Maybe This Time

CHAPTER NINETEEN : BLOODY VISIT

CHAPTER NINETEEN   :       BLOODY VISIT

                My head’s keep on making justifications on why should he be thankful that finally he has found his mother, I walk serenely until I reach my house, but as I enter the main garden, something is off. My intuition’s telling me that something’s wrong, because the garden gate is unlocked which I regularly secures to lock and there are scattered crumpled flowers at the doorstep, I keep walking to the front porch, I really feel that something’s different, I scanned my garden again, did a burglar just broke to my house?

                Kicking the paranoia aside, I went in, but instead of using the front door, I turn around and use the back porch, the usual empty feeling of the halls became warm. The kitchen is dead silent; I switch on the wall light, the dribbling inside my ribcage doesn’t subside a little. Turning the stove on and setting the kettle, I waited and remained silent, building courage to roam the house when I heard something broke from outside the kitchen. 

                I summoned all the courage I have left, carrying a knife, I walk slowly and as quiet as possible outside the kitchen, the hallways are empty, the stairs are quiet and the doors are closed, maybe I am just paranoid. 

                I went back to the kitchen to gather my things and decided to change my clothes. I am on the third step of the staircase when a low whistle echoed through the dark walls of the house, chills run down my spine as the whistle sounded nearer, I swallowed the fear that’s eating me now. I walked silently back to the kitchen to get the knife I left near the stove then proceeded to the  hall when another noise sent goose bumps all over me, someone just coughed. I can feel my hands cold but I turn towards the way to the living area, which is pitch black in there suddenly I sense movement from the corner of the television, a flicker of fire caught my eyes and smoke followed, my heart beat jump up and fear envelopes me as the flicker of light came closer, I point the knife to the nearing image but fear fails me because I’m shaking. I step back but when faint light hit his face, a familiar face,he looks so rugged and disoriented. His eyes red and sombre with dark shadows beneath, his clothes creased and a bit foul a smell I didn’t know what mixture made up, his hair looks sticky… 

                “I-Isaac... damn! You scared me!” His face looks tired, 

                “Knife-point greeting? Not ethical.” I lowered the knife, I feel uncertain seeing him inside my house, memories from our last encounter flashes through me, I can’t help but shun away from him. 

                “W-why are you here?” I ask quietly, he puffs another smoke in between us; he looks at me as if appraising my body, I turn back to the kitchen, but the knife  keep close, it’s hard to trust him after all the physical assault he have given me the last time, he’s standing by the doorway, still puffing smoke, 

                “Coffee?” At least I should try to be casual; 

               “What took you so long?”I noticed a bulge at his side, and the paranoia is kicking in again,

              “What do you mean?”I turn half way, discreetly holding the knife closer to me, 

                “You don’t typically go home late from work, Vans.” He walks to the back door and leaned by the door, 

                “I’ve been extending hours recently, y-you know, finishing proposals...” 

                “Or maybe attending special services to the CEO?” here we go again, my hold tightened to the knife, if last time he got me off guard, this time I won’t let him touch even a strand of my hair,