Twisted Legacy

[04]

Avery.

I am out here burning bridges and it is the least of my worries.

I get it, I blacked out.

So what? Doesn't everyone?

It goes without saying that indulging in too much alcohol could lead to one. Paula and Tristan have been on my case ever since that day.

Okay, there is that scenario from two weeks ago.

Still, it did not give them the leeway to walk on eggshells around me.

I cannot stress enough how important it is that they find a balance between caring and understanding.

They have to allow me the space to express myself and navigate my own emotions. I appreciate that Paula has been on my side for as long as I can remember but they have to let me feel normal.

They don't think I am, I know. Normal is relative to everyone, that is what I think. Bringing into consideration so many aspects, but they are not ready for that conversation.

Anyway, today is my Grandma's anniversary and I was not in the mood to deal with their antics. It had been quite long since that dreadful day that I got accustomed to referring to my great grandma as my grandma.

Nine years if we're being specific. I am not sure you have noticed but I haven't let her death go yet. Grief is a sneaky little bitch.

Makes me wonder though, what is it about her that had me so gone?

Once again, don't get me wrong.

She is family, and I loved her. I still do, I guess.

Not that it matters whether or not I do. I am not sure what to think anymore.

Life was not all rosy when she was around, but it is the good memories we hold on to.

Who am I kidding?

Painful memories leave scars that remind us about the events we want to bury deep down.

That aside, a little birdie told me that writing her a poem would go a long way in helping me let her go.

I took their word for it.

Way to go.

"Avery?"

There goes Paula, again.

"It's time to go, hurry up!"

On a scale of one to reluctant, I was resistant, unwilling, unenthusiastic, averse!

You name it.

Not ready for a lecture about spirits and what not, I had to oblige.

Clearly, I was not a wherever-you-are or if-you-can-hear-me type of person. No offence to anyone who is.

But, what do you mean you are talking to someone who has no capacity to breath the same air you are?

What a waste of valuable time.

* * *

White noise.

That is what Tristan said to view Paul's words as.

I had a better chance at making it in life by listening to it than I would listening to Paul. That much I agree.

What I was completely not in terms with was the fact that Paul had been sounding like he is auditioning to be a shrink and motivational speaker at the same time. Where he got the idea that I was hiring, I had no idea.

Paul had a broken mind, that goes without saying. I mean, he has bullied me since I could walk.

The level of enthusiasm he portrayed relaying the information that both my parents left this world the same day I was brought into it is uncanny.

That was one of the itty bitty evidences that there is something fundamentally wrong with him as a person. I do not know much about y'all normal people, but crossing some lines qualifies as a universal symptom for insanity.

Where he got the idea that bullies can warm up to their victims after a supposed awakening I did not know.

What I do know is that when the signs are blaring red, that was a chance to pull a one over your bullies. He had it coming. I had no idea what I was up against but, the only incentive I needed was knowing that Paul was the one I would be  pointing the gun at.

He would be on the receiving end. That was enough fuel to last me a lifetime.

Fucking Christmas.

The poem I was supposed to read at the grave –I know, desperate times– I did away with.

Instead, I chose to speak in the presence of everyone.

In my mind, it was a ticking bomb, and it would explode the one person I could not bear existing in the same world with.

But to them, it was a cry for help. That they had finally gotten through to me.

That I was on the verge of a breakdown, and I needed them. They had been waiting for this moment their whole lives. I mean, no normal person, would spew words similar to the ones I was enthusiastically blabbering in a cemetery, on such an occasion.

We have been through this though. They all have it in their heads that normal is not for me. They could have been more supportive. 

I took in a long breath, brought tears to my eyes and hysterically gave my speech. I would have fainted but that would be too generous of me.

Every word was an arrow, aimed at none other than the devil's agent.

He took everyone one of them gracefully, I would give him that.

But he twitched, and that was the only gate pass I needed.

* * *

"Hey, hey, hey it is not your fault." Paula said, fighting tears.

I chose the most unrealistic thing to cry about.

I do not know what it feels like to be blamed for the death of your parent(s), at least not as much as Tyrion.

But I do know that that is not the type of pain I would want to carry around.

No one has ever blamed me for it, but someone on the verge of a mental breakdown would blame themselves.

We always find things to blame ourselves for.

"You had no control over that Avery." Paula said handing me a napkin.

My phone chimed with a text the same time I eyed the box in the dustbin.

I was waiting for a confirmation about something I had requested Will to check up for me.

"Paula, I need some alone time with my thoughts if you don't mind." I said with my face in my pillow.

I had adjusted my sleeping position to give Paula a hint that I want to be alone but she did not catch on to it.

Or maybe she pretended not to.

"I would like a smoothie too." I said quietly.

I have never done that before. I mean, I have functional legs and hands and I did not need a map to the kitchen.

She is my grandma's nurse as well as my nanny or sum' like that. But I have always seen her as more than that. No one my age needs a nanny anyway.

I locked the door immediately she left, and leaped to the dustbin. Curiosity has always been my weakness. If it qualifies as one.

My prediction about what was in the box, was spot on. Incredible, I thought.

With a smile on my fast I fist bumped the air.

Let the games begin!!

Thoughts?

See ya in the next chapter!

Love, Q.