Eternally, I Do

Chapter 7: Hide and Seek

When I was younger, I loved playing hide and seek.

The thrill of the game was just as exhilarating even by hiding in that single spot for hours. I loved the game of predatory as I watch my seeker looked high and low for me, never so close, but also never so far from my hiding spot. And yet, I was not found. It was so funny. Watching the seeker as I hid behind a bush. He never seemed to know my hiding spot. I often find myself stifling my laughter from looking at the hilarious sight.

It was also heart-wrenching, my heart pounding against my chest as I sensed his presence coming closer... and closer... and closer... until the wind picked up speed and a rustle whispered by, distracting the seeker’s attention to another nearby bush. He would slip away and I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

And just as the seeker walked away, I would remember myself giving up because I was too hungry for tacos that my stomach could bear no longer.

I remembered a favourite hiding spot of mine was an old church which used to be a monastery hidden in the dark, dark woods of Cleavon Town. Even after three hundred years of history, it was still a place of holy reverence with grey stones and well-kept grounds. I still go there and whenever I do, I could sometimes hear the sounds of a service from the inside, soft murmuring and chanting.

When I was nine-years-old, I used to hide underneath the stone-framed windows, my feet pressed into the scratchy ground. I would listen to hundreds of haunting voices. The hum of the monks’ soft tones would echo out into the field, sending a vibration through my chest.

Once, my father had told me that the light from the old monastery was the most beautiful light in the world. “Candlelight,” he had whispered into my ear where Mummy couldn’t hear him, “is human’s beacon to God. A little piece of God on earth.”

I had believed him.

And even if I thought about it right now, I could find no reason or excuse that the fact was a bluff.

“Hand me the litmus paper.”

I stopped, Kishon’s voice snapping me out of my reverie.

His tone was icy. I swallowed, unnerved by his silence, obviously not used to this side of him. I noticed that his wrist and knuckles were wrapped in white gauze. He gripped his textbook and his knee bounced up and down, trembling from either excitement, rage or possibly too much caffeine.

I faked a move to fix my fringe (if there was in the first place), craning my neck subtlety to catch a glimpse of his face. Beneath those purple and black bruises were the green eyes I’d known and had a crush on for half a millennium (not really). My eyes widen in shock at what could he possibly had done. A fight? Most probably. But for a person like Kishon, unlikely.

I froze when he looked up.

My stomach knotted and I took a shallow breath. We did not break out stare and his gaze lingered on mine long enough to make my head spin. Much to my confusion, he sighed and closed his eyes, breaking the spell.

Immediately, I felt my cheeks burning and returned to my work, flustered with what had happened.

“Let’s get to today’s plan. We’ll review some basics,” the teacher called the class to order. “You may call me Mr Caspar and yes, I am new. So I expect all of you to live up to my expectations.”

Kishon stared forward purposefully. The aching in my gut surprised me. Why wouldn’t he talk to me? Why wouldn’t he even look at me? Kishon was never like this. Even in his fits of temper and frustrations.

He’s hiding something...

I just knew it. But what was he hiding? Why wouldn’t he tell me?