Born and Broken Every Single Time.

There is a song to go with the chapter, but I couldn't upload it. It's optional, if you just open
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0EtvF6U6xw in a new tab/window for the duration of the chapter ^-^

My first day back home had been strange to say the least. I felt so unfamiliar to my surroundings even though this was the house I had grown up in. When it came to dinner time I fully noticed how much they were fussing over me. I really didn't like it. I wanted things to be normal so this could be a new start, but having them fuss over me like this seemed to remind me more of how they had something to be sorry for. As we sat down to vegetarian lasagne, I noticed that they were opting for the vegetarian meal too, which once again pointed out to me their desperate efforts. They hated vegetarian food.

"Stop making a fuss," I said plainly. "Just be normal. Don't eat this food that you don't even like just to try and impress me."

"Oh," my mother mumbled. "S-sorry Frank, we just wanted to-"

"I know you're wanting to sort everything and that, but eating food you don't like isn't going to do anything," I smiled. "Please, can you both just be normal? I hate being fussed over."

They both seemed to nod in agreement at my point, realising that their fussiness was only highlighting the problems there was to begin with. After dinner, I offered to clean the dishes just so they could have a rest and they obliged immediately. I still felt they were just going along with everything I said in case disagreeing would cause a problem. I heard them talking away in the living room as I worked my way through the pile of dishes, telling of how it was nice to have me home but they didn't want things to go wrong again. I smiled slightly at hearing them say that, but felt slightly tense at the fact they were worried that it could go back to how it was.

After drying the last of the dishes and putting them back in their places in the cupboards, I had a strong urge to look in the drinks cabinet. I know I should trust my parents, and I know that my mum was sober, but I couldn't help but wonder… I opened the door to find it was packed full of wine, champagne and beer, the three usual drinks they kept. I could view it in two ways – be distraught that there was drink here, or be happy that it hadn't been drunk. Surprisingly, I was happy to see it there because time and time again I would find it empty in the past, finding empty glass bottles strewn all over the house. This being here meant that she was controlling it at least. This meant it truly was a new start.

I popped into the living room just to tell them I was going to my room for the night, just to have a quiet night. They once again accepted my words and let me do as I pleased. I knew I could probably abuse their accepting nature and get anything I wanted, but I didn't want to. I wanted to be normal. Normality was the only thing I'd gladly abuse having. What I would give to have one of those "motherly hugs" that smother me that I had had from Mrs. Way, but from my own mum, and it being meant. Something so simple, and that was the sort of things I craved.

I slumped on my bed as soon as I got into my room, pulling the duvet over me even though I was still fully clothed. I just wanted a night to relax. I put my phone on the bedside table and started flicking through the channels in search of something. I tried the film channels, shamelessly hoping Armageddon was on one of them just so I could remember the night before, but it wasn't.

I settled for some shitty horror I hadn't seen before. I was watching but it wasn't really registering, to the point it was taking me a few seconds to jump at parts I got a fright at. It all seemed so distracting. I had dreaded coming home in case things hadn't changed, but they had and still I couldn't settle. It was better than I had expected, but now it seemed so final. If I hadn't left the Way's house and come home, then it meant there was still something to happen before Gerard left. Now I was home, there was nothing but a countdown to the goodbye.

It sounds so final, but it wasn't even going to be the last time we saw each other. We were treating it like it was the last time we would ever see each other, like this was the final goodbye forever. It wasn't. It was more of a goodbye to the past. It was the new start for both of us that Gerard had spoken about, that he had drawn on my wall.

As much as I'd like to be happy that I was home and that my parents were trying their hardest to sort things out, I couldn't be fully content. I'd like to be happy that Gerard was having his dreams come true, and although I was more than that, I couldn't help but pity myself in the situation. I was selfish like that. This was the way everything was meant to pan out, this was the "perfect ending" but suddenly it didn't seem so perfect.

Somewhere along my line of thought I crashed out, falling asleep and not waking until the next morning. I can't remember the last time I fell asleep so early, but I guess I needed it. Even if the day wasn't physically draining, it was pretty draining emotionally. The next day was a repeat of before. They were both fussing, but trying not to make it so obvious. It seemed to be reaching a more normal level as the night drew on. We all sat watching the television together before I headed off to bed for the night. It wasn't much, but it seemed so much more like a "family" than we had done in a long time.

I found myself stirring and looked at my phone to find the time was 6.27am. I dragged myself out of bed, feeling fully awake so I accepted I wouldn't be able to grab another hour or so kip. I headed downstairs and into the kitchen, putting the kettle .. I set to putting the bread in the toaster. I hopped up on the counter as I waited for the water to boil, hearing someone carefully walk down the stairs. My mum walked into the kitchen, wrapped up in her dressing down and pyjamas and yawning before speaking.

"Hi," she said as her yawn trailed off. "You're up awfully early."

"Fell asleep early," I shrugged. "Why are you up?"

"I heard you get up, I wanted to talk."

"What about?" I asked, letting her know I was still paying attention even though I was sorting my coffee. I had a bad feeling about this.

"You do know I've changed Frank," she continued quietly. "And your father and I, we're both trying…"

"I know," I pressed, forcing a smile as I turned around, handing her a coffee and receiving a thanks. "We don't need to do this."

"I know," she smiled. "I just wanted you to know, we're going to make this work."

"Yeah," I smiled. "It will work, it just might take some-"

"Time," she interrupted with a smile. "I know. I think I might head back up to bed," she said as another yawn surfaced. I told her it was probably for the best seeing as she was tired and gave her a loose hug. It didn't feel awkward per say, just very weird. I watched her turn to head back up the stairs before sorting my toast and heading into the living room.

I watched some crappy morning television for an hour or so before deciding to get ready. I got changed into some black jeans and band shirt, my nice adaptation of the school dress code, before sorting my bags. My school bag was now empty, seeing as it had been full with clothes for my moving, so I got everything back to where it should be, even though I probably wouldn't work from them, I'd just draw on them.

I left the house at about 8.10 to meet Mikey. I knew I'd get there a few minutes early, but in all honesty I just wanted out of the house before my parents got up. It was nothing against them. I knew it was our new start, but it was still just too weird for me. I wasn't used to it and leaving early seemed to ease my mind slightly. I stood outside the school gates waiting for Mikey. It felt strange to know that we only had a few weeks here left then it was exams, then after that, that was it.

I seemed to get sidetracked onto the idea of leaving for some university, which circled around me heading to the same university as Gerard. I laughed at my self when the thought popped into my mind. My thoughts seemed to latch onto my desperation of the situation. As Mikey appeared walking down the street, I smiled as I walked to meet him, realising that we were now in the final countdown; 10 days.