My father restrained his wrists behind his back to stop him, but Auden thrashed around like a wild animal caught in a net, a trickle of blood rolling down his arms.
“What's going on?” I asked in alarm.
“Go back to bed,” my mother said, fingers raking through the knots in her hair as tears nestled on the dark patches under her eyes.
“But what’s wrong?” I demanded. The idea that I would simply return to my bedroom while Auden screamed in distress was ludicrous. That was just not going to happen. It was my job to protect him when my parents couldn’t. And clearly…they couldn’t.
“We don’t know,” my father said, voice dripping with exhaustion. With each blink, it seemed harder and harder for his eyes to reopen. “He came into our room and when we sent him back to bed–”
“He became a nightmare,” my mother finished, shaking her head.
“Nothing will calm him down,” my father sighed.
“I think I can help,” I offered, taking a tentative step toward the couch.
“And what couldyoupossibly do?” my mother scoffed, her tone as cold as the breeze that entangled itself around my bare arms and legs.
“He wants his chocolate drink,” I answered.
Chocolate drink, or hot chocolate, as we all call it. Not only was it Auden’s favourite drink, but it was a critical part of his morning routine.
Adults had their coffee, Auden and I had our chocolate drink. We could not start our day without it. But for Auden, this break in routine was a broken limb that would not heal.
“It’s not even four am,” my mother said. “He’s not having his chocolate drink.”
“Yes, but–”
“Chocolate drink is for morning. To have with breakfast. Not at three am after waking up in the middle of the night,” my mother cut me off.
“I don’t think he understands that it’s too early,” I argued. “He’s so used to waking up and getting his drink that he’s probably just confused as to why he isn’t getting it now. Maybe he can just have a little bit?”
My mother looked as though I had just asked her to shave off all her hair. “No, Augustus. No. He cannot just have a little bit. If we give in to his demands, he’ll expect chocolate drink every time he wakes up in the middle of the night and throw a tantrum when he doesn’t get his way!”
“You’re not listening. He’s just confused and–”
“YOU ARE A CHILD!” my mother snapped. “You do NOT get to tell me what to do! You do not get to tell me how I should parent!”
“I know,” I whispered, fighting off the instinct to lower my gaze in submission. My eyes drifted toward Auden. He was rocking back and forth, head shaking from side to side as tearsstreamed down his face. He couldn’t defend himself, it was my job to do it for him. And I was failing.
I looked to my father, but he averted his gaze, leaving me alone and unarmed on a battlefield where my opponent had the upper ground. But even facing an army of soldiers, I would stand by Auden.
“Please,” I said, “he’s upset. He doesn’t understand. If we could just give him a little bit to calm down and then we can explain–”
“I SAID NO!” my mother shouted. She struck my face, head whipping to the side so fast that my neck cracked, pain shooting down my spine. “I am so SICK of you always talking back!”
My father stood. “Mary–”
Tears rolled freely down my cheeks as I clutched my neck, legs trembling to the point I had to crouch down so as not to fall.
“I can’t do this anymore, Marcus!” my mother said. “I can’t do this! I can’t do it! I can’t–”
My father pulled her into his arms, comforting her the way I wanted him to comfort me, to comfort Auden. But he barely spared us a glance as my mother sobbed into his chest.
Punish them, the Devil’s voice whispered,strikethem back.
I reached for Auden, securing him in my arms without sparing my parents a second glance. They might have had each other, but I had Auden. And that was all that mattered.
I carried him upstairs, away from the chaos, and carefully settled him into bed.
