Changing the endings

Changing the endings

Esmee

My husband through the TV down the stairs, he just stood there like it would bear no consequence on our life’s he was to get caught and hammer throw the TV down the stairs after giving some Award  acceptance speech. Not only had my husband done this he had stood at work and talked in flaunt sign language to someone when I didn’t even have a clue he knew the first thing about the language. He accused me of hiding secrets yet I didn’t know the first thing about his past really. I knew Emmet was a child of the system. He was a success story of the system. His mother adored him but she had died from cancer that was only caught at stage four. She thought for her life and for her boy but her chance of survival was just 10%. In fairy tales adoring mothers like this would get better but Emmets didn’t and from the age of eight he was bounced around the fostering system. He like Booby our foster son was left with nothing and he said he didn’t care but there was something bigger there somewhere hidden. In a Ten year relationship we still had secrets.

“So… you go a reason why you went all crazy man on me and through the TV down the stairs Emmet!” I shouted after our shift was over that night and we were both in the car staring into the night while I slammed the heating on full in my car.

“Esmee don’t.” Emmet said in a deathly tone his face set to tired and drawn as he looked out of  the window trying to look past the opaque hedge that was in front of the car and then into his hands. His face made my anger fade away; he was hurting more than I had thought.

“You can talk to me, you know that. I didn’t meant to shout but it was a shook you throwing the TV down that stairs and all, your normally a little bit more level headed then that.” I smiled, leaning over and placing a hand on his shoulder which made hi crumple and shake quiet tears taking him. “Emmet talk to me, Please talk to me. Why are you so upset? You have gone through so much in work before and it has never affected you like this.”

“I had a brother. I know I should have told you and I didn’t but please don’t shout at me Esmee please don’t, I know I have done wrong and I just can’t deal with it.” I couldn’t have been angry even if I tried when he looked like that. He could have told me he had slept with another woman and all I could fell would be my hollow aching for him and his turmoil. I hated Emmet sad. He was not naturally a sad person whit his cup always completely full to the top even If a situation was hopeless. I loved his smile and hated his tears.

“I’m not angry Emmet.” I whispered, trying to scoot closer to him. “Just tell me what’s making you so sad. What is wrong with your brother?” I encouraged him on.

“He died. Suicide, he was just a teenage; a deaf teenager who felt stuck in a silent world that he didn’t belong in. They kept us together in foster care and I told my mother I would look after him. I didn’t even know that he was unhappy and then one day I find him just hanging there in our bedroom. Chair kicked casually away from his legs. Purple face, broken neck and a note on the floor addressed to me.” Emmet’s voice cracked into sobbing as he uttered the details of his brother’s death. “He left me alone!” Emmet cried openly his voice muffled behind his hands. “My mother died then he died and I had to grow up in those places all alone. I told her I would look after him because he was two years younger them me.    

“Emmet I’m so sorry.” I tried to sooth wrapping arms around him as best as I could in the car.

“It’s his story Esmee,” Emmet sniffed. “Hev has his story. I can’t change his ending. I lost him but I can and I will change hers even if I have to toss a hundred telly’s down that stairs.”