Being Me

Chapter Eight

In the quiet of my room, I pull out my phone, staring at it for several seconds before unlocking it and clicking on Rachel's contact, I want her, I need her, I need to talk to her,to hear her voice.
I click the call button, it rings for several seconds before being declined, I frown, okay, maybe she's on public transport. I shoot her a message.

Me:
Hey Rachel, it's me,look,I was wondering if we could talk?

I stare at my phone screen as I wait, 'typing' appears under Rachel's contact before disappearing for several seconds then reappearing.

Rachel:
What is there to talk about?

Her mood is obviously entirely different good from the day prior, it may only be one message but I can tell.

Me:
Look, it's complicated, meet up and talk face to face?

Rachel:

I really don't want to talke at the moment Séan, seriously, if you really wanted to break up you could at least have messaged me yourself.

Break up? Dread fills me and I hurriedly type back a response.

Me:
What do you mean? I never said that.

*@ 𝑹𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕,𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏.*

I open the message and my eyes widen as I read it.
I throw my phone to the ground and storm out of my room, I'm angry, so very angry.

"Mum!" I shout as I sprint down the stairs, skidding to a stop in the living room doorway.

"What?" Mum replies, not looking away from the TV screen, this only makes me more angry.

"You told Rachel that I wanted to break up with her!" I shouted, glaring at the back of her head.

"Yes, yes I did." She replies calmly, her bored gaze still fixed on the program.
How could she do this to me?
Why would she?
Anger fills each and every atom of my body and I let out a shout of frustration, kicking at the open living room door which sends it swinging on its hinges.
This is what makes mum turn her head, her face is red with annoyance, "Don't you dare kick the door! Yes I got you and your stupid girlfriend to break up, it was about bloody time, you don't just get with someone to use them Séan. Now grow up and shove off to your room!" She screeches, her tone sending a cold, uncomfortable shiver down my spine.

Tears prick at my eyes and threaten to fall as I turn on my heel, stomping back up the stairs.
"And give me that damn phone of yours, you're not talking to those friends for a long time young man!" Mum bellows up after me.

My stomps speed up and I run into my room, snatching my phone up and running to the top of the stairs where I throw it down, it lands loudly, breaking on the contact with the hard wooden floorboards, glass and bits of plastic flying across the floor. "There, have it!" I shout, stomping back to my room and slamming the door shut just as tears begin falling down my cheeks.

I'm sat, curled in on myself on my bed, tears still slowly trickling down my face, when a small, timid knock, sounds on my door before it creaks open slowly. "Séan?" Otis's voice speaks, with a sniff, I lift my head up from my knees and turn to him, he's standing awkwardly in the partially open door, a look of worry and confusion on his face. "You're crying." He says, his eyes wide as they see the tears smeared on my face, I sniff loudly and pat the bed beside me, signalling that he can come in. In seconds he has closed the door behind him and scrambled up onto the mattress wrinkling the sheets as he uses them to pull himself up.
He sits, legs folded beside me, I wrap an arm around his shoulders and he holds a couple of my fingers in his small hand.

"Why are you crying?" He asks innocently.

I think for a few seconds before replying, "Because I feel sad." I croak out.

"Why?"

"Because... Mummy did something not very nice to me."

"Is that why you and mummy were shouting?"

"Yes, it was."

Otis sighs loudly, I don't know how much he understands about this, I don't know if I want him to or not.
"Why do people fight?" He asks, beginning to fidget.

I watch him for a couple seconds before replying slowly, "Well... I guess, when people have their feelings hurt... or if someone has their feelings hurt but the person who hurt them thinks they did the right thing, shouting at each other is a way to...make themselves feel better perhaps..."

Otis sits silently for a few seconds, seeming to be taking in what I just said, "So Mummy thinks she did the right thing but you don't because it hurt your feelings?" He asks, looking up at me,I nod, he is right, I think.

"Can we play with my Lego now?" Otis asks suddenly, a grin on his face, I nod and slide of the bed, helping Otis off after me.

"Oh, Otis?" I say as we approach my door, he stops and looks back at me, "Don't tell mummy about our conversation please? Let's keep it a secret."

"or mummy might hurt your feelings again?"Otis asks, cocking his head to the side.

"yes, she might." I nod.

"Okie dokie." Otis chirps and we resume to walking out of my room and down the hall to his.

Maybe, Otis is right. Just maybe...

(A/n: Happy Christmas to those who celebrate that, happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate that, and happy holdidays to those who don't celebrate anything ◉⁠‿⁠◉ )
[09/10/22]