Chapter Two - Monday Afternoon
Promise me something? Look at the caller ID before you answer the phone.
It had started to pour when I stepped off the bus. The ground around my feet a wet, sloppy puddle engrossing my boots into its little oblivion. I deposited my shit in my room and hung my leather jacket on Harold’s (my suit of armour) arm. I picked up a fluffy white towel and pressed it against my face, inhaling the sweet soapy twang filling my nostrils.
When I was about five, I promised myself I would eat the detergent just so my mouth would taste and smell as good as the clothes did after the big “Weekly wash”. Fun fact.
I entered the bathroom and listened to the faint thud of my clothes as they dropped to the floor. I turned the knob to start the shower but it was a good ten minutes before I figured how to work it properly, I was shivering by then. After another five minutes of it heating up I stepped inside and let the heat of the water loosen my tensed nerves.
I dried off and pulled on some sweats and a white tank top. I checked the clock settled on an old fashioned mantelpiece opposite my bed. The fireplace was empty, probably never used and I didn’t need to question why. It was a good 100 degrees outside (that’s around 37 degrees in Celsius). I half closed my curtains to block the strong light that was breaking and entering. The sun here will be the death of me.
I slid on a blue, beaded headband to keep back my dripping hair and I decided to let it air dry while I read the first couple of chapters of my biology book. After a page, I flung it across the room in frustration. The words seemed to be floating, the letters mixing themselves up like they were having a frat party in my brain, drink, drugs and all. Simple words like the became unreadable, I couldn’t even read the title properly it looked something like Yspich kobo Nesrio. What the fuck does that mean? Mom wasn’t home so going to her wasn’t an option and Steve? I’ve had enough people think me stupid thank you.
Dumb? At times. Stupid? Definitely not, Dyslexic, that would have to be a yes.
Dyslexia. Even the word is torture to my brain, it’s like they know we have this annoying, bitch eating up our words and puking them out in the wrong order in our brains and then they go and call it something I can’t spell half the time? Not fair. Thank god for autocorrect.
Time rolled by and I ended up plugging my iPod into my speakers and screaming along with Of Mice and Men and Pierce The Veil. It was around three and I had picked up my guitar and started humming Miss Jackson while strumming with my thumb so as not to disturb the silence haunting my awfully quiet house. (For those of you who play no capo and the chords vary around Dm, G, Bb and A). I was started when I heard the crazy guitar riff blast from Harold’s breastplate. I stood perfectly still, too shocked to move. I glanced to my pocket to see it illuminating. I breathed out and answered my phone blindly. “Hello?”
*
“Please Serenity!” His voice had changed, from his usual stern tone a weak cry of plea. He was clearly exasperated. I struggled to keep my voice calm.
“You know you’ve never cared enough to pay attention to me! Why start now? News flash Dad, money will never buy my happiness.
“Tia I’ve only –” his voice softened.
“Yeah, you’ve only noticed about how much fatherly feelings you’ve had for me after I’ve left.”
“NO! That’s not what I was going to say!” I heard him sniffle and the strange sound of him wiping his nose against a shirtsleeve. “Please!” His voice broke.
“Goodbye Dad” and I cut the line.
*
I walked out of the house.
I pulled on converse and a hoodie and decided to go for a walk to cool down. The fact that it was still if-you-drop-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk-it-will-sizzle kind of hot didn’t help. I dragged my feet and kicked some stones around on the road. I tried to ignore the constant beeping and yelling of the world around me and continue to wander aimlessly around the city.
I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, not looking back and keeping my head down. I stopped when I reached a patch of grass, the first I’d seen since I left my driveway. I looked up. I had reached to forest again.
I walked forward, looking for a suitable tree to climb and maybe forget about the world’s torture. I had reached an oak about as thick as I am tall. Perfect.
I reached for the lowest branch and hauled myself up, higher and higher until I reached the leafy canopy overhead. I observed my surroundings, I was high enough to see the whole forest and the park itself but it was still humid up there. I swung my leg over the branch and settled there. I was alone, and that gave me strength.
“WHAT THE HELL?”
I rolled to the side, almost slipping out of the tree completely, I just managed to grab onto a smaller twig, and thankfully it held my weight. For how much longer? I wouldn’t know.
I was greeted with a pair of light brown eyes and familiar swishy black hair. His hand grasped mine and pulled me back into the tree. “Pete” I said while brushing off imaginary dust “WHAT THE ACTAUL FUCK?!”
“Sorry” He mumbled. I shook my head.
*
We sat in a comfortable silence for what seemed like hours. “I sit up here sometimes” he said with a sigh “just to experience what peace is like. What life can be like without the constant screams of disagreements in your ears.” He said with a sigh.
I placed my hand on his arm, like a sign that it was okay to stop, it must of hurt him, I could see it in his eyes. He carried on. “At home…” he chocked a little on the fresh tears rolling down his cheeks “-My parents just –”
“It’s okay” I pulled him into as much of a hug as the tree allowed. “I get it” I said to him, rubbing my palm against my running nose, I looked at the still, forest resting beneath my eyes.
Dad hauled his suitcase into his new 1999 volvo, I grabbed Mom’s hand and tugged it slightly. “Mommy” I said, my voice muffled with my left thumb in my mouth “Is Daddy going on holidays?”
It was Pete’s turn to reassure me. He squeezed my hand. I salt lingered on the edge of my tongue as I wiped my face hastily.
“I totally get it.”
A/N: And that was Chapter Two! It was meh, I have exams starting tomorrow so apologies if this was crap.
If you’re wondering: Tia is 17, so she would’ve been 3 years old during the flashback.
Oh, and PETE AND TIA WERE NOT HAVING AN INTIMATE MOMENT! THEY ARE FRIENDS! FRIENDS! Kay? Cool.
This weeks song:
Seconds and Sebring - Of Mice and Men
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xoxo - Sae <3
