Will's POV
THE NIGHT BEFORE

I return home after spending the afternoon with River at the quarry. We were supposed to be quizzing each other for maths, but we spent most of our time listening to music and creating a Spotify playlist for us to share.

River has this magical way of making me feel like it's only us in the world. I know she dislikes herself, she critiques everything she does, she never gives herself a break, but I can see all the beauty in her that she refuses to see for herself. It's so clear to me, so much that I can see it simply by a single glance. I'm not just talking about her physical features, I'm talking about the type of beauty that runs right to the core, the type that is stored in the heart and soul.

She's perfect, but she can't even see it. I would love for her to see herself the way I see her.

Since the very moment she came up to me at my locker with my book in her hand, I could sense something about her. I could see so much anguish in her eyes that tore at my heart. It was a feeling I knew all too well. Her smile was sad and kind at the same time, her eyes genuine, her feelings understandable. I knew River beforehand, obviously, but I never even gave her a second thought, mostly because I thought she was a stuck up girl who kept to herself because she felt she was better than everyone else.

If only I knew.

As soon as I open my front door, shouting booms through my ears and immediately ruins my good mood. I should have been expecting this.

"So it's my fault! Can you not do anything yourself?" my mum yells.

"You wanted the thing in the first place! Don't you fucking dare twist this on me!" Dad bellows back.

"William wanted it. Not me. You always do this, you always lie to make me look like the bad guy."

My younger brother is sat on the stairs, listening to the entire conversation with his eyes glued on his phone.

I completely ignore his existence. I don't want to deal with his shit right now.

"This is your fault," he says.

"What?"

"Mum and dad arguing again. It's always because of you."

"Shut your mouth. They argue over everything. They argued over toothpaste this morning."

"Yeah — toothpaste that you used all of."

My hands ball into fists behind my back. "Everyone uses the toothpaste. I can't help it if it runs out when I use it."

"Still your fault."

I give him a fake smile and hold up my middle finger before I head into the kitchen where my parents are screaming at one another.

I try my hardest to ignore them when I head to the cupboards to fill my feelings with food, but they include me in their argument as soon as they get the chance.

"Have you seen what your dog's done?" my mum yells in my direction.

"What?"

"He's chewed up the sofa! I came home today and found him! When did you last walk him?"

"Last night. I walk him twice a day."

She scoffs and lifts an annoyed smile.

"You need to train him, or he's going," my dad warns.

"Yeah, whatever."

"I'm serious. I'll put him in my truck and I'll sell him right now."

I wish I stayed at the quarry with River for a little while longer.

"I said, yeah. I'll train him, alright? Leave him alone, he's your dog as well."

Dad smirks and shakes his head. "Not mine."

Trying to ignore his cruel words towards one of the things I love the most in this life, I look at my dog and pat my thighs twice. "Come here, Ginger."

His tail springs back to life as he runs over and jumps onto my legs to finally greet me.

He doesn't deserve us.

My parents both glare at him with disgust coating their expression. He's the family dog — yes, it was my idea to get him, but that doesn't make him mine. We all agreed he would become part of the family, but they always look past him and treat him like a problem...just like they've always done with me.

Don't worry, boy. I understand you.

"You're paying for the sofa," dad adds.

"I figured," I mutter as I pet Ginger and get his toy to play tug of war with him.

"You just don't care, do you? Nothing is important unless it's about yourself."

I try my hardest to ignore him, but his words keep nibbling at my brain, causing anger to rise in the pit of my stomach.

"I said I'll pay-"

"It's not good enough, William! Look at you! You're sitting there and rewarding that dog with no care about the state of our living room."

"What do you want me to do? You probably already yelled and scared the shit out of him. There's no point in me giving him a lecture."

Just when I think I can control my emotions and keep my voice at a stable volume, my brother walks in. Just the sight of his smug face makes my lip snarl.

"Why does he even live here? He's eighteen now, he can get his own place. He's messy, he's loud, he's annoying, he doesn't care for either of you. Why don't you kick him out?" Klaus asks them both, forced innocence in his voice.

Little brat.

"We will if he doesn't train that dog up," dad scoffs. Him and Klaus smirk together and shake their heads in my direction.

I stare down at Ginger and press a kiss on the top of his head, trying to communicate with him through our minds. I imagine he's talking back to me, telling me not to listen and that I deserve better. I'm not even sure if I believe that. They don't care, they never will.

"You ruin everything," Klaus says to me.

I turn to my mum. "You gonna just stand there and let him talk to me like that?"

"Will, you're eighteen. You can't keep expecting me to fight all your battles for you. You need to grow up."

"Every time I do stand up for myself, you and dad go in on me. As soon as someone says one thing to your perfect, little son, you act as if it's the end of the world. Can't you see how unfair that is? Playing favourites right in front of me? You don't even try to hide it."

Mum lets out a sigh, almost to say that she wants me to go away because I'm annoying her by my presence. "Can you stop going on for five minutes? Klaus is sixteen, he doesn't act like this."

"That's because you never pick on him. You don't treat us the same."

"Well look at you. Look at how you're going on at me right now. For what? Because you want more attention from me and your dad? You're eighteen, Will, just grow up."

"Yeah, Will, grow up," Klaus taunts.

"You better shut the fuck-"

"Oi!" my dad bellows. "That's enough."

"He fucking started it!"

"And now I'm finishing it." He rests his head in his hand and shakes it. "Do you have to cause arguments as soon as you come home?"

"You and mum do that yourself. Don't blame me."

Everything is always my fault.

"Just get upstairs, Will. I can't deal with you tonight," he tells me.

"Gladly," I sneer, storming up the stairs with Ginger following behind me.

As soon as I'm in my room, I slam the door and press my head against it, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to breathe and calm down. They always know how to push my buttons, so much to the point where rage stores up inside me and comes out all at once in a single moment. I try to refrain myself from shouting or breaking something.

I'm turning into my parents.

My phone is in my pocket, calling to me. Telling me to call River.

I pull it out and slide down my door until I'm sitting on the carpet. I stare at her contact along with the picture I added of her. She has no idea I took it. It was at the quarry today when she was staring out at the town and gazing at the view. I thought she looked beautiful, and I wanted to capture all of the beauty I saw in that moment.

I want to call her. Hearing her voice always manages to calm me down and make me feel normal again. When I'm with her, I can't breathe, I can finally be myself. I don't have to worry about how I'm acting or what I'm saying or what I'm doing. I'm just there, with her.

In those moments we spend together, it feels like everything is going to be okay.

Ten minutes pass, and eventually I turn off my phone and forget about the entire idea. River has her own life and her own problems. I don't want to bombard her with my own.

I can't always rely on her for my happiness.

* * *

The next morning, I get up early for sixth form, just wanting to escape this house that makes me feel trapped and uncomfortable. Sixth form is my favourite place to be, because it's where I get to see all my friends and all the people who make me feel like me. The teachers are a bit shitty, but that's to be expected. Especially Mr Peters. He reminds me so much of my dad, I can barely stand to look at him.

I grab an orange from the fruit bowl and begin to peel the skin as I walk into the living room to inspect the sofa that my parents were so mad about.

Maybe I should have been more emotional about the matter, but I have trouble caring for things...some things. I think I have an empathy problem. When it comes to my friends or River, it's a different story.

My dad is already in the living room, dressed in a suit for work, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand to wake him in the early morning, the usual scowl plastered on his face.

I lean against the doorframe and stare at the sofa which isn't even half as bad as what I thought it would be.

"I'll pay for it," I promise him.

He turns to look at me, no emotion on his face as he says, "I'm really disappointed in you." And then walks off in the opposite direction to head to his office.

I stand there for ten minutes, his words running around in my head continuously, reminding me of what a disappointment I am to the people who should be the proudest of me. I always knew that they thought that, but I had never once heard them say it out loud.

Now it's finally sinking in fully, informing me that I'm a terrible person, one who doesn't deserve nice things and will never be enough for anyone.

I sit down on the ripped sofa and try my hardest not to cry. Dad never cries, he says it's a man thing, but I think that's bullshit. Everyone has to cry. It's unhealthy to keep it all stored away.

One tear spills and then another, dropping on my lap which stains my trackie bottoms. I wipe my cheek and stare ahead out of the living room window, glancing into the back garden that holds dead trees and dark, wet grass. My fingertips are feeling the tattoo between my two fingers on my other hand, trying to remind myself that I can do it. I can survive this, even on the darkest days, just like I've done so many times before.

This is one setback. I can't let it ruin me.