Hidden Memories

XI. Numbness

Freia's POV

"You didn't tell me that your father is the headmaster of this school," Karl spoke up from his textbook. He tossed it to the table and placed his eyes on me.

"I never did," I said simply. Not really wanting to talk about this while I read a very dramatic part of the book. We were in the library after the morning session, resting before we would hang with the others at Shop Town.

"Am I really your friend?"

"You never proved to be my friend." Which was true.

"Do you know how hurtful you can be? In words and action?"

"I know." I was always aware of that.

"And you never cared about me?" I closed my book at that.

"You can be blind sometimes," I said as I blankly stared at him, irritation started to slowly show on my face. "Have you forgotten the times you cried on my shoulders? Are you making me feel like I wasted my time on you?"

"Four years, and you never told me anything. Four years, Freia," he emphasized. "I feel like I don't even know you. All these talks about you being in a car crash, then have amnesia-"

"Who told you that?" I cut in. My head started replaying the scenes I told people what happened to me before I met them. I only told Alex and Kat, but the people who knew before them were my foster parents.

"Clarence and Dan told us."

"How the fuck did they-"

"Did Alex know?" His eyes were a mix of anger and sadness. I laid back behind my chair, my eyes staring at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I spent with her.

"She knows everything about me."

"What about Kat?"

"Same answer."

"And you never told me?"

"How can I tell you anything when you always talk about yourself?"

"Well, I'm listening now."

"Yes. Now. You always whined about practically everything, Kael." My eyes were back on him. "It gotten worse after her... her death. Your parents were worried about you and I had to take care of you-"

"Keep bringing them up and I'll flip this table," he threatened. His hands were at the edge of the table, holding it from beneath. I placed my bag on the floor that was previously on the table and my book on my lap.

"I know that you're still struggling, and you thought that I was not able to keep an eye on you. So you jumped to another girl-"

"Stop it."

"Kael, she was my bestfriend, my sister, my fa-"

"You don't know how it feels like. You don't have dead parents or any siblings. You're an only child. You have not seen death right in front of you." He rambled on as he stood up and gathered his things. "You'll never be able to feel what I feel."

If he was any other person that said these things, I would laugh right at their faces and leave. But this is Kael, my only friend. So, I stayed and watched him.

He left with his feet stomping out of the aisle with his things. I sighed, my eyes resting on the wooden table, my hands picking on the dead skin that was straying on my thumb. My head started to cloud with every memory I had with the Jacksons.

Alex, her bright smile that I always looked forward to. Mrs. Jackson, her insistent pleas of calling her her first name, Anna, since she was practically a mother figure to me. Mr. Jackson, Henry, a jolly man, always feeding me with treats that he baked with his family. Kael, the boy who's always wanted to go out with his friends to play basketball rather than staying and talk with me and Anna.