Deserving | ✔

Chapter 26

Have you all heard of the phrase 'calm before storm'? Have you experienced it? If you have, then you'd know what I'm feeling right now. The nerves in my body are vibrating, oscillating even, with the amount of adrenaline that's flowing through it. Not the kind of adrenaline that comes out of adventure, but the kind that emerges out of flight or fright situations.

It has been 30 minutes since we came back to my house. Trisha is cleaning the wounds on my forearm and elbow while I sit there, not twitching in the slightest, watching a frizzy blond haired, green eyed teenager in awe.

How can so much happen in a span of thirty minutes? The big doe eyed, vibrant and smiling face that I saw an hour ago is now on the verge of tears.

How did hell break loose so easily?
***
*An hour ago*

Holding a name card that read 'Tamara Collins', I am standing at the airport, knees almost buckling over in anxiety.

Why, you ask?

I'm meeting my little sister Tamara today. Like right now, today.

And I'm sweating like a pussy.

"Excuse me, Sir? Hello? You there?" Someone waves hands in front of me, pulling me from my thoughts.

I see a young teenager staring at me in confusion. She has frizzy blond hair that was pulled up in a messy pony and minute cute freckles on her face. Her apple green eyes were deep with an intense shade of honey at the iris.

A lightning strikes my mind as I take in my little sister's face. How did I know she was Tamara?

Because she is the spitting image of my mother.

The image of my mother is projected in my mind, and like a painting fresh of varnish, it creates a strong impact. The same apple green eyes, the same left sided dimple, the same frizzy blond hair in a messy bun...

It feels like I'm reconnecting with my mother.

"Ta - Tamara?" I stutter and she smiles widely with a raised eyebrow.

"How did you know?" She asks, her sweet voice sending crazy vibrations in my nerves.

"We all have the same eyes," I say, blinking once to emphasize the apple green eyes I adorn from my mother's genes.

"Plus, I have proof," I open my wallet and show her the picture I have of my mom. Our mom.

Her eyes widen a little more as she takes the wallet from my hands.

"Is that - ?" She couldn't complete the sentence.

"Yes, that's our mother. May March," I say, "Oh, and I am Phillip. Phillip March." I raise my hand out.

"Tamara Collins. You already know it anyways... Just to reconfirm," she says, in a very childishly cute manner and shakes my hand.

I guide her to the parking lot and she silently follows me. I notice she has no luggage with her except a big travel backpack. The kind that adventurers and wildlife travellers have.

"How was the flight?" I ask.

"Great. It was the first time I travelled without Mumma. I mean, without... Um... My biological... No, as in, uh..." She struggles and I smile at her slyness and put her out of her misery by saying, "It's okay. She is your Mumma. You can call her that. She did raise you for 17 years."

She stares at me for a while, quite intensely might I add, and then her face breaks into a big smile. A smile that threw out her anxiety and fear.

"You're right," she says and smiles wider.