is so caught up in my Father's life that she doesn't have time for her own life, much less her daughters.

In school I always saw those kids with these amazing bonds with their mothers, I envied them the most. It looked so natural and peaceful to have your Mum love and protect you from all the pain in life.

I haven't seen many other people outside; in the few times I have left to explore but it doesn't stop me from putting on some makeup. It's not insecurity, but it does make me feel livelier.

Maybe I should have been grateful for my genes but in past experiences it has only drawn me unwanted attention.

A loud crunch echoes through the small wooden house and the shriek of my mother is loud, I drop my clips and turn in my seat, ready to run out of the room to help her, but the masked man that stands in my doorway stops all possible attempts.