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Chris had always been a happy kid. He grew up in a happy household, meaning that here was always laughter right around the corner and Chris knew that his mom was responsible for that.
His dad always said that he must have gotten his mother’s genes in the personality area and that they were alike in many ways.
As Chris grew older, he noticed that his father always had a shine in his eye whenever he was with his mom. He knew that they loved each other, but he didn’t exactly know what love was at the time.
“Mama?” Chris asked as he watched his mom cook.
“Yes, honey?” she said, turning to smile at him.
“What’s love? I heard some of my classmates talking about it earlier and Jenny was being teased by Brianna who said that she must love Joshua because she lended him her marker. I don’t get it because if lending someone a marker means that you love them, then that would mean that I love a lot of people! Because I lended a lot of markers to my classmates because Ms. Gibson always says that sharing is caring an—” Chris babbled on.
“Whoa there honey,” his mother laughed,
“Hold your horses!”
He frowned, because “I don’t have any horses Mama! So I don’t have any horses to hold! What do I do?” he exclaimed.
“It’s just an expression, honey” His mother said gently, then she looked up at the sound of the door opening, “Hey, look who’s home”
“Hey there buddy, what’cha talking about?” His father grinned when he walked into the kitchen.
Chris brightened up, “Hi daddy! What’s love? Brianna was teasing Jenny about being in love with Joshua because she lended him her markers! That doesn’t make sense to me because that means everybody in the class is in love with each other because we all share things!”
His father laughed, “It’s lent, not lended. And I think that all you need to know right now is that your mom and I love you very much, okay buddy?”
Chris grinned,satisfied with the answer, “Love you, too daddy-o!”
His father laughed at the nickname.
And that was the last he thought about love for a while.
_/ _/ _/ _/ _/
When he started playing hockey, he loved it. He loved the ice, he loved the feeling of skating on it, he loved being able to play as the goalie. He knew it was a very important job, he was, after all, the last barrier between the puck and the net. He and his team won and lost games, but they took it all into stride, trying to better themselves. His parents came to every game they could, and cheered the loudest. He loved hockey with all his being, he had his parents with him, he was happy, and everything was perfect.
Of course, like all good things, they come to an end. His dad got a promotion at work, which was a good thing, but it meant that he and his mom didn’t get to see him as much as they used to. They held through for a while, and Chris was starting to think that everything was going to be okay and that his dad will visit from time to time. He thought that things could only get better from this point on.
Things didn’t get better. In fact, they got worse.
His mom got sick and they thought that it was just the common cold. She got progressively worse and Chris and his dad worried. She just said that these kinds of colds get worse
before they get better. But she didn’t heal, she got worse and they had to take her to the hospital.
They said that she had cancer. Stage 3 cancer.
That was the first time Chris has seen his dad cry. He looked at his mom, trying not to cry himself and his mom smiled at him and opened her arms for a hug from the hospital bed. The doctors recommended that they start treatment immediately, and Chris’ father agreed, no hesitation. They asked Chris to leave the room so they could talk about treatment options.
Things got even worse from there, which he didn't even know was possible. His mom didn’t heal and his father was always in a foul mood, yelling at him when he did something wrong. His parents tried to keep his schedule as normal as they could, sending him to school and hockey practices and making sure he got all his work done.
She stopped smiling so often, too. She told him not to worry too much if she looked tired, she said it meant that the treatment was working. It was a lie, and they both knew it. He said that he would just have to be happy enough for both of them, then. That made her chuckle, and he felt a little better, knowing he made her happy. And it became harder and harder to smile as the cancer progressed in her body. He tried, though, oh how he tried.
One day, she made him promise something. A promise that was so simple, yet complicated and so, so, very important. Soon after that, she died. Chris let himself cry, then, heartbreaking sobs that wracked his whole body, as he held her cooling hand. His father became detached, throwing himself into his work, trying to distract himself from the pain and the grief. And more often than not, Chris came home to an empty house full of pain and sadness. He learned to take care of himself, learned to cook because it was either that or starve. He learned to clean and do his laundry and go to school and hockey practice by himself.
His father was ruthless whenever he came home, always raising his expectations higher and higher and higher. Always yelling, always telling Chris about how he’s not good enough and raising the bar even higher. He ignored the nagging feeling at the back of his mind whispering that he’s not good enough and never will be so he might as well end it all now because after all he was just such a bother. Chris learned to hide the pain behind smiles and cheerfulness, because pain was weakness and weakness was something his father preyed on. He still ignored the tiny voice in his head and nobody noticed how he was so, so close to breaking. Eventually, memories of a loving family became just that,
memories.
_/_/_/_/_/
He had to deal the pitying looks for months. He pretended not to notice the hushed whispers whenever he was around. He discovered that smiling and acting happy kept people off his back, and eventually, they thought that he was fine because look, he’s laughing and he looks happy, so he must be okay now. They didn’t know that under the perfect façade, he was being held by mere safety pins and duct tape. The ‘Fake it ‘till you make it’ motto never applied to him so much until now.
Hockey became his solace. He threw his whole self into it, and it showed. He tried his hardest and practiced his heart out even though there was no one watching him from the stands. No one that mattered, anyways. He played so well that scouts from universities took an interest to him. He showed letters from universities wanting him to play for them to his father, hoping that he would be proud. His father read the letters over, silently, and Chris let his hopes rise, only for them to be crushed when his father told him to do whatever he wanted. He sounded nonchalant, but it was obvious that he was disappointed. He should have known that his father will never be proud of him because he’s not good enough and Chris scolded himself for getting his hopes up so high in the first place. Not good enough a voice at the back of his mind whispered.
He went on tours for the universities, and out of all of them, Samwell was the one that caught his eye. He befriended a kid with flaming red hair, and chatted his ear off. Then a small blonde kid bounded up to the group and gave them packages. Chris liked him immediately, then he found out that he was a player on the team and he liked him even more, because if someone like that could be on the team, then maybe, just maybe, he could have a shot at this. Chris made a split second decision of signing up while still on the tour and he let himself hope, just a little bit.