"Sirius, are you happy with your life?"
His grandfather's frail fingers crawl their way onto his own. The question stuns him a moment, this old man has never once said anything of the sort. His grandfather is an odd individual. He's traveled the world in search of adventure since he was around Sirius's age, only popping in to visit family every couple of months.
Sirius has nothing against the man, in fact, he couldn't care less about him. Being only sprinkled throughout his childhood and recent years, the boy has grown no attachment to his grandfather, much like everything else.
Previously dead-eyed, Sirius masks his disengagement with a shallow smile.
"Of course, my life is great."
A lie so obvious, Sirius almost feels bad for saying it aloud. Of course, neither his grandfather or his mother and brother in the room know this. And he has no intention of telling any of them this fact.
The dying man exhales a ragged but relieved breath.
"I'm glad," a fulfilled grin makes its way onto his wrinkled face. "Make sure it stays that way. You know, my life was pretty great too. I saw so many sights, met so many amazing people, went to so many places... it was beautiful."
Sirius can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. All he can think is the sarcastic words...
-Good for you.
Why are you thinking this way? Stop it. Stop being selfish. This isn't about you.
Amidst his grandfather's final moments, Sirius can't bring himself to care. And he degrades himself for it. Hearing about the grand life of another only reminds him of how much he hates his own. They are thoughts he wishes he wouldn't have.
His mother's tearful cries echo in the bleak hospital room, along with his brother's. Sirius's brother, Canopus, loves their grandfather more than anyone. Everytime the man would come to visit, Canopus would be the first to greet him. They would chat for hours, never once letting boredom seep in. Their bond was truly something to behold. And now... it's being ripped away from him. It only makes sense to cry.
Even his grandfather builds tears in his eyes, a sight he has never seen before.
All of these tears, all of these weeps and sniffles... and all Sirius can think of is how he's the only one who won't. The only one who can't. His tears don't even think to fall.
The heartbeat on the monitor flatlines, and the aged eyes of his grandfather close for the final time. A warm smile rests upon his lips, as his hands grow ever colder.
Devastation fills the room and drains the tear ducts of his family members dry. The car ride home and the rest of the night bleed together until Sirius is left in his room, watching the ceiling fan spin.
*****
Sirius's eyes greet his dimly lit bedroom.
Morning light peers through the curtains, blanketing the barren walls with its warmth. His alarm ripping him from his false slumber, he reaches over and slaps it off. He rolls onto his back, mindlessly watching the ceiling fan spin around and around.
He spent all night trying to feel any morsel of grief, but to no avail. Even after the death of a family member... nothing changes. Just another sleepless night. And now...
-It's just another day.
The rough texture of a tongue slimes his cheek, and the hot breath of a dog engulfs the boy's nostrils. Gently patting the tiny head, with a deep breath and a sigh, he stumbles out of bed. Shuffling his feet across the soft carpet, he lifts up a slate t-shirt and slips it on. The stubby legs of the old hound follow suit.
Flicking on the light switch to the bathroom, the change in brightness blinds him a moment. While his bloodshot eyes adjust, he places fingers underneath them. They feel heavy. He's been falling asleep later and later, and last night certainly didn't help change that. Despite the never-ending wave of tiredness he feels throughout the day, he just can't seem to sleep. He suspects it to be insomnia, though he can never ask anyone to get him checked.
He tries to avoid himself in the mirror, directing his view to a smiley face he carved in the mirror years ago. He catches a glimpse of his dark, bed-headed hair.
-Your hair is getting long.
The thought almost makes him smile. For his whole life the hair on his head had been cut short, only recently has he begun growing it out. He has never been one to care about his appearance, but... it is something new. Which was the point... yet, he still feels there is no significant change. He looks the same... maybe a little gloomier. The almost-smile retreats into a shallow frown.
Drops of water splash on his shirt. The bristles on his toothbrush are few and tattered, causing the water to glide right through. I need a new toothbrush. He has for a month, but neglects to inform his mother. He finishes brushing his teeth and glances once more into the mirror. Everyone has always told him how "handsome" he is, but to him... he looks far below average. Uninteresting, unappealing, unalive... He heads back into his room and slides on one of his couple dull hoodies.
-I think I wore this already this week. Oh well...
Now fixed in the kitchen, a piece of toast pops out of the toaster. How many times have I made this same breakfast? While he attempts to switch up his morning meal, if you can even call it a meal, it always leads back to toast. Darn old toast.
Grabbing his bag and keys, he slips on his worn-down shoes. It's been about two years since he's gotten new ones. Clothes too for that matter. As he pushes the door open, his mother's voice reaches his ear.
"Ah, you're heading out? Drive safe! I love you, have a good day!"
His mother's words have never rung to him as caring. Rather, she is obligated to say them, since he is her son. And yet, she always smiles as she says them...
Her voice is strained yet soft, if not a bit meek. Still coping with the death of her father the night before, no doubt. She tries her best to sound loving and happy, but she is painfully easy to read.
His mother is middle-aged and dons her son's umber hair, only hers is much longer. She stands about a head shorter than Sirius, in her pajamas. Luckily, her job does not require her to dress-up.
Sirius plasters a shoal smile onto his face. In his weary voice, he responds the only way he knows how.
"Bye, see you later."
He steps out into the morning mist and shuts the door. He hops into his old, low-clearance car he had randomly gotten one day as a surprise from his mother. She has a tendency of coming home with random gifts for him and his brother. But Sirius always feels guilty. She's low on money, it's obvious, so why does she always give them random gifts...? He wishes she'd stop, though her erratic presents always cure his apathy.
Though only for a moment.
A random song on the radio vibrates throughout the car. Sirius stares blankly at the road. He's driven this road so many times... his subconscious autopilot is the only thing keeping his car on the road. If another car were to come barreling towards him, he probably wouldn't notice.
He parks in his usual spot outside of the school. Shutting off his car, he sits for a moment in silence. He rests his eyes briefly but knows it can't last. Looking at the time, he takes a breath.
-Another day.
School. Once the highlight of his younger years, now holds absent meaning for him. Anything he learns is immediately forgotten as he steps outside the classroom. His once astonishing grades keep slipping further and further away, though staying awake is more of a struggle than classwork. His body likes to sleep here more than his own bed.
He has friends, but they are just people he talks to. Strangers. Strangers who talk, but don't listen. People. Just people.
All conversations and classes are drowned out by a numbing static. He doesn't care to hear them, so his body won't let him.
Getting a paper in class, he proceeds to doodle before writing his name and lying his head down on his arms. This is what classes are like. Sleep now, do work later. Though usually, that later is at two in the morning. It doesn't really help his whole not sleeping predicament.
Sitting at lunch with a group of friends, he quietly stares off at nothing in particular. One of them asks what he's staring at, Sirius snaps out if it, giving a brief "I don't even know." They all go back to chatting. Lunches are his least favorite time of the school day. It's simply sitting at a table full of boys who all know each other. Of course, he knows them too, but only surface level. He hasn't been invited to hangout with someone in ages. They all call, meet up, and play games online together. They're friends. Sirius is an outsider. And so he sits with a makeshift smile.
-I need to use the bathroom...
One of his teachers places the test he took yesterday in front of him. [B-]. Not bad taking his other recent scores for comparison, yet it gives him no satisfaction. When he was young, he used to be the smartest in his grade. He even attended special learning classes for the "talented and gifted". All of that shine has grimed away... Looking to the classmate next to him, an A+ insults him. He flips his paper over and places his head back into his folded arms.
-I hate history...
The hands of the clock mock his very existence. Slogging incessantly into the abyss of wasted time. Seconds feel like hours without end...
-Why must time move so slowly?
Walking out of school, he listens to one of his friends ramble. Sirius gets in a couple of sentences, but the guy keeps going on and on. What is he even blabbering about? Sirius eventually walks away towards the soccer fields; the guy doesn't even notice he's left.
Kneeling down, he sets his bag onto the ground. While taking out and tying his cleats, a message appears on his flip phone.
{Mom: Hey honey, remember you go to your Dad's house tonight. Love you!}
His parents. They divorced when he was young, maybe four or five. Ever since, Sirius, along with his brother, exchange between the households periodically. They've done it so many times. Too many times. Due to financial struggles, both his mother and father have been forced to move countless times. He's switched schools repeatedly, leaving behind friends he has never spoken to again.
It all becomes... tiresome... after a while.
With a blank expression, he sets the phone down.
A palm strikes Sirius's behind. "Hey, man."
"Hey," he briefly smiles to reply.
His teammate continues to walk past and goes onto the field. Practice is starting. Sirius stares at his shadow on the floor a moment, before steeling himself for the ensuing hour.
Soccer. Once his favorite activity, now is nothing more than a chore. When he was younger, Sirius was constantly showered with praise due to his talent. Trophies and medals once filled his now arid shelves. Him and his friends would practice together, laughing the entire time... Due to time and moving schools, he's been forced to leave behind his teams. To leave behind the people who made him love the sport. To leave behind his love for the sport. Now, he continues the activity only out of obligation to his father. His enjoyment for the game has dwindled down into obscurity.
While lean and physically in shape, it's evident his body isn't at peak stamina levels. And while his speed has persisted over the years, his skill at the sport has diminished along with his enthusiasm.