THE PERFECTION: POOL OF BLOOD

CHAPTER 3

Growing up, every Sunday was the same routine. I would wake up early in the morning to get ready for church, then head out to meet Aunt Mary Lou, who was already dressed in her finest attire. We would walk down the road together, hand in hand, until we reached the church. Once inside, we would sit in the same pew every week, and I would listen intently as the preacher spoke about God and all the miracles He had performed.

But as I got older, I found myself less interested in going to church. I would make excuses to Aunt Mary Lou, saying I had too much homework or that I was too tired to attend. Aunt Mary Lou would always try to convince me to come, saying that it was important to keep God in my heart and that attending church would keep me on the right path.

Despite her efforts, my attendance at church dwindled as time went on. Aunt Mary Lou would still attend, but I would find excuses to stay home and do other things. It wasn't that I didn't believe in God, but I just couldn't seem to find the same passion that Aunt Mary Lou had for Him.

As I spent less time with Daliah, I found myself becoming closer to Reginal. Reggie and I would do some terrible things as we grew up, but to Aunt Mary, I was still her golden child. I didn't want to disappoint her, so I would keep my mischievous behavior a secret.

We would throw big rocks into passing vehicles and stone houses with rocks during Halloween. It was all in good fun, or so we thought. We were just bored and looking for something to do.

Aunt Mary Lou never found out about our misdeeds, as she was always preoccupied with her friend, Old Lady Margaret, who lived across the lane. They would sit and sew, gossiping about all the latest news and rumors. I would often sneak out of the house while they were chatting away, heading off to hang out with Reggie.

All through the years, this routine would remain the same. But everything changed when I turned thirteen. It was the year Old Lady Margaret died, and Aunt Mary Lou suddenly had a lot more free time on her hands.

One day, as I was walking home from school, I noticed Aunt Mary Lou sitting outside on the porch, a look of sadness etched onto her face. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that Old Lady Margaret had passed away in her sleep the night before.

Aunt Mary Lou had lost her closest friend, and I could see the pain in her eyes. She talked about how much she would miss Old Lady Margaret's company and how much they had shared over the years. It was the first time I had seen Aunt Mary Lou so vulnerable.

It had been a few weeks since Aunt Mary's friend had passed away, and I found myself spending more and more time with her. Reggie would often come over, and we would play in the backyard while Aunt Mary sewed in the porch. It was a routine that we quickly got used to. Aunt Mary would sit on the porch, her sewing machine humming along, and we would run around the backyard, playing games and making up stories.

Every now and then, Mrs Queen, our neighbour, would stop by with some homemade buns for Aunt Mary. She was always grateful for Mrs Queen's kindness and would thank her every time she brought something over. "Thank you so much, Mrs Queen," Aunt Mary would say, her voice soft and gentle. "You always know just how to make me feel better."

When Mrs Queen would leave, Aunt Mary would call us in. "Come on, you two," she would say, her voice warm and inviting. "Let's have a little snack." We would come rushing through the door, our eyes wide with excitement. We knew that Aunt Mary's baking was always delicious, but there was something about Mrs Queen's buns that made them even more special.

As we sat at the table, munching on our buns, Aunt Mary would always notice Reggie's coldness. He would sit there, his eyes fixed on the bun in front of him, not saying a word. Aunt Mary would try to engage him in conversation, but he would just shrug or nod his head. She paid no mind to it, but I was fascinated by his demeanor.

After we finished our snacks, Reggie and I would run back outside to continue our games. I was grateful to have made a best friend, and I was certain that our friendship would last a lifetime.

One day, after a long and tiring day at school, my friend Reggie and I were walking home when we came across a stray dog. The dog was limping and looked like it needed help. I could see the sadness in Reggie's eyes as he looked at the dog. We both knew we had to help it. But then, something else crossed our minds.

As we looked at each other, we both shared the same mischievous plan. We called the dog closer to us, pretending that we were going to pet it. But as soon as it got close enough, we both jumped on it, holding it down tightly. Then, we began to kick it, throw rocks at it and beat it with sticks. The dog cried out in pain, but we didn't stop. We were consumed with a strange excitement that we couldn't explain.

Little did we know that Aunt Mary, who had been watching us from afar, saw everything that we were doing. I didn't see her, but she was there. Her tears fell as she saw the wickedness in our hearts. I didn't know what was going on, but when we arrived at her house, she sent Reggie to his house and took me into her home.

She was a small, old woman, but I had never seen anyone so strong. As soon as we got inside, she bended an iron bar on my back. The pain was unbearable, and I cried out in agony. But Aunt Mary didn't stop. She wanted to teach me a lesson that I would never forget. I was grateful for her discipline, though, as I knew it would make me a better person in the long run.

Later that evening, when Reggie's parents arrived home, Aunt Mary went over to their house. I could hear Reggie's screams filling the neighborhood as they gave him a piece of military punishment. After that incident, I rarely saw Reggie. Every time we crossed paths, our connection never seemed lost, but it was never the same again.

Eventually, Reggie moved away, and I felt torn apart. He was my best friend, and I had lost him forever.