By 6 a.m., Dave woke groggily. The faint sounds of clinking dishes and muffled movement signaled that Lila was already awake. She moved about the small house like a ghost, her steps listless and unhurried, preparing to open the shop again.
"Dave, wake your brother. Get ready for school," Lila said, her voice tired yet steady.
"Okay, Mom," Dave replied softly. He wanted to say more, to comfort her or ask about last night, but he didn't. He wasn't sure what to say or how to make things better.
Roger was fast asleep, the entire room smelled of alcohol. Dave did as he promised and didn't try to wake Roger up, thinking that he could control his father like this.
Dave and Daniel had their breakfast and went to school.
The day passed uneventfully. That night, Roger came home early, sober, and quiet. He didn't speak to anyone, instead sitting in front of the TV and staring blankly at an old movie.
Dave waited, hoping for an apology. He wanted Roger to acknowledge what he had done, to say something to him and Lila. But no apology came, only silence.
This pattern repeated for days. Roger went to work, came home, ate dinner, and went to bed without a word. The tension in the house was like ice, cold and unyielding.
Lila tried to melt it. She began making small efforts to engage Roger, asking questions like, "What do you want for lunch tomorrow?" or "Will you be home early?" Her tone was neutral, but the effort was clear.
Dave's conviction was still strong, he didn't have to think too complicated. He knew he was angry and his father should apologize.
A month later, something unexpected happened. Roger came home one evening carrying a brand-new tablet.
"This is for you, Dave," he said, holding it out. His voice was calm, and though he didn't look directly at Dave, there was an air of sincerity in the gesture.
Dave's eyes lit up as he took the tablet, his earlier resolve forgotten in an instant. "Wow, Dad! This is awesome!" he exclaimed, his joy bubbling over as he began dancing around the room.
Even Daniel was excited. "Can I play with it too?" he asked, grinning widely.
Lila stood in the corner, watching silently. A small smile crept across her face as she took in the scene. For the first time in weeks, the house felt warm again.
"Maybe things will get better," she thought, deciding to cook chicken the next day to celebrate. These fleeting moments of happiness were what she lived for, what gave her hope that the family might one day heal.
But it was wishful thinking the very next day Roger came drunk again. He opened the gate and parked his bike and banged the gate when closing it. This time it really did crash, falling on the ground with a loud bang….
Everyone was startled. They lived in a two story house, ground floor for Ronald family and upper floor for Roger Family.
The sound of the gate slamming shut reverberated through the quiet night, followed by a deafening crash.
Startled, Lila and the boys ran outside. Ronald's family, who lived on the ground floor, rushed out as well.
The metal gate lay in a twisted heap on the ground. Roger was sprawled beside it, his clothes torn, small cuts on his arms and face. Blood stained his shirt in places, and his unfocused eyes stared blankly at the starry sky.
"Ahhh!" Amelia, Ronald's wife, screamed in fright.
Ronald knelt beside his brother, shaking his head in frustration. "Roger, what the hell happened?" he demanded, the strong smell of alcohol making his anger flare.
Lila stood frozen, her expression unreadable. She wanted to scream, to cry, but instead, she turned to her sons. "Dave, Daniel, help your father inside," she said firmly,