One Fucked Up World

Chapter Fifteen

Fifteen

     “You’re hanging out with Harry again?” Don asked, frowning at me as he was tidying up the stray pieces in his paper bag. He got up from the floor and walked to the kitchen, getting some hot water.

     Snow was getting thin on the ground outside. It kept me distracted.

     “Yeah.”

     Don gave me an annoyed look, “surely you’re going to have fun.”

     “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. I thought about the newly painted ceiling of my room. I had painted it black, it matched some funny feelings at those nights when Tommy didn't stay on my bed with me.

     Don shrugged.

     “You were the one feeling guilty about hurting Harry,” I said airily.

     “I am,” Don said, “it is my fault, but you don’t have to do anything about it. That’s between me and him, it’s something you won’t understand. So you don't need to hang out with him.”

     “Harry is my friend, and I barely get to hang out with him,” I argued, “yes, he broke your laptop and I was trying to figure why for you. And there are always things that I don't understand, I can't help it.”

     “It doesn’t matter, I forgave him about the laptop,” Don said, "and maybe you should try to understand things instead of just watching people."

     Don said that because Harry was his brother.

     I shut my eyes at once, trying to block this thought.It was like me trying to stop the Mississippi River from overflowing by building Lego walls. I put my head between my knees. It would help. I saw Don and Zara again, and they were laughing.

     He was her son. The room and the floor were wobbling.

     “Minnie?” I heard Don’s voice from a distance hill, “hey, I didn’t mean to say those things.”

     They just sat outside the cinema this time. Zara and Don. Zara put her arm around Don’s shoulders, and they laughed at again. They laughed again! Were they laughing at my stupidity? The laughter was magnifying, and the hurting in my head expanded too. My head, my neck...everything ached.

     “No? What no?” Don called, he touched my hands, but I was pulled away from the floor outside the cinema. Stop, I demanded.

     Don is not Zara’s son...but Don is her son.

     “Minnie? What’s wrong? Open your eyes,” Don’s voice from the sky said again.

     “This is my mum,” the ugly Don sitting with Zara said loudly.

     “No,” I said out loud, “this is wrong because Miss Johnson said no yesterday.”

     Someone shook my shoulders, I didn't like it. I opened my eyes and stiffness left me. Don was sitting in front of me. Don looked scared, why?

     “You alright? I thought...never mind.”

     “What did you think? It's important,” I asked breathless, like I was just rescued from a pool of dead paws and pale hands.

     “I thought you’d go mad like in Redford,” Don sighed of relief.

     “You think I’m mad,” I mused, “I think so too. Especially these days. Sometimes I think I am insane though I am finally able to feel and think like everybody.”