Say The Word

Chapter 28- Not The Best

  "Both the bodies of his parents found lying dead on the floor. Father, Locie Rivera Canales, 40, was stabbed 17 times with the only knife that could be found in the apartment. According to the police report, the stabbing was continuous. Mother, Ravino Senikos Reyes, 37, was brutally hit in the face multiple times with a broken vodka bottle. Cebario Senikos had been taken into custody for both the weapons used had his fingerprints on them. His brother was sent to the hospital for treatment before further investigation..."

Words stopped having any meaning.

The pleasant suburban world outside instantly drained of all color. The leafy wall was now devoid of any life and the sparkling afternoon was wrapped in a sombre cloak of unrelenting grey. Even the familiar sound of papa's car engine coming to a stop and the news reporter continuing ceased to have clearly defined edges becoming nothing but muffled murmurs. Disbelief enveloped me, completely immobilising me by the sink. The address on the paper given just lost all of its meaning, just as I had lost Ceb in mere minutes. It was as though Cebario coming into my life was a mistake god had made, and was desperately trying to correct.

My legs gave out, allowing my entire body to plop down onto the tiled floor. The knife in my hand was no longer within my grasp, given how heavy it had suddenly become. I looked at the sharp object next to me accidentally; visions of Ceb running it through their father overwhelmed my mind. The gory picture had me curled up into a ball, making me as small as possible, in fear of what I had just imagine would cause me any harm.

"Vastel." I flinched. A warm hand made contact with my body, followed by strings of comforting French sentences I could barely fully comprehend.

Everything in front of me was a blur. I could only feel myself being wrapped in papa's arms. His shirt was wet with my tears. Not a word could be made out.

He held me there for god knows how long.

▪▫▪▫▪

"Vastel, we have to talk about what happened just now," papa sat me down on my bed. His hair damped from the quickest shower I had seen anyone take.

My vision darted around, still looking for a way to escape this conversation. Crescent imprints were made into my calves.

"Mon ange*, I know it is usually you Vati's job to have these kinds of conversations because I am not very good at it. But, Vastel, Vati is not here anymore and you cannot just keep everything in your heart," papa sighed.

"I...Papa, let us say you have a friend and you know they are in some sort of trouble, but you cannot do anything to help them because they say they 'have it under control'. Yet, you can see that they are struggling and do not have everything under control like they said. What would you feel?"

"Well, it depends. I cannot help them because it is a situation where I do not have a say, or is it because they do not want the help offered? Or is it because they would like to try alone first and then would reach out later? If it is the first two, I would simply just support their decision, No matter the decision, I would be there to support them nonetheless."

I took a deep breath. "Papa, my frien- partner, well I actually do not know what we are, they...they were on the news just now. It was not because of good news."

"Alright, go on."

"Before I tell you this, I want you to know that they were living with very physically abusive parents."

"Vastel, I am listening with an open mind, it is alright to say it."

"Their parents were found dead this evening, they were missing for three whole days from school."

The silence was deafening.

It was at that moment, I knew I messed up.

"Vastel, I...I am sorry, I did say an open mind but what you just said, that was unexpected, in the worst way possible. The way you worded it, it was as if you were guessing that they were the one who killed their parents."

"Papa, i-it is impossible to deny that that is a possibility. I really hope not, I really do, but papa, I AM scared. What if they did do it?"

"Mon chou, listen, things will be fine, they are a 17 year old kid, just like you are. Killing somebody is a morally wrong thing to do; it is hard for a person to kill somebody, much less a child who would have to do it to their own parents."

"But, papa, what if they really did do it? Their fingerprints were on the weapons used. What if they were forced to do it?"

"Vastel, you have to wait until the investigation and the trial for us to really know if they are guilty. You cannot fret just yet, do you understand?"

"Oui, papa."

"Good, go get some sleep, you still have school tomorrow."

Oh, lord, school.

▪▫▪▫▪

I was reluctant to slide open that door.

When I finally did it, no one said anything. I didn't think they knew what to say. At least they didn't try to make things worse by saying anything unnecessary, perhaps it was for the best. Everything was heavy; it made what was left of my world feel fragile, as if it could not take any further damage without disappearing completely. It had already crumbled beyond repair, I could not possibly recover from this; everything was dyed in the true colours of despair. Their pitying stares, although did not cause more negative impact, did not help either. I, at that moment, was the definition of mess.

Just like every morning before the news, everything seemed to be like how it was, yet it was obvious there was something missing. They were missing. Their seat was empty, and I knew that they would not be showing up a few seconds before the bell rings, not this time, not anymore, potentially not ever.

My stomach churned as I took a seat.

Sumi shot me a sympathetic look. My eyes avoided hers, breaking the accidental eye contact. The word 'FRIDAY' on the top right corner of the blackboard caught my attention. Oh, Sumi's dance. A lot of people would be there, even if I did promise her, I was dreading it.

God damn it.

*Mon ange – My angel