Emergent

Chapter Three

I haven't decided yet whether my parents would be proud or mortified by my decision. Maybe a mixture of both. My mom would understand more than anyone. I wish she was here to help me. I wish everyone was here with me.

Sadly one decision changed my connections with them forever. I could go back, but could I be forgiven? Who would forgive me, after staging my death and abandoning them?

But people have. Amar, Evelyn, George Wu, all staged their death. All were forgiven, in one way or another.

I shake off my day dream. Foolish. Those people left when their loved ones didn't really need them. For reasons beyond compare. I left when I was needed most. On my own. And for that, there is no way I can be forgiven.

Right?

I can tell myself as much as I can that I did the right thing, but how can you tell thyself that when you're aware of your doing? That you, as in you, broke hearts? Caused tears?

The worst part is, I have a brief knowing of what goes on, but not much. What if they didn't cry? What if my "death" was a relief to them? I'm not sure which I would be able to handle.

I am completely drawn from my thoughts when the door bell rings. I stand in the same spot for a moment, stunned. Not many people come to my door, so the doorbell very rarely rings. I'm wary when it does. I slowly creep to the front door and peek out the side window. A tall man, who looks around my age, stands there with a delivery package. Most likely from Cara, but it hasn't been six months since my last stack of clothes and I had my food shipment of the week. What is it then? It is best to wait for now. I am about to pull from the window and pretend I'm not home when his green eyes find mine.

I walk to the door, hold my breath and cautiously open it. I look up at the figure and hold my breath. There, not four feet from me, stands my brother Caleb.