The Bird With One Wing // Klance

Chapter seven • Forgiveness

What I saw was not at all what I expected.

I imagined a shack to be nice and big... so when I heard Lance was lodging away at one, I thought he was managing well on his own without his mom and dad.

But what I thought was wrong. His shack looked like my home in Chimosia... only a lot tighter and more broken. And I never thought i'd see a house more damaged... but here I am standing in front of it. I'm not even sure this was Lance's, but it seemed to be the only shelter closest to the beach.

I parked my bike on the ground near the black cat that nibbled on the bark of the old wood that recently fell from the cracked walls seconds ago. There wasn't a door, so I walked right in, the floor creaking unsteadily and dangerously under my feet. "Uh... Lance?" I called, my eyes wandering around the small room.

Faster than I expected, a figure jumps out from the wide open back door, hands clenching so roughly on a crowbar that his palms went white. He was wearing a tense facial expression. When he sees me, his body softens and he tosses the crowbar aside, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lance it's okay... it's me. Keith!" I smiled in hopes of him smiling as well.

"Did my father send you?" He spoke, arms crossed indignantly and deep tone suggesting all seriousness.

"Ah... no. I want to see you and uh... apologize for the halloween night" I half-lied, my voice trembling a bit and afraid of how he would react. "Are you okay? I heard what happened."

"Fine" he gave me a one word answer and patted on the floor so I could sit with him. Sitting on the floor without a sofa reminded me of the good old days. I missed it a lot. With daddy making us breakfast, mommy telling made up stories and the family cracking small jokes and inviting some neighbors to feast with us.

But now it's just Lance on the floor across from me. The room felt cold and we all knew what that meant. Lance however, was wearing a white short sleeved button up, as if the temperature didn't bother him. But for me, my skin wasn't thick, so I brought my arms from my sleeves and inside my casual sweater, hugging them for warmth.

Neither of us spoke for a moment there. Lance was staring at the floor in despondency and I knew the reason why. Going back to school tomorrow will be tough, no doubt. Flowers everywhere, safety posters, memorial assembly. I knew all this from past experiences. When my family lived in Bulgaria temporarily, a freshman student I didn't know committed suicide the other night. And the day after, everyone was silent and respectful to one another. Even the bullies decided not to pick on me on a day utterly depressing. It was like a day long funeral that lasted weeks.

When Lance started to cry, I inched closer to him, then sitting besides him instead of across. He rested his head on my shoulder, him being a silent waterfall and his body shaking slightly next to mine. As long as I wanted to stay here to comfort him, I couldn't. Something inside me wanted to go home before I mess things up and get distracted all over again.

"Lance..." I mumbled as his warm body moved slightly next to my cold skinny one. "Don't stress too much about it. It happened. It's over."

"I'm not *hic* crying about the *hic* shooting..." he lifts his head and turned to face me with his red puffy face. I felt myself get struck with dismay since he wasn't happy. My feelings connected a bit to his. I just wanted him to smile and i'd do anything for that to happen. "My dad probably hates me... I hate my mom... I have nowhere to go."

"Your dad don't hate you" I spoke, accidentally messing up my grammar. "He still loves you even though you were unfair to him. It's what dads are for... well... some dads."