Chapter One - Weights

He slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the almost welcoming bed. Cecil looked up from his face-full of pillow to gaze out at the almost crimson horizon beyond the lopsided shutters. It would be dark soon, he thought. He knew he should be washing up for dinner right about now but he just couldn't bring himself to do that at the moment. The warm bed was practically ecstasy. He would have to face Ted Nevins and a whole lot of other pains in that hell-hole of a school again tomorrow, he thought bitterly. Finally, after about a minute of the bed, he unwillingly rolled over to sit at the side of the bed.
He began undressing, starting with his shoes. He barely tugged at the lace of his right sneaker when he looked up to a sharp rap on the wooden door. He waited a few seconds, confused, before saying uncertainly 'Uh, come in?'
Normally, the rest of his family - Mom, Dad and Bec - would just barge in unannounced, defeating the very purpose of doors - to provide privacy.
The door swung open to reveal the polite mystery knocker as being Dad, having just gotten back from Colorcom United, the computer company where he worked. He looked drained, his jet black hair was in a mess, his tie hung loosened around his neck.
'Stressful day at-,' Dad cut him off. 'Listen,' he inhaled slowly, staring at the floor with his pants in his pockets, a pained look spread over his face. 'I just wanna say,' he paused, still not looking at him. I had this coming, Cecil thought to himself bitterly. 'That I'm sorry,' Dad almost whispered. Dad was looking at him now, his eyes were filled with anything but anger, overflowing instead, with sadness.
Cecil's brain seemed to jam trying to process the last part of Dad's sentence.
'S..Sorry?' He subconsciously echoed dad. 'I may be a dinosaur to your generation, but I'm not stupid enough not to notice that life hasn't been all that rosy for you here,' he finished with a sad smile.
Cecil realized his jaw was hanging open. He shut hastily and cleared his throat a couple of times before answering 'N..No, really - Everything's just fine,' he added quickly. Was I that obvious? he thought. 'We can move if you want to, you know. We could go back to New York - Anywhere you like, really.' Dad sounded sinciere.
The springs in the mattress groaned beneath him as Dad sat down beside him. 'Dad, I don't want to move - I love San Francisco.' That was true. San Francisco was breathtaking, he loved the creaky Victorian they were in now. The old house was a castle compared to the tiny apartment they rented back in the Bronx. The other reason moving would be a pointless idea, was that people - his "friends" at every school he went to, at least - seemed repelled by his presence.
Dad sighed. Obviously, he thought he had the key to his son's bitterness. 'You're sure,' he asked, staring him down, almost, with his gray eyes that were in some many ways much like his.
'Positive,' Cecil replied, not breaking away from Dad's scanning gaze.
Dad sighed again and got up onto his feet. The mattress springs groaned with relief. Dad walked on over to the door. Before closing it behind him, he turned to look at Cecil. 'Well, the deal's still open if you change your mind,' Dad stated. 'Just gimmie the word and we'll go, alright?' Dad bit his lip, looking away from him before continuing. 'Things will change, Cecil,' he said slowly. 'I love you, son,' Dad almost whispered, his voice shaky.
The door closed with a low click of the pin.
Cecil caught himself staring at the doorknob; struck by the utter power of those last words. Sure, Dad had said it a million times before, but this time - it was different,somehow. Cecil drew in a sharp breath of air and exhaled slowly, fighting the many emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He stared at the door and muttered 'I love you too, Dad.
The crimson backdrop of the city had darkened to a near-pitch blackness; the setting Sun feebly illuminating the far West of the city.
Regret began washing over him - drowning him in a colossal Tsunami of all the wrongs he had done to Dad, to the rest of the family. Although he had never caused any direct problems, he had to admit that he was distant with the rest of the family, alienating himself by spending almost every minute of his at-home time shut up in his room, waiting for the shouting and the nagging to go away.
Cecil's heart sank when he came to the sudden realization - that family was never perfect, it never was. It could never be family if it were as perfect as the many cliches' portrayed in his English course books.
He felt weird, sick, he realized. His chest felt - he couldn't quite find a word for how it felt - It wasn't nearly pain nor was it enjoyable in any sense of the word. It was a weight, he realized, resting on his heart; threatening to shatter it into a million tiny little pieces. He took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
He didn't need this, he didn't have time for dealing with this.
The silence of the upstairs was almost deafening, he noticed. The room was dark, the only source of light was pouring through the crack under the door. Mom, Dad and Bec must be downstairs, enjoying dinner - without him -
Cecil bolted across the room and slammed the bathroom door shut behind him. Mom would throw another fit if he was late for dinner, he thought as he trashed around in front of the mirror, struggling to escape his T-shirt.

Chapter one. Please comment in the Cbox.