Snake Bite Heart With a Bubble Gum Smile

I can't say I fully forgive them. I can't say I’ll ever fully forgive them. I can't say I feel like I completely matter to them.

The presents were nice. They found things that I wanted in my journal and they bought them.

It feels like their trying to buy my love or trying to bribe me into staying. Maybe they believe that if they give me all the material things I want, I would stay. They don't realize material things don't matter.

We didn't get to talk about why I left. My parents didn't seem worried about that at all. They seem to think everything is fine and dandy, that I am here for good. Do they know I can leave at any moment? They seem to think that hug solved everything. It didn't. Years of emotional neglect don't just go away with one hug.

I didn't sleep at night. The bed is too soft. It's not something I'm used to anymore. Even my carpeted floors couldn't recreate the grass from the park. I should sleep in the backyard tonight.

I am lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Alex is supposed to wake me up soon. Though his plans will be spoiled since I haven't slept.

I am exhausted. I don't think I can last through a shopping trip.

My door opens. Alex peaks in, notices I'm awake. He steps into the room fully, confusion is clear on his face.

"Why are you up? It's five in the morning," he sits next to my leg.

Why is he up at five in the morning?

"I couldn't sleep. My bed is so soft. I'm used to sleeping on my park bench or on the grass," I answer.

"Your park bench?"

I nod.

"You have your own park bench?"

I nod again.

Is it that hard to understand?

"How long have you been staying at said park bench?"

"Three years."

"I feel so stupid for not checking the park first."

"You should."

He lies down and stares at the ceiling with me. Minutes pass. My exhaustion is getting worse. I want to sleep, I just can't. I can't find comfort on this bed.

"I have an idea," Alex pops up to a sitting position.

I tilt my head.

"C'mon," Alex jumps up.

He waits for me to stand before leading me to his room. He swings the door open. It's still the same messy bedroom he's always had. I see a new guitar, a few more pictures of scantily clad women, a wall decorated in pictures of me.

"When did you add that?" I ask, gesturing to the wall.

"After we found the pictures under your bed," he answers.

I examine the wall. Most of them are pictures from the box. Some are baby pictures that I didn't even know we had.

"Come here," Alex whines.

I turn to look at him. He sits on his bed in his boxers and v-neck undershirt.

"What do you want, Alex?"

"My bed is stiffer than your bed. I figure you and I could take a nap like we did when you first born," he explains.

I don't remember us doing that. Then again, I was only a baby, not even capable of holding the memory forever.

"Don't we have to go shopping?" I ask.

"I was going to bring my friends with us and they won't be up till twelve. We have plenty of time to nap," he says. "So come here," he whines again.

"Okay, Alex," I slip under his covers.

He slips under too, turning off the lamp next to his bed. I snuggle close to my sibling's body and he wraps a protective arm around me. Cologne drifts around my nose. The stiffness of the bed is comforting. My eyelids grow heavy.

"Night, night," he whispers.

"Night, night," I whisper back.

My brain drifts to sleep.