Death Has Wings

Childhood Friends

I was sat in my father's office, studying him up and down. He hadn't changed one single bit since he left. He still had that small scar underneath his ear which he had gotten from falling off my bike when I was seven. I smiled as I remembered that day.

"So, Clark, you think that I'm your dad?" He didn't seem as happy as he did before.

"Yes." I didn't need to say it twice. He smiled and closed his eyes.

"What proof do you have?" He opened his eyes and stared at me.

"You have the scar underneath your ear. You got that when you fell of my bike when I was seven."

"Is that all?" He raised his eyebrow. It was a bad habit. I needed to tell him.

"No. You have this bad habit of raising your eyebrow when you ask a question but mean it to be sarcastic."

"I think every-"

"No. Not everyone does it, father. I know it's you. Don't lie to me. I can see through your lies. Just like I did when you-"

"Enough." Father's voice was low.

"Touched a nerve, have I?" I smiled.

"I said enough." He was getting louder.

"You-"

"Enough! Get out. Now." He didn't look up from his hands. I didn't need telling again. I got out of the chair and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me for effect. I wanted to make him think that he had made me upset.

I walked outside and sat on a bench. The playground was empty, except for birds and rubbish. I smiled. Father didn't want me to remind him of Jessica. His mistress.

He had kept her for three years, two of them he kept a secret from mother. Not from me though. I knew that he was cheating on mother with Jessica. The signs were there. Not coming home until early hours of the morning, changing subjects as soon as they fell on what he was doing, deleting messages, erasing phone calls. Then there were the not so obvious signs that no-one but me picked up on. Spending more time with me, leaving just five minutes earlier to go to work, coming home smelling like sex and sweat. Mother's sense of smell was never good enough to pick up on that. Father had also mixed up mother and Jessica's names once or twice. The excuses he came up with were worse than mine when I tried to explain why there was a dead cat in the bath.

When mother found out about Jessica, she broke down. Right in the middle of dinner. She started to cry hysterically, calling father a 'lying, cheating bastard'. I was four so I didn't know what 'bastard' meant, only that it was a bad word. Mother had stormed out of the house, leaving me and father alone. I don't remember much after that, apart from that mother came back three hours later to apologise to us both and scold father.

"I heard about what happened to your mother." A familiar voice broke me from my trance. I looked up and my eyes met the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Alice Hunter. She was my friend in every school I went to, since she had gotten expelled with me. Her eyes were the perfect shade of green, almost like emeralds. You could get lost in them easily. I cleared my throat and stood up.

"Yes. She died. It's no big deal really." I smiled. Alice was back. My one true friend. Well, besides Grandma. Alice understood me, she understood my way of speaking, the way my mind works and the way I see other people.

"It is a big deal, Clark. Your mother is dead. If anyone else was in this situation, they wouldn't be smiling. They'd be broken." She acted as if speaking to a five year old. I forgot that she also filled me in on what other people would think or say. It gets annoying sometimes.

"I'm not anyone else, am I? I'm me. Fucked up mind to go with a fucked up life." I couldn't help smiling. Alice was here. She made me happy whenever she was around.

She stepped towards me and grasped my hands. "Your mind isn't fucked up. It's just different from most people's. As for your life," She sighed and stared into my eyes. "It's pretty fucked up to be honest." She giggled. It sent butterflies through my stomach.

"So, what're you doing here?" We started to walk towards the lunch hall, since it was nearly lunch.

"I go to every school you do, remember. We made a pact to stick together." She stopped and looked at me. "We made it in primary school and we've kept it ever since." She studied my face for any sign whatsoever. I didn't give her any. I didn't want her to know what I felt.

"I remember. It was the first day we went to school, right?"

"Yeah." She stared into my eyes again, willing me to fall into their bottomless depths. I wrenched myself away. "Clark? Are you okay? You seem...troubled." I laughed.

"Troubled? Of course I'm troubled. My mother is dead, my father is the head of the school, John is gone and I'm torn between two girls."