INTERCEPTIONS

Chapter One-Thirty-Three(The Craziest Truth)

Last night, when the storm decelerated its furious velocity, the city of fallen angels hummed its loudest tranquility. Frogs sang in great coherence waiting for their princesses to kiss them, believing to what fairy tales had promised --- a handsome prince cursed by a wicked witch, from the kingdom of far, farther than the ogres’ territory. Girls should try to kiss at least one of them. The water on our shirts had vaporized, and the forsaken streets were already busy as night cars had conquered the wide-ranging highways. Moving forward, we decided to jog near the sidewalk as taxi drivers ignored our hand calls. Anyways, they lost their beloved income.  Syrill was coughing, and I guess colds had overrun his weak immune system. He was shivering he folded his hands and trapped his own breath. The warmth it furnished didn’t improve his feeling, and he was barely embracing his physique.

“You okay?”

The heck. He was burning at the highest degree of Centigrade. My palm had touched his forehead and he was coaling in fever. To the point where I want to be at home, I was setting that aside and instead I escorted him on his own habitat. Assuring his safety, I stole a kiss on him and he felt it; smiling so cute as I wrapped the blanket on him.

“Get well soon.”

Syrill’s mom, Mrs. Theresa had let me used his clothes, including a boxer of which his boy amicably had no objections. I refused her to have some coffee, though her second please took my acceptance. I’m obsessed with caffeine. The five-minute allotment for a break was extended as she dutifully share to me Syrill’s diary, not literally a piece of notebook but his open book, as she scans to me the meaningful pages and ongoing chapters on his life. With no reluctance she cried, and there was great desolation overloading her lungs. When mothers talked about their sons, prepare. You’re in great shame of confession.

The cheek-to-cheek goodbye had ended our conversation, and I was getting tired with the night riding at my back. Looking up the constellations, the first and the most powerful water bender showered her magnificent refraction of light. Trying to look around everywhere, my brother was still unseen.

My family was occupying the dining when I arrived. It’s been almost eleven yet they’re still in the middle of supper. Jenny had missed me with her choking hug, and Albert was probably up on his pajama dreaming on the theory of relativity.

Grace, who was questionably still there on a very late evening, joined the attendance. Sitting beside her, I took a big slice of pizza and drank a glass of wine. Eating what’s plated on the table --- fried chicken, roasted beef, a bowl of pasta and a half-eaten black forest, my mouth cannot accommodate all of it at a time. All of them went inaudible as I let myself merge the feast.

“You wet?”

“The storm. The rain was pouring that hard.”

Mom took a piece of clean towel and wrapped it on my back. My stomach was protesting I let myself feed my hunger, and I never followed her order and prudently decided to change my clothes after eating. I forgot. I already had.

“Ahm Larry, you’re dad has something to tell to you.”

The mellow of her voice was a bit strange, and it made me not comfortable with the night’s setting. Dad was attaching his words, and right after he fully construct the idea, he began the talk. He ripped-off the hesitation and was then out. Mom gave him the courage as she took his hand, and dad tried to continue his speech. That built my predominant cramming state of nervousness. Shocks. What was it?

“Happy birthday.”

Birthday? Birthday. Oh God damn. It’s my birthday? It is! Of all the serious things I was assuming for the past tenths of nanoseconds, Jesus Christ I was having my reincarnation stage. I looked at them with an eyebrow rising in relief. Why serious anyway? They’re driving the turbo so crazy. Nobody reminded me that. Rephrase it. I should have the first to know that. Looking over the calendar, the 4th day of May was preferably the commencement of my existence. Absurdity corked my mouth as I was out of speech to my not so dignified party.