Chapter 14- Hope for a better tomorrow

The restless feelings I had within me had finally settled down as I found solace in Adelphos' words. With the faith I had put in his words alone, I found the will to go on with the day. Maybe all I needed was that little bit of reassurance to help keep me afloat, small affirmations that all would be well. In a world full of uncertainty he offered me the certainty that his support would remain, unchanged by time. 

After having breakfast in the comfort in my room, I made my way downstairs. Once I had reached the living room my parents turned their heads towards me and welcomed me, looking somewhat concerned. However, I failed to see Adelphos anywhere. 

"Where is Adelphos?" I ask, directing the question towards them. 

"He's gone to meet up with his friends today, he should be back before dinner", my stepmother responds. 

"Okay." Figuring the conversation was over I turned my back towards them, getting ready to go back upstairs before I heard my father calling out for me. 

"Persephone..." I turn to face him "no- it's nothing" he smiles with strained muscles. I briefly thought of walking away but I decided that since I had nothing better to do, I could spend some time with them at the very least. I walk back towards them and sit down in the seat opposite the two of them. They seemed to be going through photo albums and reminiscing. After scanning through the different albums laying on the table between us, my eyes landed at the one in my father's hands- it was one filled with memories of my childhood. I stand up again, despite having been sat down for only a few seconds and walk behind them, standing between the two and looking down at my pictures. His hand was on a picture of when I was 5 years old, having a picnic with my mother who took the picture. My smile wide, happiness seeping through the photograph. 

"Would you like to look through pictures with us?" my step mother asked carefully, walking on eggshells. 

"Sure." I sit on the arm rest of my father's seat and get comfortable so that we can all see the photo album. Since they seem to be interested in knowing about my childhood I decide to explain the images and what I can remember of each memory. "This was a picnic with my mother when I was 5." I point to the image under his hand. "I badgered my mum about having a picnic but it was really just so that I could have lots of cupcakes" I laugh, thinking about how I thought I was sly, but really my mother knew everything but gave in to make me happy. 

"What about this one?" My stepmother points to another picture. 

"This was when I was 7 and tried to make a snowman for the first time. My hands were so cold by the end that just after the picture was taken, I started crying." 

"And this one?" my father asks, flicking through pages. 

"That picture is Anna teaching me to make flower crowns. I wanted to make one in secret for my mother but she found me and sneakily took a picture of me doing my best to make it. It was very scruffy and falling apart since I wasn't very gentle with the flowers, but she still wore it for the whole day." 

"And this one, what about this, and this, and this?"

Before I knew it, hours had passed and we had gone through my photo albums with me retelling the story of my most memorable moments. The room was filled with laughter at my childish pranks that neither of them were present to witness. Seeing these pictures I realised that not every moment in my childhood was tragic. I was full of happiness and surrounded by love. I wanted to hold onto these feelings for a while longer, reluctant to let bad memories taint happy ones. 

"You looked really happy in the pictures" my stepmother comments. 

"I had people to look after me, it's no wonder I was surrounded by happiness. I was raised with all the love I could have hoped for."

"Your mother raised you well", she said quietly.

I turn to her and smile, teeth out for display. "I had her by my side and that was all I needed. In all my pictures, she's present in some way, shape or form. She never let me feel alone and I'm thankful for that. She taught me love, although, she also taught me loss." Unwilling to allow the mood to drop I was quick to catch myself and keep a positive attitude. "Adelphos was also raised extremely well, you must be proud to have such a wonderful son." The words leaving my mouth were awkward, though genuine. Somehow it seemed to form a barrier between the two of us unintentionally, but there was no other way to put it as we did not grow up together under the same mother or care. "I'm glad I have a brother like him to turn to in times of difficulties."

Without my knowledge, I had instinctively called him brother as though I had let him in, just that little bit closer to my heart. I suppose what they say is true, you cannot force yourself to foster a genuine relationship. It will grow on its own and before you know it, it feels as natural as breathing. The change didn't go unnoticed by my parents who at first were shocked before delight painted their faces. I, who was closed off, was now accepting this family and they appeared thrilled by that revelation. 

"I'm happy to see the two of you getting along, did he do something to make you think that?" my father asks, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Hmm... not really? He just comforted me yesterday. I think more than what he said or did, his efforts were evident. His heart is in the right place and it's something that's impossible to miss. How should I say this?" I search for the correct words for a few seconds. "He's someone very easy to believe in." 

"About that..." My father starts, taking his time to choose his words carefully. "I'm sorry we didn't come to check up on you. We wanted to make sure you're okay but... we didn't want to invade in your personal space. We - we worried we would only make you feel worse by trying to talk to you when you want to be alone."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. In a sense he was right. I was, in all ways, bound by contradictions, I would have gotten angry had they spoken to me and I would be angry had they not. I wanted the attention and yet despised feeling like I only earned it through pity. I wanted unconditional love but refused to believe in it until I saw myself worthy of something so precious. I wanted everything and, at the same time, I was afraid of wanting anything. 

"It's okay. Thank you for thinking of me. I know I have been very ... standoffish... but I will try to be more open. If you want to speak to me, whether it is to check up on me or not, you're allowed to do that. I can't promise anything other than the fact that I will try my best to have faith in the two of you. I know it isn't much but I hope it's enough, as it is all that I am capable of at the moment". 

Although I was aware that my guard was still up and there were things I would hold against them, perhaps to my grave, I was tired of boundless hatred taking over my life. Hating them, who I had to see every day, was draining my energy and only fueling my self hatred. Maybe I could give them a chance to prove themselves, to make things up to me. Maybe I could allow myself to be happy without being trapped in the past. At that thought I saw my parents crying beside me. Unaware of how to comfort the two of them, I stretched out my arms to bring them both into an awkward hug. We could all feel the awkwardness of the hug with the uncomfortable positioning, but the genuineness of one another's feelings was still obvious. My step mother started laughing at how strange we must look and that caused us all to laugh until we were clenching our stomachs in pain. My world of black and white was slowly, but surely, being painted in colour. I realised once again that there was still hope for a better tomorrow. I only hoped that this realisation wouldn't run away from me in times of desperation, as it had many times in the past.