On Purpose

~19~

As I sit here in my room, I can hear a multitude of sounds all around me. The ticking of the clock on my desk, the steady hum of the heater blowing warm air through the vents, and the constant whoosh of cars zooming past on the street outside. But amidst all these sounds, there's another that stands out - the loud, persistent chirping of a bird perched in a tree just outside my window. At first, it was a pleasant addition to the soundscape, but as the minutes tick by and the bird shows no sign of stopping, I find myself growing increasingly irritated. It's as if the bird is purposely trying to annoy me, and I can't help but admit that it's working.
I grip the pillow my head was resting on and take it with me as I roll to my side and cover my ears, but it's useless, the chirping drove me crazy.
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
With each chirp, I found myself sinking the pillow deeper against my ear, anger boiling inside me. Call me crazy, but it was like the chirping was mocking me.
Chirp-stupid-chirp-idiot-chirp-asshole-chirp-egotistical integrate.
I despised every single moment of it. The incessant chirping of the bird outside my window was driving me insane. I tried to convince myself to move to a different room to escape the sound, but the very thought of doing so only intensified my anger. Why should I have to leave my own space just because of a silly bird that wasn't even within my four walls? It was frustrating beyond belief.
As I lay in my room, lost in my thoughts, I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed since I last heard from my dad. Was it just yesterday, or has it been weeks, maybe even months? But then I quickly dismissed the latter thought, knowing that my dad would never go a month without talking to me. The more I thought about it, the more my mind raced, churning out endless scenarios and possible reasons for his silence. I tried to quiet my thoughts, but it seemed impossible. They just kept running and chirping, refusing to give me any peace.
I sat up, and suddenly, like a switch, the chirping stopped. It was gone. Na-da, zip, pow.
I turned my head towards the window, which was right beside my bed. I was going to check if the bird was still there, but instead, I got up and walked towards my door, and down the hallway. I knew I looked terrible; my hair was messy, I had bad breath, and I needed a shower.
I had no idea where I was headed, so I paced around the living room, mindlessly eating a bag of chips. I thought about reaching out to Isabelle, but I was worried she might hate me now.
I checked my phone and realized it was already two in the afternoon on January 5th. I had been home alone for two days, listening to a bird that wouldn't stop chirping.
I heard a loud knocking sound on my front door. Even though I wanted to ignore it, I realized that it had been two days since I had last spoken to another human being. I knew I needed to answer the door. Without hesitation, I ran to the door and opened it. Despite leaving Isabelle and not shedding a tear, I sure as hell was gonna sob right there when I saw Kyle.
"Hey, I ran into your dad at Kiwk Star, your stepmom is smoking hot dude. How old is she? Forty?"
I hugged the life out of him.
"Thanks for the warm welcome, but it's colder than God's nipples out here and you smell like you've been living in a shed full of skunks."
I released him with a smile on my face. It felt like years since I had smiled like that.
Stepping aside, I let him in. He entered, his content smile surveying the surroundings.
Closing the door, a wave of nervousness washed over me. I ascended the stairs and stole a backward glance at him.
"Stay, I'll go shower."
"Yeah, please do."
I expressed my disapproval of his comment and proceeded upstairs. I felt satisfied and rejuvenated. After quickly showering and brushing my teeth, I hurried downstairs. He was casually sipping his soda from a Kwik Star cup and only acknowledged my presence when I cleared my throat.
"My bad, you smell better, much better. I was gonna tell you to take a potato bath."
"It's tomato."
He glanced at me with an irritated expression and dismissively disregarded my words.
"Same thing, now come here, we need to talk."
Normally, such news would evoke fear inside of me, but I was eager to receive any updates he had to share, whether they were good, bad, sorrowful, or joyful.
I sat beside him on the couch and looked at him like he had a rainbow coming out of his butt.
"So, you remember when I told you my wife was pregnant?"
I remain silent, allowing him time to continue, as the word "yes" was meaningless. He was aware that I remembered.
"Don't get mad."
I wanted to express my confusion by asking, "Why would I get mad?" However, before I could utter a word, he interrupted me. His words cut through the air, leaving me momentarily speechless. "She was never pregnant. She lied."