The Colors Of His Persona

His Persona- 7

A couple of days passed, and I held my phone in my hand, looking at photos of my sister. I was on social media, looking at anything that piqued my interest, and it did. I was somewhat saddened seeing the smiling faces of my aunt and uncle hugging Ashlyn lovingly, her stomach peeking out a little. In the background was a resort of some expensive hotel, but the caption was what choked me: "family getaway."

In the past, I didn't let whatever my two-faced aunt and uncle did get to me, but it hurt knowing that I was never treated as family, even though I was. My sister, who claimed our aunt and uncle were stopping her from calling me, seemed true but far-fetched. She never contacted me once, even though she said she would. That got to me. I always remembered deep down that I didn't need the agony of what those people did, for my mind was set on finding the truth about my parents' death.

As I put my phone away, feeling apathy on a Saturday night, Jan was away for the weekend, meaning I had no one to watch movies with. Left to emotions I didn't want to feel, I eventually stood up, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was only 8 pm, and my bliss to bury myself in stories vanished.

I reached for my coat as I put on my sneakers. It was the middle of September, so the nights were getting colder little by little. I had no destination in mind. Exiting my home, I put the keys in my pocket after locking the door.

It was a silent night; the neighborhood gave off an edgy vibe, having the impact of danger just seconds away. I put my hands in the pockets of the jacket, warming them as the chilly breeze blew. I walked with no particular destination in mind, but my feet took me to the old children's park just a couple of feet away from my apartment.

I sat on one of the swings; it creaked with the known sound of its abandonment from the rust and the smell of ancientness left for many years. I stared openly at the night sky, feeding into the lights of the many stars. I found that moment as one of escape, wanting to be that star shining bright. My mother always told me I was the brightest star in the dimmest areas of her life.

I felt the warm liquid of tears slide down my cheeks; it felt foreign to me that I was even crying. "Stupid," I mumbled as I roughly rubbed my cheeks, making sure the wetness was now gone. I promised I would never cry, even at my parents' burial.

I wrapped the coat tighter around me, shaking my head from those thoughts. I attempted to swing; each movement created a creaky sound from the swing. Funny enough, I didn't mind it.

Suddenly, howls and aggressive barking were heard from the left of me, coming from the main road alleyway. I heard frightful screams, pleading for the dogs to go away. I stood up before I could stop myself; I was halfway there, panting, almost out of breath.

My eyes caught sight of a woman no older than seventy, gripping tightly around herself with one hand outstretched, sending pleads for the dogs to go away. I made a stop instantly, knowing these dogs, the light brown fur on their backs.

"Owl, Pat, come here," I said loudly but softly, getting the dogs' attention from the lady. They turned around, hearing their names, with hanging tongues and a wag of their tail, they came closer. I reached out, petting them yet scolding them with a firm look on my face.

"Now, why are you two out? Maryann must be worried sick," I said as they bowed their heads, whimpering at the tone of my voice. "Now go home, don't cause any more trouble."

At first, they didn't budge, but I pointed firmly in the direction of their home. I watched as they both walked off with a slight growl at the quivering lady. I exhaled, making sure they were gone, because they would turn back due to their stubbornness.

I rubbed my hands on my jeans, walking carefully over to the lady. She was now sitting on the ground, breathing hardly, with her hand still covering her face and her hand outstretched.

"Miss, it's okay now; they're gone," I said reassuringly, stooping down to her level. "Trust me, let me help you."

She moved her hands slowly, her tear-streaked face coming into view. She had a few wrinkles, her round face flush red, looking at me with caution, her blue eyes red. I gave her a soft smile, reaching out my hand for her to take. At first, she looked at it, hesitating. I reassured her that it's safe, that no one or nothing will hurt her.

She took my hand,

gripping it tightly. We stood up, brushing ourselves off. I gave her an honest look, taking her hand as we walked from the area to a bench in the children's park. I waited for her to calm down, giving her as much time as she needed.

"How did you get here, if you don't mind me asking?" I said softly, seeing how she looked down, clenching her hands.

"I-I don't know," she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Okay. How about home?" I said cautiously, seeing her eyes brighten.

"I wanna go home. Yes, I was searching for home," she said.

I smiled warmly. "I'll take you home. Is it around here?"

"Yes... no. I don't know," she said confusingly, thinking to herself.

She seemed mostly lost in thought. I felt sadness coming from her, but I knew it was not my place to ask. I needed to help, thinking of a way to help was hard, not knowing her address.

"How about someone to call?" I asked.

She jumped, going through her pockets. A crumpled piece of paper was handed to me; it had only one number but no name. I decided to call without thinking much of it.

"Hello," a low voice of a man came on, as if he was holding down emotions.

"Um... hello, I am calling in place of a lady here..." I was suddenly cut off.

"You found my mom?" he said hastily, the emotions he tried to swallow coming to the surface.

"Your mom? Yes, I think so," I said unsure of the relation.

"Tell me where you are; I'm coming right now," he said, the sounds of keys and his breathless voice told me he was already running to his car. So, with a quick notion of the address, the call ended.

"Your son is coming for you," I said happily but was caught off guard by her confused glance.

"My son?" she questioned, the softness of her voice coming as sobs.

"My baby. I couldn't protect him, my baby," she said, holding herself tightly as she shook, as if cold. I frantically tried to calm her down, but I couldn't.

"Did something happen?" I questioned, placing my hands on her shaking ones.

The sound of an engine being turned off and briskly running footsteps came closer. "Mom," the voice said, coming closer as he hugged her tightly.

"Why are you crying? I'm here now," he spoke, calming her down.

I sat there awkwardly, seeing the scene play out. I smiled sadly, coming to a stand, not wanting to interrupt.

I tucked my hands in my coat pockets. "I'm sorry. I saw her being attacked by some dogs," I spoke as soon as the sobbing stopped.

"Damn. I'm sorry to have troubled you; we had no idea where she went. Thank goodness you found her," he said, coming to stand, but he paused when his eyes met mine, and I gasped out loud, never expecting to see him again.