Yellowed

Chapter 7; A Family Portrait

Unlike all those other nights, the moon and the stars are nowhere to be found. The sky is pitch black, the kind of night you only find in nature like you were in deep mountain caves. But I am here again, on this rooftop. It became my habit to go here every night. Somehow it makes me feel that I have nothing to worry about. That I am safe and not in trouble. 

Another thing that I looked forward to is Mr. Gray. He has been with me almost every night, too, but he comes very late. I am sometimes ready to leave when he arrives, but I always stay. This rooftop became our talking place where the line that defines a student and a teacher doesn't exist—the place where we started sharing stories about ourselves. I was surprised the first time when Mr. Gray asked me why I came here every night. I didn't know what to say because I felt it was ridiculous that I didn't know the answer or was not ready to say it. But I knew staying here and talking to him helped ease my thoughts. 

We stayed and talked about everything until we were sleepy, and one decided to go. But during the day, when we were at the university, we didn't talk about it. Not that it was a secret, but it was something I didn't want to bring up every time we were together, and I know he feels the same. It was like not wanting to make trouble or having to deal with it. So, this was our time to talk to each other. This was the only time we really were ourselves.

"The night is so dark. Doesn't it creep you out?" It is Mr.Gray. Like the other times, it's again eleven o'clock in the evening, the usual time that he came.  

"No, sir. I seem to like it," I said without turning around. 

"But why aren't you going near the edge?" he asked. 

I looked at him and took a few steps forward, "because you are not here yet. No one would stop me from jumping," I said playfully.

He laughed, "Yeah, good choice," He came near me as we both went near the edge. 

We found ourselves leaning on the railings. As usual, the place was comfortably quiet. The wind feels colder than usual, damp, and I can feel the chill. I blamed myself in my thoughts for not bringing my hoodie. 

" Are you feeling cold?" he asked. 

"No, it's fine," I said. 

"I think it's gonna rain soon," he said, looking up at the black sky.

"Why do you say so?"

"The wind. It's whispering and it's wet." 

"You felt that?" I asked, looking at him, but I couldn't see his face clearly. It was too dark. 

"Yeah, I used to play in the rain back when I was a child in the province," he said. 

 I just nod. He was right, I guess. 

"What about you? what game do you play when you're a kid?" he asked again

"I didn't like playing," I said blankly, "I was the quiet type who got ignored because I didn't like to play. I was different from the rest of my classmates."

"What about your siblings?" he said plainly, but it seemed like something heavy was dropped inside my stomach. I don't know what to say. 

"We don't really talk that much and my father didn't want us to play, he said that it was a waste of time."

He turned to me and said, "that must be sad, being a kid is one thing that a person must enjoy."

"Yeah, but I didn't actually feel it until he left us."