Roger Eno - A Paler Sky

…

— You don't need to pay attention to what they're saying. It's always the same, trust me.

— No, it isn't. – Usually I don't go against my sister's orders, because she is older and knows what's with my family way better than me. Today is different. – Dad isn't afraid of anything. Spiders do not frighten him, neither scorpions or basilisks or ironites or Lizard Men, but then he went home and he looked different, like awfully different. It's not how he usually looks to me.

— You said nothing frightens him, Learie. Well, except one thing. – She said, as if being well aware of what happened with dad for his mood to change that suddenly.

— The Worm Hydra? – I asked, thinking about the ugliest creature I could imagine.

— Worse... A living relative. – She said in a serious tone, which does not fit her at all. – Come on, let's go outside. Leave them alone.

— I'll be there in a minute, sis. I forgot to change my clothes. – I said, going upstairs. The wardrobe in my bedroom is so big, I wonder if it can lead me to another dimension. Oh, silly me! I know it doesn't, but wouldn't it be fun if it did?

A better world, a better place, I'd bring Moira with me too. Outside is the only place she goes to whenever she is upset, and before I reach the front door's knob, I hear my parents talking in the kitchen. Not a casual talk, I'd say. It's like they don't want to talk about it, at all, but they insist on doing it.

I take a peek and I see mom walking around. Poor mom, she has to hold my siblings with both hands to calm them down. Usually dad holds one of them too, but he doesn't this time. I guess he can't comfort anyone if he looks more like a fearsome gargoyle with static eyes rather than a Royal Guard the people can look at and feel safe just by having his presence somewhere. It's like even my siblings know and they are so sad that they do not recognize their father anymore.

— The old man... Still crazy as ever. – My dad said, sitting on a shadowy corner. It looks like he is injured, but I see no wounds. Not on his skin. – I visited him early in the morning. I thought he'd apologize for what he did last week because I heard from my uncle that he really felt bad about the things he said, and to my surprise, he was fine. Well, he seemed fine, my mistake. He said I was not his son anymore because I went to war and my death has been stated on a letter he had in hand. I took the letter and I saw nothing. Just a blank paper. There was nothing written on it, but would he listen? He was so convinced that I was a ghost that he threw a dish on my chest. I was wearing armor, I did not feel anything, nor should I have. He yelled until the others calmed him down and I could care less about staying.

I only visited grandpa once, and he did not look like anything dad described him as. Maybe he was doing better back then or I was too young to remember.

— Dear Reis. – Mom looks so upset, yet she tries her best to comfort dad rather than going outside. Because that would be easy. – But it wasn't the first time he panicked like that, Grant.

— Indeed, it wasn't. He's been in war, though.

— That doesn't justify his behavior. He knows he is sick, and if you say that your armor triggered him somehow, I'll say that it was unfair for him to treat you like that. You're the only son who ever visits him regularly, while the others pretty much abandoned him.

— Sigh... Why do I even try, Elmyra? – Each time dad talks, the shadows on the wall grow larger as if they're about to devour him as a whole. – Like, he's never going to be better. It feels hopeless.

— I don't think it isn't. – Fortunately, mom is there to pull him out of the void.

There is nothing I can do about it. I leave them alone, like my sister said. No matter the difficulties, they can take care of each other. Besides, I don't want to listen to the rest of their conversation.

— You heard them talking, did you? – Moira asked as soon as I came under her umbrella.

— Yes. That's why I want to stay with you, sis.

— You too are escaping from them, aren't you? It's useless. – She spoke with a kind of heaviness in her voice, one that did not belong to a young lady. I know what she meant by those words, eventually we'd get home. Everything feels so wrong and uncertain, except one thing.

— Who said I was? I'm here to be your company. – I said.

My sister is sad and beautiful, like a weeping willow. But sometimes, I do see her smile for a brief moment.