GABRIEL'S POV
While I was laying at bed that night, I was thinking of how I can make it up to Hope.
Avery shifted her position and faced my side, "Hey, why are you still awake?" she sleepily said.
"Just thinking," I murmured while my eyes were locked on the ceiling.
"About what?"
"Hope," I know the jealousy Avery feels towards Hope. No matter how I tried to make her understand, I always failed. But it has been years since they last saw each other, and everyone has changed... hopefully.
"Can we visit the art gallery tomorrow?"
"Can we do that the day after tomorrow?"
"No! Honey, we just got everything between us fixed, don't refuse my invitation to spend time with you. I'm trying to make up for the lost time. And besides, you promised me last time you'll do everything for me."
I can't risk getting our relationship into a mess again— a thought that I haven't imagined would get me into trouble against my own sister whom my world revolved back then.
Turning the page in my childhood years, I never got to play with anyone in the neighborhood. Children of my age never wanted to do anything with me and made fun of me. They said I was different. They never saw me smile, laugh, threw tantrums, or even cried. I guess my straight face along with my good posture and manners scared the shit out of those cry-babies. And newsflash said I'm a nerd because I always carry a book with me wherever I go. I'd rather read than talk.
Mom used to ask countless times, "Why wouldn't you talk to them?"
At first, I didn't give her answers. But when I noticed how she kept on asking the same question over and over again, it got on my nerves. "Because I haven't seen a human being that's more interesting than books." It put an end on my mom's blabbering. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom, and I respect her. My sharp tongue just gets in the way if my patience is being pushed on the edge.
Years later, when I learned about mom's pregnancy, I started reading about human anatomy, pregnancy, and human development with the guidance of my dad. During that time, it was the most interesting matter I've read. I can't deny the excitement I felt knowing that for the first time someone belongs to me and I to her. Her birth brought so much joy and light to our family. The first time I laid my eyes on her was the first time I genuinely smiled. "Mom, she's beautiful. What's her name?"
"We actually haven't chosen a name yet, but I think Hope would be perfect for her."
"I like it. Hope," I responded while my eyes were locked on the small and fragile figure of my sister.
"She's your hope, honey."
I know what mom means. My heart was overflowing with happiness and the smile on my face won't fade away. I looked up to my mom and dad, "Thank you."
"I bet my son finally found what he's looking for," dad said, which made mom playfully hit his arm and they both shared laughter while I kept on studying the features of my little sister. She is beautiful. My precious gem. My sister. Mine.
Since the first time I saw her, I stuck with Hope at all times. She shouldn't be out of my sight or else I'll turn into a shithead. Unlike the other kids, I really don't give a fuck if I don't have friends to hang out with, and if I'm being bullied at grade school and middle school which is tiring as hell, but I always managed to find a way out and piss the bullies by treating them as if I don't see, hear, nor feel them. I could easily throw my fist in their faces, but the thought of Hope helped me a lot in making better choices in life. I don't care about anyone as long as my grades are good, and I can be with our baby girl.
I grew overprotective of Hope because I was afraid that she'd experience hell like I did. I tried to give her a world where everything's nice, good, and kind. She deserves it. But little did I know that the day would come when I'll let her go; she'll grow and choose her own world to live.
"Ow!" I touched the back of my head and saw mom standing behind me with a cookbook in her hand which made my eyes widened. "Mom, did you just hit me with that? In my head?"
"Is it obvious? I thought your brain needed a little re-arrangement."
"What?! Are you kidding me?"
"No. Gabriel, you see, I asked five times what were you doing home early. You were staring at thin air. I thought my smart child lost his mind. I panicked, so I hit your head."
"Very funny, mom."
"Leave the bar island if you'll act like a brainless lunatic in front of me. I'll be cooking dinner and you are of no help."
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'll cook instead."
"Really?" her face lit up and I nodded. "Alright, make something your sister would eat, she hasn't had lunch."
"What?! How come she..." I looked at my watch, "Mom! She's starving!"
"She. Dozed. Off. Now, make something good and bring it to her room."
Mom placed the cookbook on the bar island, patted my back, and was about to leave, "Gabriel, please make dinner edible. I love you, son."
I shook my head in disbelief.
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YOU ARE READING
Untangling Strings
ChickLitWhen you are the source of light and hope of the people dear to you, where would you turn to if the past mixes up with the present and consumes every part of you? How will you stand still if your ground is crumbling yet your feet are tied? Life woul...