My Classified Life

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Explosion

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The words he spoke to me were too eerily similar to what Dylan used to say to me all the time. His deep, rough voice contrasted against Dylan’s sweet and sarcastic tone. He was older Dylan, a more sophisticated, serious, and something about him told me he was not the man to tell jokes. His weathered and wrinkle-lined face curved upwards awkwardly into a smile as he looked me over. I felt self conscious, like a slide under a microscope he examined me, sizing me up like a circling boxer. And I could tell from his smile, he did not find me worthy of his caliber.

“So very looking forward…” he repeated, voicing his own inner monologue.

Dylan still stood in front of me, poised as my protector, for what reason, I wasn’t sure yet. Behind his father Ariana stood, hands on hips with a crude smile like she’d been waiting for this day, this moment.

The mysterious door opened for a third time, I thought this situation couldn’t get any more confusing. I was DEAD wrong.

The man that had haunted my every nightmare for months, the man whose face in my mind only holds blurry images of an upturned smile of a monster, the man I thought I was rid of, came in and no one seemed to react but me.

My body went rigid, and my feet glued themselves to the floor, my breathing and heartbeat stopped altogether.

He was like his father, built like a rock and having the same short cut hairstyle without the go-t. His eyes were amber, just as I had remembered, such an odd color. In that bright room he appeared to be nothing like the monster that lived inside, his face held no emotion and he didn’t even look at me. Me, whom he had beaten and bloodied, almost kidnapped. He owed me at least an explanation.

And I was going to get one.

I took in a breath and willed by body to speak, every word came out with a high pitched scream, I couldn’t stop the fear from embedding itself into my words. “What is he doing here?” My arm raised itself and my fingers jabbed themselves into his direction, only then did everyone else seem to realize he was even there.

I broke when he looked at me, it was what I’d wanted, after all. Oh, how I wish I could’ve taken my words back.

The tears gathered in the corner of my eyes, I tried so desperately to hold them back. Dylan turned around and ignored his family and attempted to comfort me. He reached out and pulled my still outstretched arm down and wrapped me in a quick embrace.

“It’s okay, shhhh, calm down.” he whispered quietly so only I could hear.

Behind him I could see his father giving us a quizzical look and Ariana was just turning her head back and forth in a ‘I knew it!’ kind of way. The young man still portrayed no emotion as he continued to look at me.

I was embarrassed from crying in front of this people, I made Dylan let go of me and he turned back around again, still standing in front of me. I wiped my tears away and yelled again, my voice still shaky.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Dylan choked back a laugh but I didn’t know what was so funny.

“That,” his father said gesturing to the man, “is my son, Xavier.”

My knees buckled and Dylan had to steady me with my arm, I kept myself from fainting with what strength I had left at that point. No! No! No! This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening. I was dreaming, I was having another nightmare! He could NOT be Dylan’s brother. It wasn’t possible. None of this was real.