Summoning Silences : The SuperNova ✔

II

Part I
Chapter -2

I kicked the little pebbles in my way. Home was around the corner. From the other edge appeared the 'Corny Brothers', (Actually, the 'Cowell' Brothers, two twins five years older than me, and the last brother my age; I named them so because their bullying was now like a 'corny' joke to me). I had tried to keep out of their sight first when I was seven, then by eleven I had concluded that it was no use. So I merely waited and did not react. When Silvia-the eldest who got unlucky with the name-cornered me and pushed his arm into my neck to crush it between his bone and the wall, I heard his youngest brother ask me for money.

I had beat all the three of them up alone when I was fifteen, when they had done something of the sort to my mother. Though I did end up in the hospital bed with three broken bones in my body. My mom was miserable that month. My heart ached for her more than my broken body itself. Afterward, the news spread, and they never said anything to my mother, though I became a more frequented target.

So I never attacked, just received it all patiently. They ripped my pockets apart, and searched my back. It hardly took them three minutes-and I was alone in the street, with a bruised back of the head, and robbed of the money that I had saved for some books, some of which I had to return to Nory the next day.

Mom asked me how my day was, while I observed her elegant way of devouring bland broth and bread. I always thought that she never deserved any of it. Nevertheless, neither did I speak of the Corny brothers, nor did I speak of Nova that night. I liked to hear her speak more, so I let her speak her heart out. To the 'only ears that she relied on to listen to her'.

The school organized a workshop the next day. What it talked about, I failed to collect. I had not known it even before I willing stepped inside the auditorium. It was, for me, like for most, a method to escape the classroom. Though, it would be a lie to say it did not contain ulterior motives.

When I entered the auditorium, I looked around once. Then I noticed Nova and took a seat beside him. It was the ulterior motive.

He did not seem to mind who sat beside him, perhaps because the presentation had already begun. Otherwise, he was too much of a 'goody-two shoes' to ignore anyone. When I thought of it, I did not think it up with disdain.

Sometime during the presentation--on financial management--I saw him peer at me through the periphery of my eye. He observed me and then jotted something down.

"Hi, Nova." It was not a whisper, but my sound was barely audible.

"Hello, Alex." He was using his courteous tone.

Should I ask him what I wanted to? The thought slid past like a vague dream. What was it that I wanted to ask? If I could not arrange my thoughts enough to question him, how do I expect him to respond?

It was silence amongst us. The knowledge that this time skipped as I wasted away second charred my inside. After a while, he stood up midway through the presentation and hung his bag on his shoulder. He passed the aisle, and had reached the huge entrance door.

I shot from the seat at the realization that I might miss him by the time I make it to the door. He would be long gone. I rushed. Outside, he had been held behind by an organizer, who inquired him as to why he had to leave so abruptly.

"I have been called by one of our professors. Please, I need to leave." Courteous, again.

"And you?" Her eyes through her foggy glasses had dodged to me.

"We have been called together." I lied.

Her eyes skimmed back to Nova, as if asking for a confirmation. My heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, we are." He replied with hard confidence. It made me reconsider if I was actually forgetting something.

I walked behind him passively. There was no point in a conversation now.

I questioned, "Thank you for backing me up there. Why did you leave midway?"

He stopped to look at me. "I had thought that you wanted to speak something. When I realized you will not, I decided to leave."

So his intuition was as good as mine. He had known that I'd be there.

I felt hesitant. It was an unfamiliar feeling. "Want to go somewhere to speak? After school?"

"My parents will be at home today." I heard him speak before he left.

I did not go home directly that day. Something stopped me in the path, as if feeble shrieks reaching out for help. I searched, truly did, but I was alone. It was tearing at my skin with an agonizing terror. I grabbed some dessert for mom on the way.

She had gone to bed even before I was home. I was extremely late, anyway. I kept the box by the side, as I stood hovering over her. I could barely see her black hair and eyes through the blanket.

"Could I talk to you? Or are you asleep?"

She rose up, rubbing her eyes. Her eyes arched to adjust to the light from the hallway.

"I was waiting for you, honey," she said, "but you were so late."

I sat by her side, and clasped my hand. My hands had gone so cold by being in the streets that I hardly felt anything as they pressed against each other.

"I wanted to reach out to someone, but they are just so cold and distant to me. I don't know-"

I stopped. She was studying the little carton I had placed. She was zoned in, and she was thinking.

"Give them their time and space," she spoke, "what else can you do? Don't be too persistent."

As I heard her, I felt her words carried a deeper meaning. Words tarnished with hints of regret and guilt, she too had been too persistent with dad before his death. It never healed anything.

"And don't buy me dessert off your food money."

It was a little more than a week, and concern in me shriveled and crunched. Or it was a fresh fear that blossomed new every day and by a few hours grew stale. It was a little more than a week when I saw him again.

"You wanna talk today?" I asked.

He nodded meekly.