Despite their timely arrival, I did not wish to greet them. Does it make sense that I am the one making a tiresome journey but I am also the one to make the effort to welcome them? I don't know how much of my reaction was spite and how much was pure hurt, but I wanted to remain in my room for as long as possible. Meeting their eyes only felt like a painful task that would eventually lead to further resentment. In truth, I don't know how much more hatred I could take before I collapsed or became something I do not wish to see.
I needed room for growth and healing but once I pass a certain point, that becomes infinitely more difficult. It may take that one look at their indifferent faces to make me realise I have long since passed that threshold, and that was something I did not wish to know yet. Irrespective of how cowardly or childish I appear to others, I settled for remaining in my room until they approached. Avoiding problems rather than facing them head on has always been my strong point. I continuously run away from anything that may harm me, and even if that is negatively impacting me at least I am here. Courage is more dangerous than cowardice.
The butler had taken everything away as he left, likely in a rush to greet my family. The silence and peace I had was short-lived as now the house appeared to be full of life. My ghost like existence failed to create the same buzz but that is unsurprising as a ghost cannot be a man no matter how hard he tries. Rather than walking through walls, my existence was bound between walls whether here or elsewhere. So, I stayed within these walls as I heard the chatter from beyond.
After some time of being in my own head while listening to the hustle and hustle of life, I heard voices coming closer and closer to me until they stood just beyond my door. It was ironic how they were now closer and yet their voices had been reduced to nothing but hushed whispers. For what reason they were being so secretive is beyond me, it only made me feel like a caged animal that was wild beyond taming. But the whispers didn't stop. They continued on as if making some sort of plan of how to approach me. You wouldn't think these people were my family.
My previous anxiety and fear had subsided as this kept on. Instead I felt nothing and my face reflected that. I was devoid of any emotions when they finally mustered up the courage to knock on my door.
'Come in.' I called out.
After a slight delay I could hear the doorknob begin turning as the door slowly opened. The first face I saw was that of my mother who stood tensely in front of the other two as if guarding them from me. Behind her and a head taller was my father who held the same blank expression as me. The third person, my younger brother William, stood behind the two of them so that only his head was visible as he poked it to the side to see me. If I hadn't already felt like a zoo animal, I can say with certainty that I do now. The scene seemed like parents guarding their child while letting him see a wild animal up close for the first time to satisfy his curiosity. The only care they could muster seemed to be reserved for him.
'Hello Max, how have you been? Have you been having a good time at the academy?' my mother spoke first, fumbling over her words while she played with her hands and refused to meet my eyes.
One would think her eyes were forced to stare at the ground with the unwavering determination she had to refuse to look up. Her neck was like that of a broken toy, forced into one position and unable to revert back to it's original form. Not even when I responded to her to let her know how I was did she look at me. I was a fool for responding despite knowing she wouldn't care either way.
Despite their unwillingness to communicate with me like this, it was very clear why they were here against their will. William continued to stare at me with eyes sparkling with intrigue. I wondered briefly if his neck hurt having to bend over in this way to look at me but then I remembered that there was no use in a lesser human like myself worrying for him. At least he had the luxury of parental love that was now beyond my reach.
Something must have changed because they had never been quite so hostile to me. Previously we got along amicably as if I was their real son, but right now I was nothing but a stranger occupying their space. What could have changed in such a short period of time for them to go from loving parents who would regularly write to me without fail, regardless of whether I replied, to ones that could hardly stand being in my presence. It is a mystery to me but at least, thanks to William's brotherly love, I was able to see that they were doing well. If anything they were doing better than I.
The conversation was brief and awkward as they attempted to check up on me but could not use the same energy to feign actual interest. In a similar vein my responses lacked any semblance of life. We were forced into this uncomfortable conversation simply to please a child I could not care less about.
When the conversation would not go further however, they quickly muttered their goodbyes and quietly rushed away from my room. Once their steps were far away enough, I slumped down into bed and let out a sigh of exhaustion. The more the days passed, the less I knew those around me and it made little to no sense.