Iris quickly went back to her room, her sanctuary. She picked out a long, black skirt and a tight, black top from her wardrobe and, got changed and tied her long brown hair into a bun. Black: the colour that showed the significance of the day. She padded down the creaky stairs, trying to ignore the empty room that was once Derek’s. She paused at the livingroom doorway, taking in the sight before her tired, tearful eyes. Her father was walking up and down the room, his hands held firmly behind his back. Iris eyed the watch he was wearing. Dennis was curled in a ball on the couch, rocking to and fro, to and fro. Even the roaring fire in the fireplace couldn’t break the icey silence that hung in the air. The sorrow was pushing down on them, threatening to crush them. Iris forced herself to enter the room, trying to fight back the silence that was slowly engulfing them. Dennis glanced at his sister and ducked back into the ball he was determined to become. Her father stopped in the middle of the room, a baffled expression on his face that made it clear that he’d forgotten about her existence. Iris edged towards the empty armchair in front of the fire and perched on the end. Silence ruled the room for about a minute or so.
“Where’s Mum?” She finally asked, making everyone jump a foot. No-one had spoken for so long that it felt weird to hear words spinning out of her mouth. Her father swallowed hard.
“Your mother is…unwell. She is resting,” He repiled, his voice like sandpaper. Iris stared at her father, unsure of what to say.
“Shall I go and see if she is - ”
“NO!” He cut her off. Iris and Dennis exchanged worried glances. “No,” He said, more clamly this time. “Let her rest.”
Iris got up from her perch and went into the kitchen, leaving the warmth behind her. It was exactly as she’d seen it the previous night, so they hadn’t had breakfast yet. She put the kettle on to boil and popped some sliced bread into the toaster. Leaning against the cold worktop, she waited for the kettle, staring out of the window that lead to freedom. Each breath made it harder for Iris to come to terms with what was going to happen. She waited and waited. She imagined Derek, sitting in the cold, dark and dirty cell. A lonely soul. Waiting. Waiting for Death, but at the same time, dreading his arrival. Iris felt the same. She wished that the dreaded hour would come and go as quick as a wink, but at the same time, she wished it would never come.
The smell of burnt toast brought Iris back to earth. She applied Derek’s favourite strawberry jam on the toasted bread and stirred the tea slowly, watching as it whirled around in the mug. One minute it was a liquid tornado spinning around in the mug and the next minute, it was a dull, steamy cup of tea. Just like her life. One minute they were a happy family of five, next minute they were the same family, dreading the hour that they would become a sorrowful family of four. Just like that. No warning. No explanation. Nothing. Iris placed the breakfast on a tray and took it over to the livingroom, where Dennis was staring at a plastic dinosaur he held in his hand as though it were a treasure. The one Derek had got him last Christmas. Iris’ stomach tied into a knot. Her father was standing in front of the fire, hands still behind his back, his eyes reflecting the snakey flames of fire. She placed the tray on the table.
“Breakfast’s ready,” She said, sounding like she repelled the idea of eating on such a horrible day. her father turned away from the fire. He took one plate and walked over to Dennis, the hand with the horrible, hurtful watch hidden behind him. Dennis tore his eyes away from his dinosaur and stared up at his father in surprise. He hesitated before taking the plate and biting into the toast with obvious hunger. Iris’s heart sank as she remembered that Dennis hadn’t eaten anything the previous night.
After they ate half-heartedly in silence, Dennis went upstairs. Iris glanced at her father, who was staring at his half-eaten toast as if it were a piece of filth. She sighed and followed her younger brother up the stairs, dreading the day that he would find out truth that would scar him for life. Dennis was opening their parents’ room and before she could stop him, he entered. Iris glanced down the stairs, hoping that her father wouldn’t notice them, hoping that her mother, the pearl of her life, was alright. She followed Dennis into the room, where her mother lay on the bed, as still as a statue. Dennis stood in the middle of the room, frozen. She could almost hear his brain yell out as they both spotted the plastered arm where their mother had been sedated. Iris walked towards Dennis and stood beside him, the responsibility of looking after him for the dreadful day weighing upon her like an anchor. Before she knew what was happening, Dennis was hugging her so tight, the breath was knocked out of her. Iris gasped. Dennis shuddered as the tears he’d been holding back came rushing down like a waterfall. Iris hugged him back, stroking his hair, hating the world for doing this to him.
“What are they doing to us, Iris?” Dennis said, his head burried in her arm. “Why did they take Derek away? What have they done to Mum?”
Iris couldn’t answer those questions that tasted bitter in the air.
“I don’t know, Dennis,” She finally managed to say between sobs. Dennis walked over to their mother, tears streaming down his angelic face. Iris couldn’t bear to watch the truth trample her family, but she had no choice. She walked over to her mother and sat at the edge of her bed, pulling Dennis onto her lap like he was a two-year-old. Usually, Dennis would shrug her off and tell her to stop acting like his mother. Instead, he sat there, leaving Iris to guess what was going on in his innocent little head which all these evil, ugly truths were going to get crammed into.
Iris and Dennis sat there for a long time in silence, eyeing their mother who was not conscious of what was going on around her, like a newborn baby. Iris wished she could be like her, laying there without feeling the pain that was seeping into her heart inch by inch. At the same time, she was glad that she was able to share the heavy, horrible grief with her family. She was about to drift off into another analysis of the situation when suddenly, she spotted a familiar expression shoot throguh her mother’s face. It seemed that Dennis had noticed, too, because he was rigid like ice. Iris recognised that expression. Her mother wore the same expression years ago when Derek had got into a fight and had turned up with a broken arm. The same expression when Iris had managed to hold a sizzling hot baking tray and badly burn her hands. The same expression when Dennis had stuck his feet into a tub of plaster of Paris. Iris knew that expression, alright! She knew what it was. Pain. The pain of a mother when her child gets hurt. Intense, merciless pain. They sat there for a long time, staring into their mother’s face, waiting for her to wake up from her dark, dreadful nightmare.
Iris finally got up and tilted up Dennis’ baby face to her level.
“Let’s go downstairs,” She said.
“No,” Dennis replied, pulling himself away from her. Iris sighed.
“Dennis,” She said calmly. “Dad’s downstairs by himself. We need to go down and support him. We need to be there for him.” Dennis was silent.
“Iris?” he finally asked, his childish voice wobbling like jelly, as though he knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. “When’s Derek coiming back?” Iris knew this was coming. She’d spent the whole night rehersing what she was going to say to him, but none of it sounded right for that gloomy, grief-filled moment.
“Dennis… it doesn’t work like that. Derek’s never going to come back,” She said those dreadful words that tasted sour in her mouth. “They are punishing Derek for… something he hasn’t done. In this world, we call it injustice.” Dennis didn’t say anything for a long, painful minute.
“Is this his last day?” He asked in the same wobbly voice. Without saying anything, Iris took her brother’s hand and padded towards the landing, the torn parts of her heart stinging as though there was a fresh wound.
