Chapter Two: The Blue Eyed Best Man
The sky has gone to an awful familiar black and I knew I have to get home soon. It has always been like this. I’m scared of the night and the horror it brings after that incident. It would be the first snow soon. That means that day is also near. I hailed a cab and went straight home after having a lively chat with old man Pat down the café.
I clenched my high collar as I felt my hearts fluttering beat. The weather is a bit cold than usual so I zipped my leather jacket and leaned back on the car seat with my hands clasped on my lap. I looked at the window and admired the city lights.
I hastily went inside the house and as soon as I did. I whispered, “I’m home.” I know it might be a habit fit for a lunatic but it’s the only way that gets me through the night. I will have a tough week this year. I’m running out of things to do this time of the year. I could just get over it and just spend a day but doing that means that I don’t care anymore.
I care, I still do. I hung my jacket on the rack beside the doorway and as I passed the hallway towards the living room, I saw my reflection in the mirror on the wall. I couldn’t bear to look at myself that long. It reminds me of them. I have my mother’s amber eyes and her slightly tanned complexion, all thanks to her Italian heritage and my father’s towering height and dimpled cheeks. It pains me to stare at myself and see them. Should I be happy that somehow they are living in me? How could I be happy of the remembrance of what I lost? What satisfies me is looking at my scars. At least, let me bear the marks of suffering in my body.
I headed towards the living room and curled on the couch. Lighting flashed and thunder echoed along with the heavy drops of the rain. The typical clear view of the city lights is now blurred by the unforgiving rain. I sighed and went straight to the kitchen to make dinner. I looked into the fridge to see what ingredients are available. I was hoping for a good meal but I think I’ll just reheat the leftovers from last night as there was no more stock in the fridge.
I forgot that I was supposed to go the grocery store this day. I proceeded to put the left over lasagna in the microwave. I leaned on the kitchen sink and focused my attention in listening to the raindrops that are hitting the roof. I heard the ding and it means that my food is ready. I absentmindedly touched the pan without a mitten and as a result, I felt the throbbing pain in my index finger. I just shrugged and wore the mitten on the countertop and set it in the table. I know I’ve just been burnt and all but a flush of old water can be the remedy. I poured wine from my father’s vast collection into a small glass and then, here it is, my dinner.
I woke up with the sound of the birds chirping near my window. Another day has come and I have to face it. I glanced at the red digital numbers in my clock and it read 8:43 AM. I immediately sat upright and rushed to the bathroom to take a bath.
I’m running late already. I didn’t have time to fix myself so I just threw in my turtle neck shirt, jeans, boots and as usual, my black leather jacket. I bit my hair tie and rushed towards the doorway. I am definitely having a bad hair day. I just groaned in frustration as I gave up fixing it and just tying it in a high ponytail as I walked fast towards the studio. We’re going to cover for a wedding and I wasn’t able to get the details about it.
I stopped walking when I realized I haven’t been able to visit Mrs. Myers yesterday in the hospital. I felt bad but surely she would be surrounded by her family especially her nephews and nieces. Mi phone rang and I clumsily answered it. “Hello?” I greeted. “Where the hell are you Althea Iris Carter?” a loud voice boomed that I have to put the phone an inch away from my ear. “Geez, Relax Danny!” I shushed him. “I’ll go meet you in the church okay?” I continued.
