Life is a blank canvas. It's empty. It's just me. There were no colors, no smudges, no traces... nothing, just me in black and white.
It’s been a week since we encountered a bus explode right in front of us. It’s been a week since I was traumatized from seeing dozens of people burn to death. It’s been a week, but I was still feeling helpless. Jessica once called me a hero, but what kind of hero am I really? I wasn’t even able to do anything, just standing there in cold shivers. The guys who pushed the bus just to clear the driveway have done so much more than I ever did. The firemen cleared out the fire. The traffic guy made sure the traffic would be organized. The emergency people took the bus off the road. But me, what did I do? I was depressed for days, still traumatized of what happened. The bus explosion went all over the news. A lot of the people who witnessed it were interviewed, and they still couldn’t figure out who it was who blew up the bus. From what I heard, the thorough investigation of the explosion of the bus led to a fact that it didn’t just explode because of engine problems. It was blown up by someone. It was almost impossible to find out who the bomber was. There were no footages or surveillance cameras in the terminal, so it was unlikely that they discover who the bomber was. There wasn’t really any survivor in the bus, so there wasn’t anyone who might be a good witness. It wasn’t a quick case. There were no leads. There were no prime suspects that were even close to looking guilty. It didn’t seem like a suicide attempt, and it definitely wasn’t anything that was just done for kicks. It was clear that someone out there has a motive, and it’s not good.
~~~Adoring~~~
So there was I, back to reality. After a week of torturing myself with lowering-self-esteem thoughts, I was finally back to normal again. It was about eight o’clock in the morning, and I was just getting ready to leave the house when I heard my parents fighting again. Just before I went out of my room, I heard them yelling at each other again. My mom was a lawyer; my dad was a businessman, so agreeing probably isn’t their thing. Just behind the door, I would’ve witnessed two people who used to love each other so much now fight like they don’t even know each other anymore. Most of the time, they fight over money, but they fight about a lot of things too. I can’t say it’s not a beautiful thing to finally have your parents off my back, but considering I’m an only child and it was getting lonely and quiet here in the house, I’d say it can’t be too good.
It took them about ten minutes to finally stop. That’s how long I was standing right next to my door, listening to their rants. Then, I heard my dad knock on the door probably two minutes after they stopped fighting.
“Son.” He called to me. Dad’s voice sounded lonelier than usual. “Do you want a drive to school?”
Of course, I had to take that offer. Other than saving money, I wanted to avoid riding a bus as much as possible, so dad drove me to school. We took the skyway because most buses don’t go there, and it’s a lot traffic-free there. While we were on the way, I wanted to ask dad stuff about mom, why they didn’t get along anymore. Of course, it seemed weird, but I just really wanted to know.
“Dad.” I said as I was sitting right next to him. Dad was on his work clothes. He always left the house an hour before mom, and he always slept right before mom ever got home, so they barely got the time to talk anymore.
“Yeah?” Dad sounded casual, so I was still in doubt if I should ask.
“Why don’t you get along with mom anymore?” I turned to see that, and he looked at me for not too long and turned back to the driveway. It took a moment for dad to talk back.
