It
was two weeks after I accidentally stabbed Savannah to death. Ever since that
night happened, I’m always dreading the time when I have to come back home. Of
course, Ryan was an incredible father but it was when his wife was still alive.
He’d grown harsh and always gave me the cold shoulder whenever I try to speak
to him about training, school, girls, et cetera. We barely have dinner
together. I still cooked for him but each morning, I’d find the food untouched,
as he did not, once again, eat his last meal of the day.
It hurt me even more as each day
passes by without Ryan even saying a single letter to me. It also saddened me
because I had the second chance to have another father but it only lasted for
eleven years. I know it’s a long time but if I was given one wish, I’d ask for
those years were I have a father to lengthen, simply because I missed the
feeling of having one.
It appeared to me that he doesn’t
remember adopting a son, for all he could think about was his deceased wife and
the devious teenager residing on the same roof as he was. For all I knew, he
was more than willing to get rid of me.
But I guess he realized he couldn’t
do that so in lieu, he got rid of himself.
I was walking home one day from
school. I remembered that day as one of the best because the girl I liked
finally saw me. I wasn’t invisible to her anymore; I wasn’t a nobody any
longer. Smiling like I just won the lottery, I trotted towards the path I
usually took to get home faster. Even though I knew Ryan wouldn’t even care one
bit, I was excited to tell him about my day and to let him know about the girl
I like that was very similar to Savannah.
After I retrieved our mails that
were literally piling up inside the mailbox, I headed to the door. The house
was quiet and empty-like though I know it’s not. It’s just the atmosphere
around made it seem like it. Ryan was a happy-go-lucky person and he’s like a
ray of sunshine to everybody he met. He used to lighten up our middle-class
abode and in every corner; you can hear Savannah’s musical laughter echoing
because her husband had told her yet another corny joke. Perhaps that’s what
made Savannah madly fall in love with him. I haven’t really asked them about
their love story but I guess I didn’t had any chance to as my second father had
completely ignored me for the past two weeks.
“Ryan?” I called out. I never really
got used to the fact that he’s my father now so I didn’t brought myself up to
call him Dad. Ryan approved of this though. He said that’s exactly the
relationship he wanted to build with his son—a best friend type of
relationship. Like, they can tell each other everything without a single trace
of hesitation but at the same time, shouldn’t get carried away with it as
though his son forgets he’s his father.
I dropped my school bag on the floor
and tried to call him once again. I know he’s home. He quit his job so he
didn’t have to leave the house thinking that Savannah wanted him to stay by her
side forever. Maybe it’s one of the effects of having depression—developing
imaginative thoughts, I mean. Sometimes, when I summon him for dinner (in which
he never attended to), I always find him sitting on the bed he used to share
with his wife and reciting her name over and over again as if it’s like a poem
he needed to memorize to recite to the class the following day. His eyes were
always looking at that one certain spot in his bedroom—the vanity. It’s the
place where his wife used to spend a lot of time in.
In that moment, I knew he’s seeing
Savannah.
Fear suddenly attacked me and gave
me a stinging slap across the face. It’s not the kind of fear when you realize
there’s something else living in the same house other than you but it’s the
kind of fear where you worry for your future. Fear of what may come next. I’m
afraid of what would happen to me now that my adoptive father were experiencing
something remotely similar to what I have. What would happen now that we’re
both hallucinating? Our situation was already worse than the worst and I don’t
know what’s ghastlier than that. It could get out of hand and…I couldn’t even
bear to think of that idea.
“Ryan?” I tried once again as I
headed up the stairs and into his bedroom. It was the first door to the right
and it was the one room with the biggest space. I knocked thrice and when I
received no response, I twist the knob only to find it unlocked. Slowly and
gently, I pushed the door open and I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Ryan, the goodhearted man with a
kind soul that gave shelter to me when I was broken and traumatized at the age
of six, was hanging with a rope tightly wrapped around his neck and his feet
inches above from the ground.
* * *
My
whole body trembles in fear the instant my eyes fly open, hands absently
reaching for my neck and giving it a light caress.
Normally, my nightmares don’t
terrify me that much anymore because I’ve grown to them. Most of the time I
just shrug it off because having them is like part of my nature now. It’s like
a part of me already that without it, I’m not myself. But this is one nightmare
I haven’t had before.
It scared me because for
six-year-olds, it’s already traumatizing to watch your own parents die in front
of your very eyes. What more if it’s seeing another one of your loved ones kill
themselves because the depression is just too much? The image of my parents’
bloody corpses was already gruesome enough and Ryan just made it more intense,
more horrifying. And it scared the hell out of me.
I remember how Ryan’s eyes were
rolled up, causing for the white part of his eyes to show and how the tip of
his tongue was slightly poking out of his lips.
I shake my head and rub my eyes to
take the disturbing image out of my mind. The out of pitch singing voice coming
from behind my walls surprisingly helped me to steer my thoughts away from my
horrendous nightmare. I know for a fact that Rue is not much of a singer
unlike her brother whom I’ve heard singing in the shower and sometimes humming
in the kitchen numerous times. I decided a long time ago to keep all my
observations about them to myself. I guess Finnick is aware of this, as he’s not
been lounging around the house for quite some time. Maybe he has his own
reasons but…that’s just my hunch.
I take a shower and change into a
new set of clean clothes and head downstairs to grab breakfast.
It’s Friday today and considering
that the boys and I were out clubbing last night, Thresh had given me the go
signal to skip school today. There’s only a month left before it ends and the
odds are in my favor for weeks are flying by as fast as the Formula One racers
can go.
Speaking of Finnick, I’m quite
surprised to see him in the kitchen cooking something probably for him only.
He’s not fond of doing something for others unless it’s anything serious and
badly needed or necessary. Not that he’s an egotistical person who only thinks
about his own needs, but he does not actually fall on the expressive type
category. He’s more of a mime, depending on his gestures.
“Good morning.” I greet him as I
open the refrigerator to find any edible things that are left.
Finnick swings around and smiles at
me. “Good morning to you too, Cato. Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” He
inquires while transferring his omelet on a small square plate.
“How am I going to handle attending
school when we technically went home at two in the morning last night?” I
respond.
His eyes widen in realization. After
setting his plate on the dinner table, he makes his way to the nearest bathroom.
He comes back with two medicine pills and grabs a bottle of water from the
fridge.
“Here,” he says, setting down the
pills and the bottle in front of me. “It’s for your hangover.”
I guess the nightmare was all I
could think about a while ago when I woke up that I didn’t even realized my
pounding head. I immediately pop the pills into my mouth and gulps an
acceptable amount of water to swallow it down. I hope this lessens my headache
in an instant. I don’t want to deal with this pain anymore.
“How are you feeling so well?” I
ask, disbelieving the fact that Finnick isn’t suffering any pain right now. “You
drank last night. Don’t you have a hangover or something?”
Finnick chuckles as he cuts a piece of
omelet with his fork. “Yes, I did but I didn’t took a gallon unlike someone.” He teases.
“Hey!” I complain. “I only had two
bottles.”
“Yeah and you were begging to have
two more before you start running to the bathroom to vomit.” Finnick says,
rolling his eyes. I can just hear the sarcasm in his voice.
“Fine.” I give in. “How many did I
had last night?”
“Eight.” Finnick answers quickly as he
chews another huge piece of omelet.
I slap my face with my palm in
disappointment. Already drinking heaps of alcohol at the age of seventeen. “I’m
never going to drink again.” I say to no one in particular.
“Don’t say that or else you’ll
swallow your own words.” Finnick warns me.
I’m having enough of this
conversation so I change the topic. “Where are the Okeniyis, by the way?” I ask,
heading to the fridge to grab two eggs to make myself some breakfast.
“Thresh was called to the office
again and Rue is at school of course.” Finnick answers.
“Why aren’t you at the office then?”
“Day off.” He shrugs.
I don’t say a thing afterwards and
Finnick thankfully gives me the silence I want as I prepare my scrambled eggs.
* * *
Thresh arrives just after his sister’s dismissal time, requesting for me to pick Rue up from school. I oblige, as I see no point in objecting. I don’t know which
school the thirteen-year-old attends and I legitimately don’t want to use the
annoying GPS that only confuses me every time I drive.
I hop inside my chosen vehicle for
the day and drive off to the direction the GPS points me to. Honestly, I wasn’t
really the one who chose the car; it was Rue's request to take the Lexus. I
messaged her back asking why and she answered that there are girls at school
that totally hate her as a human being and she wanted to show them off.
The female voice asks me to take the
next right to a residential area where I have to pass through to get to the
location of the school. When I do so, I can’t help but sense the area’s
familiarity. I know I have been here before but I just can’t quite put my
finger on it.
Arriving at the school, I
immediately eye Rue standing at the lobby glaring at me. I stop in front of
her and she gets in, never forgetting to let out a heavy sigh that can only
mean I did something wrong.
“What now?” I question when I start
to drive again.
“You’re late.” She announces.
“It wasn’t my fault.” I respond.
“Thresh was supposed to pick you up on his way home but he reasoned that he
has a lot of work to finish by tonight so he asked me to pick you up.”
“You could’ve come sooner.”
“Blame the GPS.” Keeping my eyes on
the road, I tell her.
When we are on the same residential
again, my mind flies back to the same thought I had a while ago. I know in my
heart I’ve been to this place but I just can’t say it. It’s like at the tip of
my tongue.
Rue sits ramrod straight and
glances out the window, her finger cautiously pointing at something. “Hey, is
that Clove?” She questions.
I knew there’s something about this
neighborhood. I slam on the brakes a bit harshly causing for the both of us to
lean forward. “Huh? Where?”
“There.” Rue points out and I
follow her finger. I see Clove leaning on her car, probably inspecting if
something is wrong with her engine. Even though she has her back on us, I know
for a fact that it’s Clove. I can’t be mistaking that long glossy black hair.
Rue twists her body around to look at me. “Do you want me to talk to her now?”
I contemplate about it for at least
five seconds before giving her my final decision. Nodding, I tell her, “Yeah. I
think you should talk to her now.”
Rue disembarks the car and trudges
off to the open garage door to speak to Clove. I lower my head just in case
she looks this way and sees me. I watch as Rue taps her
shoulder and Clove twirls around in surprise. I don’t know what Rue is telling
her but for a second, Clove's face lightens up and her smile widens but I
guess it is when Rue mentions my name that her face
abruptly shows something of annoyance.
A couple minutes later, Clove wipes
her greasy hands on her worn out dungarees as she waves goodbye at Rue who’s
casually walking back towards my car. She enters and looks at me
disappointingly and I know instantaneously that it’s a failure.
“So…?”
“Better luck next time, Cato.”
Rue voices out and her seat belt locks in place with a click.
“Is that her words or yours?”
“Both.”
Exhaling a sigh of defeat, I shift
the gear to drive giving one last glance at Clove. “I guess we’ll have to try
some other day.” I say before I pull off from the curb and head back home.
* * *
Saturday
afternoon, I return to the same neighborhood to speak to Clove myself. I know
she asked for more time to think about things but I just need her to become
friends with me again. I don’t care that I’m being too pushy or coming on too
strong with this. Even now that I’m partly against the new plan to use her for
Brutus, I still need to prove to Thresh that I’m not giving up on this just
because I’m slowly developing romantic feelings towards the girl.
I park at least one block away from
her house. Grabbing the box of dark chocolates from the passenger seat, I make
my way to her long walkway that leads to her front door. I remember when Clove and I were at the carnival she mentioned that she’s a sucker for dark
chocolates, so I bought her one box of it as a peace offering. I know she can’t
resist these delectable sweets.
Before I can even step foot on the
first stair, the front door opens and Clove comes out. She stops in her tracks
when she eyes me, surprise evident on her features. I speak up when she turns
around to reenter her house.
“I come in peace.” I announce,
holding the box out for her to take.
She looks at my offering with such
suspicion I’m starting to think she won’t accept it. “What’s that? Is there a
bomb inside?” Clove inquires.
I laugh. “I’m not trying to kill
you. I brought you these because I know how much you love dark chocolates.”
When I mention the sweets, her face
softens and her eyes suddenly has that twinkle that I always see every time
something makes her happy; the corners of her mouth slowly curving upward into
a toothy smile.
“There you go,” I say, “that’s the
smile I was looking for.”
Clove bites her lower lip as she
finally accepts my peace offering. “Thank you for this, Cato.” She says
quietly like she’s afraid that someone may hear she’s actually thanking
somebody. “But you know you don’t have to.”
“Oh, I insist.” I wave a hand at her
before shoving them both inside my front pockets.
Clove sits on the steps and she
gestures for me to do the same. I settle down next to her making sure to leave
enough space between us. I need to be extra careful because I know she hasn’t
forgiven me fully yet. Heck, I don’t even know if she’s forgiven me at all.
“Cato?” Calls Clove.
“Hmm?”
“Did I…did I overreacted? You know,
about this whole drama between us?” Clove gazes into my eyes and I suddenly
have this want to just lean in and kiss her. I guess it’s her breathtaking
hazel eyes that made me kiss her the last time. But I fight the urge to do so.
The girl just gave me the haphazard to talk to her again and I can’t risk
losing that one more time.
I shrug my shoulders not really
knowing how to respond to that. “Maybe?” I give a sideway glance and a cheeky
smile. “I mean, it’s right for you to think that I’m taking advantage of you
because that’s how I made it appear but…I already told you this Clove, I’m not
taking advantage of you and never will I ever.”
Clove opens the box of chocolates
and offers me one. I shake my head with a smile. “It’s yours to enjoy.” I say.
“It’s mine to enjoy and share.” Clove replies. She pushes
the box closer to me and I just give in. I take one and pop it into my mouth
the same time she does. My eyebrows rise in surprise when I
bite into my chocolate and its strong mint flavor invades my taste buds.
“I think you’re right, Cato. I know I
should’ve forgiven you sooner but there’s just this part of me that always
denies everything. Like this one time, I told myself to just go and see you and
tell you that I forgive you and then this little voice inside is like making me
think twice about my decision.” She says, going back to our preempted topic.
“That’s your mind speaking, but have
you been listening to your heart?”
“I…I don’t know. I have been over
thinking things that I forgot to consult my heart, to hear what it has to say.”
Closing the lid of the box and setting it aside, Clove ventures.
“Well, let’s hear it right now.” I
suggest. “Try giving yourself time to listen to it and tell me what it says.”
Clove closes her eyes as she
inhales deeply. The summery breeze flies by and her long raven hair sway behind
her back and a few strands hit her face. She ignores it, continuing with her
activity.
Resting my elbow on my knee and my
right temple on my palm, I study every single detail of Clove's face. I take
in her naturally and perfectly arched eyebrows, how her eyelashes curl upwards
when her eyelids covers the most beautiful hazel eyes I’ve ever seen; the curve
of the bridge of her cute nose that never fails to tempt me into poking the tip
every single time. Her soft cheeks that always bounces when Marvel jabs it,
which only annoys the girl, and gosh…her cheekbones. It’s always the first thing
I look at when she smiles. My eyes travel down to her congenital pink lips. I
absolutely adore how her upper lip is slightly forward making it look like
she’s biting her lower lip. And her jaw line resembles Johanna's but more attractive, at least in my opinion. Oh, and her freckles! How can I ever forget that?
My phone suddenly rings causing for
Clove to open her eyes in surprise. She looks at me with disappointed eyes
before standing up; brushing the back of her shorts to remove the dirt and
heads back inside.
I decline my call just in time for
Clove to shut her door close. I kick the bottom stair in frustration. As if
that isn’t enough, I boot a small random stone and it hit the base of Clove's yard tree. Everything was going great until someone decided to call me and ruin
the moment. I know that person has no idea where I am or what I’m doing but
it’s the timing that aggravates me. On the bright side though, Clove's anger
is slowly diminishing and I know I already have a minimum of fifty percent
chance of becoming her friend again.
“See you, Clove.” I whisper whereas
I know she won’t be able to hear me.
I turn on my heels and head back to
my car. This isn’t how I planned things to work out. I thought those chocolates
will get her to finally talk to me. Well, it did work but that stupid phone call ruined everything. At least now
I know that when Clove is soaking in the moment and enjoying her company, she
doesn’t want to be interrupted. I guess I’m just this unfortunate today.
I’m so close to reaching the end of
her walkway when I hear Clove's front door opening. Her heavy footsteps running
down the stairs tells me she’s trying to keep up. I feel a gentle tap on my
shoulder and I turn around only to meet Clove's pale face.
“There’s a party at my house
tonight. I figured you wanted to come.” She notifies, biting her lip in that
adorable way I’m swiftly growing fond of.
I smirk. “Of course, I wouldn’t want
to miss it for the world.”
“Great. I’ll see you tonight then.”
Clove says. She places a hand on my shoulder and for a second, she hesitates
but finally decides to lean in and plant a kiss on my cheek. Her lips linger on
the same spot for a couple of seconds before she pulls away. “Goodbye.”
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