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Fair Nights.

Chapter One.

The rain began to pick up as they drove down the highway, the windshield wipers taking a dangerously fast speed. Alex’s forehead leaned against the backseat window, getting more chilled by the second. She watched her father lean on a balled up fist as his other hand carelessly steered over the puddled pavement. She looked at him for the first time since it happened: his eyes, once blue and lively, now hidden by dark bags and his once soft shaken skin, growing a five o’clock shadow.

It was the first day he had willed himself out of bed and Alex was surprised he managed to put on a proper suit. She watched him recklessly take the next exit. He continued to take hastily turns down the twists of a rather tight back road, heading to her mother’s childhood church. They hadn’t been a very religious family. Her mother always thought it was foolish to waste your life trying to please some higher power that had a slim chance of even existing.

They had come to a stop in front of a small white church. It was run down and a large bell began to ring, signaling it was noon. The service would begin in an hour. Her car door opened.

“Thanks Ash,” she muttered to her brother. He had been in the passenger seat. He nodded curtly as he turned to face the church. He buttoned his suit jacket.

“None of these people ever even cared,” Ashton said, thick bitterness soaking his every word. They were in the midst of a sea of black clothes and foreign faces.

“Not now, just… pretend to be okay,” Alex advised, more to herself though than to her older brother.

“But I’m not okay,” Ashton said, with a slight shake in his voice. Alex had no words for comfort because she was in the same boat. She could only take his upper arm and led him up the walkway to the double doors.

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Inside it smelled stale and old. Alex and Ashton had been sitting in the front pew, awaiting everyone to settle down. Voices surrounded them, all hushed and delicate.

“Alex. Ashton,” a soothing voice appeared beside them. They turned to see their mothers’ sister. “How are you holding up?”

“Like hell,” Ashton murmured, only loud enough for Alex to hear though.

“I’m holding up perfectly well,” Alex falsely swooned, shooting her aunt an icy glare. Their Aunt Kerry never once visited her older sister in the hospital. Through all of the surgeries, through all of the attempts of improvement, through the death sentence, through nothing did she sit with her sister, holding her hand promising she’d be alright even though she knew it was a lie. She was family, Alex couldn’t fathom the thought of her just not showing up. Not even sending a card. Their aunt backed away slowly, regretful of even attempting to console her niece and nephew she barely knew.

The pastor then took his stand and here came the tears, blurring Alex’s vision.

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The whole service was hard. Walking out to the site made Alex’s knees shake and her shoulders cave. Her body was shaking from the cold rain soaked her tights as her umbrella was showing weakness in the wind.

Once her mother was officially never to be seen again, everyone made their way back to the church. It was a long walk over a few hills. Many yards away from the church, Alex came to the realization how her mother would soon be forgotten by the world. And Alex too awaited the same fate, and something about that made her breakdown even more.

Ashton approached her, holding his sister as they walked. He had cried all of his tears it seemed at home, for his cheeks were dry.

Refreshments awaited them in the cafeteria and Alex scoffed as she heard someone dare let a laugh escape their lips. She cursed out loud at them, making many heads turn. “Happy occasion, isn’t it?” she said loudly. “I’m so glad there are cookies, oh! And lemonade!” Alex let her voice carry. More curious heads turning.

“Alex, not here…” Ashton pleaded in a whisper.

“Why not? Everyone came for fun, right? None of you ever even cared, so why the hell are any of you here?” Alex was looking at many sympathetic eyes but some annoyed ones as well.

“Alex,” her father had stepped in, his voice firm. “Come with me.” He had grabbed her upper arms rather forcefully and was leading her back to where the service was held. He placed her down and sat next to her.

“Why’d you pull me away? You know everything I said was true. None of those people ever visited her as she rotted away in the goddam hospital. No one, cares.”

“I know. I know,” he repeated. But now he held his head in his hands and was beginning to cry. “People were talking to me all today, some having the balls to say they understand how I feel. Or God has a plan for us? God, and the way these people all said these things! Like I was baby and they had to be careful with every word because every syllable could carry a time bomb.” He stopped to breath, but then jumped back in. “You know how many bullshit sympathetic cards were handed to me today,” he pulled out a wad of mismatched envelopes, all unopened. “They couldn’t even say this processed bullshit to my face! They had to buy a fifty cent card to do it for them!” his voice was shattering and Alex watched her father fall apart at the seems.

He began to tremble with sobs. “Goddam… I loved her… I loved her….” Alex sat motionless, letting her dad go, knowing he hadn’t done this yet and he deserved to. “It should have been me… she was such a better person… she deserved more than she got…”

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Ashton and Alex heard stories growing up. About their fathers’ drinking problem before they were born, but had never seen it first hand. Until now.

A couple weeks had passed from their beloved mother’s death, leaving a hollow feeling inside their chests. The house’s halls seemed to be filled with walking ghosts of the past, leaving them to feel even emptier.

They were eating a frozen pizza when Ashton had had his fill of what their life had become. Which was shambles. Their house was a pigsty and their father was lazily drinking yet another six pack on the couch, staring blankly into the television screen.

“When are you gonna get back to work?” Ashton broke the silence suddenly. The first attempt at conversation since the funeral. Alex’s ears perked for her father’s reaction. He only grunted. She looked at the man who had fathered her and decided that he was long gone. This new man that sat on their couch was a pathetic excuse for a man as he wasted his days with empty bottles. “We haven’t paid this month’s mortgage yet. We need to.”

“Why don’t you do it?” he spat, never peeling his eyes from the screen.

“Cause that isn’t my job. I have my own bills for college I have to deal with.” Ashton sputtered. “This is your job,” he held up unpaid bills that were slowly but surely growing as the days passed. “Now be an adult. Put the beer down and face your wife’s death like a man. Sure, it was a timely death but…”

Their father had stood from the couch now and Alex realized for the first time how large her father really was. He towered the living room and dangerously approached Ashton.

“What did you say to me?” he demanded.

“Put the beer away and be a man,” Ashton said boldly. He was standing his ground but from Alex’s place she could see he had balled up his fists to try his best to steady them.

All in one swift motion their father had swung his fist through, beer bottle in hand. Ashton had fallen to the ground and Alex had shrieked. The back of Ashton’s head was bleeding, but luckily he didn’t get the full blow of the glass. He was still conscious. He felt the back of his head and looked at his hand. His fingertips stained with blood.

“C’mon Alex,” was all Ashton said, lunging over the kitchen table and grabbing his sister’s wrist. She obliged. Before fleeing the house though she took one more glance at the man she thought she once knew. He was standing, staring in shock with glassy distant eyes where his son had just fallen, betrayed by his own father.

“No… please don’t leave me,” he had turned to look at his daughter pleadingly. “I didn’t mean that… I love you kids!” But he fell to his knees and began to sob, apologizing to the sky.

Ashton still clutching onto his sister, jumping into his car, driving away with no destination ahead.