FEEL

10. Inerrata

Inerrata ~ feeling unrepentant for a mistake you know you wouldn't take back even if you could.

~ The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows ~

~°~

Even if I didn't get to talk to Mr Pierce today, continuing my streak of avoiding him until I get my head together about what these new feelings for him might mean, I still had a relatively good day today. I know it has entirely to do with Breanna. Of the thought of having a real friend.

She told me that she'd be visiting Dre's house more often so that I could have more opportunities to spend time with her and I acted like I was not absolutely over the moon about it.

It kept me moving all day, like fuel to a car. I moved around smoothly, purposefully. With a sense of direction I never had before. Now that there was this new drive, this goal that I was trying to attain that was not there before. It was just different, in a way I couldn't describe.

Which is why I should have known. The thing about my life is that my day can't be good. I needed something to keep me down, keep me motivated towards death. I couldn't have a good day, it would ruin whosoever's plan to keep me eager to leave the earth. I should have known that if I had a good day at school, something bad would be waiting for me at home. It's how my world has been crafted, to cover my joy with just as much pain.

The moment I walked into the house, everything crashed. I'd felt the damage within me. Not just my heart was striked, but everything that kept me standing. I was weakened on the spot, the once radiant light within me blown out abruptly, without any preparation.

Because on the couch, with a drink in his hand, was my father.

Mama came into view just seconds after I'd noticed him, her eyes wide for a reason I can't quite put together, perhaps due to my shock.

“Aquila,” she says it softly. “You're home early.”

I can't find it in me to reply. My abstracted gaze remains on the abomination sitting on the couch. The one we'd fled from by coming here. The one we'd escaped together, promising never to return. Yet here he was, in our home. Our home. The one he failed to build us so we created our own.

With a swallow, I part my lips to speak, but can't seem to find the words. My heart, I can't feel my heart. “What...” the words come out more like a breath.

Mama takes my hand and leads me in. “Come, let's go speak in my bedroom.”

I follow after her without much protest. How could I when all that filled my body was shock?

She closes the door behind us, then comes to address me. She seems uneasy. “Aquila, your father, he called me a few days ago. He'd lost his job.” She pauses, as if she wants a certain reply from me. A reaction. When I continue to say nothing, she goes on, “I know that things ended badly between us, but I couldn't just abandon him. What kind of person would that make me?”

I'm not even looking at her, I can't. My gaze is over her shoulder as I shake my head. “You promised.”

I don't have to elaborate. She knows what I mean. “If your enemy is hungry, feed him, if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. Do you remember that verse? What it means? It means that we must not harm someone just because they have harmed us. To return evil with good. Your father, what he did hurt me very badly. But I forgave him, and so should you.”

“But why is he here?”

“He needed help—”

“Why here?!”