Leaving never stops hurting

I grinned as my Mum plonked a plate of golden, steamy and dripping with maple syrup pancakes on the table infront of me. Fresh strawberries littered the ceramic and the finest sprinkling of icing sugar covered everything.

“There you go Mucky pup” she smiled and ruffled my already bed messy hair. I shook her off and dug into my breakfast.

It was delicious.

“Thankyou” my words were muffled with sweetness and I washed my mouthful of pancake down with orange juice. She nodded at me and then paused. A strange look crossed her round face and uncertainty flooded her stance. She twiddled a lock of her red hair and bit her lip. 

“Hey ummm Love bug” she began and I stopped eating. Love bug was my ‘I’ve got some bad news’ name.

I nodded, my tawny hair falling into my eyes.

“Well...ummm actually, you go and get dressed okay, we can talk later” before I could even object, she had taken my plate away and disappeared into the kitchen.

Well that’s not right...she is hiding something…

I furrowed my brow and kicked into my morning routine. 

Brushed teeth, done! Gotten changed, yup! Bed made, finished! My eyebrows stayed down the whole time, almost as if by staying so they could help me figure out what was bothering my usually chill and happy mother.

“Hey Charlie” I jumped up from my puzzle solving space (the empty bathtub) and raced downstairs.

“Yup?” My mum jerked her head back, slightly startled by my eager response. She was seated at the dinner table and had a full, undrunk cup of coffe infront of her. It looked cold and she looked stressed.

“Well ummm, I have something for you” she reached behind her and pulled out a little green wrapped box. Before she handed it to me though, she searched my face as if I were the one hididng something.

“Open it” she didnt sounds as excited as she usually did when presents were being opened, even unexpected and totally random presents. My fingers tore away at the wrapping paper and I pulled out a blue box. I flipped over the cardboard and my mouth dropped. 

In it’s package and protected by a layer of plastic was a sleek and black new phone. The screen was unmarked and no cracks were to be seen. The case was my favourite colour, orange and it had a photo of Homer simpson on it, eating his pink iced donut.

“Mum, no, why do I have this? It's way too expensive for a rando prezi, I mean I didnt even get a phone for my birthday...why now?” I fired questions at my mother without even remembering to say thankyou. 

“It’s just a nice gift for my amazing son” She bit her lip and I narrowed my eyes.

We didnt have enough money to splurge on things like this when we felt like it so why did I have one of the newest and most expensive I-phones yet?

The doorbell rang. 

“Oh no, oh no, oh no” my mum murmed and jumped up. “Look Charlie, dont freak ok but Your ummmm dad is here...I’ll go and bring him in” she was gone before her words hit me...and boy did they hit me. 

My gut felt like it had been punched and my stomach like it had started to eat itself.

WHAT IS MY DAD DOING HERE?

Panic ran hay wire around my brain and I struggled to contain my fear. 

I hadn’t seen my dad in years, three to be exact and since the age of seven I had tried to avoid him like my life depended on it. It had been working too...until now.

The last time I’d seen him had been christmas...the Christmas my parents were getting divorced. It had been about money and fighting and loyalty or something, I was too upset to really care about reasons and I had felt the angriest and saddest I’d ever felt when I saw my father walk out of our house for the last time. So since then I’d left him alone like you’d leave a dead rat alone but now he was there, in the house he’d left me crying at and I had about zero point five seconds to figure out how to receive him.

Don’t panic, come on! Just breathe, just breathe

I sucked in as much air as I could and felt the blood in my head rush about. I was about to try another bug breath when he walked in. He was exactly the same as I remberd him. 

Scruffy t-shirt, denim jeans, muddy boots, unkempt black hair and a britsly moustache. It ripped open every wound he’d left in my heart by leaving and emotion attacked me from every angle.

“Hiya slugger” even his voice sounded just how I’d remembered it and tears blurred my vision. “Oh no, dont cry buddy” I felt his arms wrap around me and his musky scent fill my nostills….but it was too much. I pushed him away between my cries and yelled feeling I didnt even know I had.

“Mark, leave, outside, now” It was my mother's voice, unusulay sharp, that reached me through my chaotic thoughts. I stopped moving.

“But Helen…” my dad began

“No, out” I felt my mother cocoon me this time and I let her.

It’s okay, it’s okay

“I’m so sorry my boy, are you okay, this is big for you, I get it, he meant alot didnt he?” I nodded and sniffled. I felt dumb. I’d more than overreacted to seeing my dad and I hated upsetting my mum.

“I’m sorry” I sounded pathetic and scrunched up my eyes to stop them from leaking tears down my cheeks.

“No, dont be….do you want him to leave?” I felt calmed by my mother's smooth voice and I almost said yes to her question...but I couldn’t. My dad, no matter how bad he’d left me, deserved to be heard out. I’d have to man up and face him.

I struggled out of my mum's arms and dragged myself out of the dining room and into the hallway.

He wasn’t there.

“Dad?” I croaked and peered around, “Dad?”. No one replied.“Dad?’ my voice sounded scared even to myself. Then, a flash of green caught my eye.

I took a step towards the front door.

A piece of paper with scrawling writing on it was tacked to the wood. I steadied myself already knowing what it would say. I picked it up and let my already watering eyes read the message.

I’m sorry

That was all and he was gone.

My knees hit the floor and I felt soft arms cradle me. I wsnt even aware I was crying but I felt the exact same I had that Christmas.

Hopeless and angry...and I fekt nothing else.