Mirrored Exile (HS)

forty nine

chapter forty nine - california
(play song at the !!)

Lucy Caddel

My Uncle always talked about the times he and my Aunt visited Europe. Mainly Germany because that's where he was from. He travelled a lot to the UK too and always talked about how he never liked the weather there, specifically when it was Spring. The weeks of pouring rain and overcast skies. He said going to the UK without an umbrella or raincoat was like going into a gun war with only a knife.

That's how I felt when I walked into that diner. With Harry held up against the wall, blood running down his cheek and out of his nose, and the yelling of onlookers around. It wasn't my war to walk into, nor was it Harry's. I believed that war belonged to someone else. It started from someone else and we had just stumbled into it. They were the rain clouds and we were the ones without umbrellas. But as soon as that lightning comes into play, an umbrella is completely useless once you're struck.

The train ride felt slower which was fueled by the fact Harry didn't really want to talk. I can see why he's upset — or is trying to hide that at least, but I still wished he took into consideration that I was here for him. He's done a lot for me already so I felt like I owed him a whole lot.

As the train pulled into the station, Harry stood up instantly, not waiting for me to follow. I wasted no time to quickly catch up, wondering what was wrong. He didn't say anything as we walked side by side to where he parked the car. Thankfully, it wasn't as cold as Bakersfield because we weren't close to the mountains. He unlocked the car and started the engine, driving down the busy, city road that was lined with much clearer street lights.

The car ride was filled with tension and no words were spoken, just like the entire train ride. During it, we still sat close for warmth, but not as close as we did on the way there. I gave him space and I wanted him to come to me instead of it being the other way around, but he never did. My plan for when we reached the villa was to use that CD player to play the one that I stole and tucked into my waistband.

Harry drove the car up the driveway and killed the engine. He had finally said something as we walked to the front door. "I'll be in my room if you need me. Goodnight." His voice was still as hoarse as earlier. The guy who held his throat up against that wall must've really done some damage.

His words took me aback. "Oh, goodnight." I watched him walk away, his shoulders slumped.  He was hurt, both physically and emotionally, but I didn't know how to reach him. I told myself to stay put and give him the space he clearly wanted, but how was I supposed to do that?

It was a tossed-up moment between my unclear mind and conscious heart. He didn't need to prove that he wasn't hurt. Any normal person would be hurt in this situation, he just doesn't think that. This is his normal.

With a sigh and a loss as to what to do now, I went to the living and sat on the smooth rug adjacent to the CD player. I slid the disc out of my waistband. I took more notice of the dust and scratches on it so I wiped it on the fabric of my shirt.

As the damaged CD slides into the slot, it takes a minute to register and read the disc to play. At first, it's static and unclear but eventually, it fades into a familiar melody.

A soft, melancholic violin sound fills the room with its haunting strings. I lean back on the sofa, closing my eyes as I let the music wash over my raging thoughts.

(A sound clip for the CD)