Voices in My Head

Chapter 13: Unravel

"Hey, guys do you want something to eat?"

We were interrupted by Emma poking her head in the room. Her supposed hatred of me was a only vaguely noticeable in her voice now. She sure got better at hiding it quickly.

I didn't look up, didn't pay her any attention. I was used to people like that. I read over the history textbook Oliver had. I really didn't bring anything to help (it was hard to remember where my books are and I sure don't keep notes in an organized manner), but Oliver assured me we can just use his stuff.

"Nah, we're good, Emma."

Emma glanced quizzically at her brother as if she couldn't understand what he said but hid that behind a cheerful smile.

"Alright, then. Have fun with your project."

"Thanks, Bye."

The door closed.

Am I the only one who noticed how the cheerful tones they used were fake? There was fear hiding in their voices. I wonder why. Is this family based on lies and secrets? Is this family supposed to be happy all the time?

But anyway, it's not my business. That's their business. My family is not picture perfect either.

"Anyway, moving on," Oliver announced. I was glad that he didn't notice anything was wrong. I rubbed my left wrist.

"I'm not really fond of Romans."

I'm not either. I wrote.

"Huh? Then why did you suggest it?" He wasn't mean, just curious. I was surprised he wasn't agitated yet because he has to keep craning his head down to read what I wrote.

The Romans just reminded me of someone.

Someone brutal and aggressive whose name starts with R.

"Oh, ok." He didn't know what else to say. "So what do you want to do it on?"

I don't know.

A deadpan look on his face. "That's a big help."

Sorry.

He shook his head. "That's fine. I was thinking we could do it on King Henry III."

Who is he?

"He was the king of England during the 1200s. I know, very ancient. But anyway, the guys has his ups and downs. You see, he ..."

And as Oliver kept talking about what this guy did, my mind kept replaying the name Henry.

King Henry. Wars.

Henry. Gang.

Phantom.

That's why his voice sounded so familiar. The mask muffled it a little but I know the voices are the same.

Phantom is Oliver.

I felt my heart drop at this revelation. The first person who accepted me since I went to that school, the first friend I could have had belongs to that accursed gang.

"Didn't you know happy endings only exist in fairy tales?"

Emma came back after we got around half the project done and practically forced her brother to take a snack break. I joined them.

Well, more like forced, the little brother (Arthur I think his name was) grabbed my hand and immediately wanted to show me around. He brought me to his room, pointing out everything he had.

(With Emma watching us ---more like me--- like a hawk. Like she was afraid I was going to hurt a little kid. I get I have problems. I'm a troublemaker. But how low do people think I am? That I would actually hurt a kid?)

Arthur introduced me to his stuffed animals collection. There was Mr. Snuggles, Bear-Bear, and Little Froggie. Showed me how to play with toy cars the correct way (with lots and lots of sound effects).

I didn't even get the chance to talk (not that I would) in his excited chattering. I should've been annoyed, irritated even that this little kid keeps invading my personal space.

But I wasn't.

I think it might be because he reminds me of the twins, of the siblings I could've cared for and loved if it wasn't for Ryan's view of me.

Kids live in a state of ignorant bliss. Being naive protects them from knowing what the world really is. Their pure innocence and way of simple thinking. The sparkle in their eyes when they discover something new. No worries. No fears. They're open and honest. The way they just say whatever is on their minds is both shocking and admiring to a burning liar like me.

Finished with showing me everything he owned, Arthur led me to the table in the dining area where Oliver was already sitting and Emma brought out a tray of drinks for all of us.

She smiled apologetically at me as she sat down. "Sorry, Artie knows to not bother Olly when he's doing schoolwork, but since it's snack time, he just...he loves meeting new people and showing them his stuff."

I shook my head and wrote down on a napkin.

It's fine. I don't mind.

She told Arthur to go wash his hands. Then, Oliver guided Artie to sit next to him with Emma on the far end of the table. It was almost like he was blocking his siblings from me, like I was threat.

But that couldn't be true. Could it?

He accepted my strange way of communicating, didn't even get angry that I preferred to write down what I wanted to say.

But then again, there is that small part of him being Phantom.

No. I force myself to not think anything negative. Oliver showed me kindness. And Phantom didn't seem all that bad judging by how he distanced himself from the gang, like he didn't want to be associated with them, despite being an elite member. There must be a reason why he sat there. Maybe he was a really overprotective brother.

Yeah, that sounds right.

I ate a few crackers, quiet as I watched the siblings interact. Oliver and Emma talked about random things and bickered like normal siblings.

I wasn't bothered by the looks of distrust Emma sent my way. By now, I just figure I somehow did something wrong which I seem to be pretty good at. I didn't let it get my spirits down. I dealt with way worse, and I was pretty much used to it at school. I just wished I had my headphones with me now, to distract me from the attention. Being used to something doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it or I like it.

I was surprised, though, to see Emma giving Oliver strange looks as if he was acting weird was strange to me. I didn't know why or how he was weird (not that I'm the most reliable source for that; I don't know the guy well enough). Arthur was playing with his food, building stuff out of the variety of snacks laid out, occasionally eating something and talking to me which I nodded absentmindedly, discreetly watching Oliver.

Who only confirmed my worst fears. I really did wish my thoughts weren't true. But it seems the universe has some kind of vendetta against me, loving to tear away any hope I have right when I think I can achieve some happiness.

I caught Oliver glancing fearfully at me every few minutes. When he would speak, there was a slight tremble in his voice, almost as if he was afraid. He tried to look relaxed, but I knew he was on guard.

And it was all because of me.

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Did you really think people like you? You good for nothing trash."

"Heh. That's wrong. You're even less than trash."

That's right, isn't it?

I looked down at my food and didn't feel hungry anymore. All feelings of happiness left me.

"You are a murderer. You killed them. You don't deserve any friends. You don't deserve anyone."

I felt numb again.