ABSTRACT LOVE

CHAPTER 20-BAD DAYS

Days passed by, and those days slowly turned into months. The situation never seemed to change. Gill, Laurel, and little Sandra continued to struggle quietly in their small, worn-down apartment. Bills piled up on the rickety wooden table. Shoes wore thin. Food became simpler, then scarcer, then almost nonexistent. It felt as though life itself was deliberately standing still, refusing to offer them even the smallest push forward.

At first, Gill had believed their hardship would be temporary. Maybe a job would come his way. Maybe a miracle would appear. Maybe they would simply wake up one morning and everything would somehow be better. But as time stretched on, those hopes began to fade. Laurel also tried to remain calm, for Sandra’s sake more than her own, yet even her strength began to show cracks around the edges.

Sandra, still too young to truly understand, simply sensed tension in the air. She noticed the way her parents whispered more than they laughed. She noticed the way Gill sat on the edge of the bed at night, his face buried in his hands. She noticed the way Laurel stared at empty cupboards as if she could magically will them to fill.

Gill knew they could not keep going like that.

So after many silent nights of thinking, he finally decided to suggest something he had been avoiding for a long time. Gill only had one sibling, a younger brother named Demzel. He was the second and last born, arriving nearly seven years after Gill. Because of the age gap, Gill had always felt responsible for him while they were growing up. Over time, however, Demzel had gone his own way, building a life that seemed a little more stable, a little less worn-down around the edges.

Gill did not like asking for help. Pride was something he had always carried tightly in his chest. But reality had pushed him into a corner.

One night, while Laurel was folding the same few clothes they owned, Gill finally spoke.

“How about we go and visit my brother, Demzel?” he said softly, as if the words weighed something. “He might be able to give us some financial support… at least for now. Just until things get better for us.”

Laurel paused, hands still, cloth halfway folded. She looked at him for a long moment, reading the quiet desperation hiding in his calm voice. She knew how hard it was for him to say those words. Gill had always been the one others relied on — not the other way around.

“Well,” she replied gently, “that doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan.” Then she gave him a small, tired smile and urged him to get some rest. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

The next morning, they didn’t waste any time. As soon as the sun peeked weakly into the sky, they prepared for the journey. They had no proper car — not anymore — so walking was their only option. Demzel didn’t live extremely far away, but the trip was still long enough to feel heavy, especially with tired feet and tired hearts.

Sandra walked between them, holding both their hands. Her steps were small but determined. Laurel glanced at Gill, noticing the way his jaw tightened with every step, as if he was wrestling with invisible thoughts.

To break the silence, she decided to start a conversation.

“It’s been a while since you last visited Demzel, hasn’t it?” she said lightly.

Gill nodded. “Yeah. Too long, maybe. We talked once in a while, but… life happens, I guess.”

Laurel hummed quietly in response. She didn’t want to push, but she could sense the storm of emotions moving behind his steady expression. Asking your younger brother for help was never easy — especially when you once felt like the older, stronger one.

They walked past rows of faded buildings, chipped paint clinging stubbornly to cracked walls. Stray dogs lounged lazily beneath broken fences. Old shops stood silent, some closed permanently, some barely surviving — just like them.

Sandra occasionally skipped ahead, then came running back to grab her parents’ hands again. She didn’t fully understand where they were going, but she trusted them completely.

“How is Demzel these days?” Laurel asked after a while.

Gill sighed gently. “From what I know, he’s doing alright. Has a better job than I ever did. Lives in a small apartment not too far from here. He’s… different now. More serious. Less carefree.”

Laurel smiled faintly. “People change.”

“Yeah,” he replied, though his voice carried something heavy — maybe worry that those changes meant distance.

The road stretched on, sunlight shifting slowly overhead. Sometimes they walked in silence. Sometimes Sandra hummed softly to herself. Sometimes Gill’s mind wandered back to childhood memories of him and Demzel — running around barefoot, sharing secrets, planning futures neither of them fully understood.

He wondered if asking for help would disappoint that younger version of himself — the one who swore he would always protect his little brother, not rely on him.

But then he glanced at Laurel. And Sandra. And the worn shoes. And the empty pockets. And he knew this wasn’t about pride anymore. It was about survival — about giving his family even the smallest chance.

“We’re almost there,” he finally said, spotting the familiar street ahead.

Laurel squeezed his hand gently. “Whatever happens,” she whispered, “we’ll face it together.”

Gill nodded, breathing in slowly as they continued toward Demzel’s apartment — not knowing whether the door that waited for them ahead would open with warmth, hesitation, or something entirely unexpected.

But they kept walking.

Because they had to.