The Lost and Found

104 Flowers

CHAPTER TEN: Jack White

As the sound of the fire crack in front of me, my mind drifted to somewhere else.

Where I wouldn't want it to be.

Nine years ago...

"But Grandma, I want more cookies!" I whined, clutching on the lacy end of her pastel pink apron. It has pretty flowers printed all over it. And usually, I would count them all like before even though I already knew how many (104, in case you're wondering), but now, I had my focus on something else.

Those soft, chewy, freshly-baked chocolate chip fudge cookies that only my Grandma Esther can pull off.

Well, technically, she's not my Grandma. She's my parent's close, 'most-trusted' friend and she's barely even sixty.

"You already had six cookies, young man!" she scolded then laughed. It was humanely impossible for her to get angry. "Now, brush your teeth and put Allison to bed."

But she sure is pushy and very dominant.

I groaned and slumped down my shoulders. "Tell me one good reason why I should."

Grandma Esther rolled her eyes. It was the warmest, friendliest hazel eyes I have ever seen. "Because, my dearest, little muffin, I wouldn't want you to have cavities and if you put Allison to bed and brush your teeth, I'm saving up a dozen cookies for you to eat tomorrow morning." I instantly perked up. "For breakfast."

Now that got me running.

She rarely gives me cookies for breakfast. It's normally just for snack times and lunch.

"Run now, little boy! Put on your PJs by yourself and five additional cookies!"

Yeah, now I know where I got my laziness from.

I scrambled up the stairs and tripped on the fifth step away from the top. I yelped and immediately imagined Grandma Esther laughing her head off.

But she would still ask if I'm okay.

"Hey, clumsy potato," she called, her voice held a bit of kept laughter, "are you alright?"

It hurts like I've been stabbed. "Yeah, I'm fine, Grandma. I'm Batman, remember?"

Her sweet chuckled echoed in my ears. "Of course, my sweet pumpkin. You're Batman. The clumsy version."

I laughed and ran back up the stairs. "I love you, Grandma!"

"I know you do, little boy!"

I rolled my eyes. Typical Grandma Esther.

Panting, I walked down the hall and stopped in front of a purple door. Unlike other little girls, Allison hates pink and went for purple instead.

And she hates cookies. Well, the chocolate ones. She prefers peanut butter and the ones with raisins.

I thought it was weird but I love her anyway.

Allison's two years younger than me which means she was six that time. She's got curly blonde hair and blue eyes and always seem to sparkle. She was my cousin. But she had always looked up to me as a big brother. Same goes for her - she's my little sister.

"Bubble!" she shrieked when she saw me by her doorstep. I slightly cringed at her nickname for me. I honestly had no idea where that came from.

I lifted her off the ground and kissed her cheek. "What's up, Lollipop?"

Once again, unlike other little girls, she hates sweets and chocolate. She likes cheese and strawberries instead.

"Eew, don't call me that. I don't like it." she said, making a face.

"That's the point, Lollipop." I grinned, putting her down. "Now, let's get you into your nightgown."

"Okay."

I went to her drawer and pulled out a cotton dress with pumpkins all over it. It was her favorite because she adores pumpkins and everything related to pumpkins.

Enthusiastically she put it on and loosened her braided pigtails. Allison skipped to her little bookshelf and handed me a story book.

It was one of the curious George books.

I hated those for some reason.

"Read me a story, read me a story, Bubble!" she said, jumping up and down excitedly on her bed. I stood up, alert, afraid she might fall down and injure herself.

"Careful, Lollipop, you could fall," I said blocking the area behind her. "Sit down and I will."

Instantly, she settled down on her mattress.

I read the story, wincing at some parts where it got really childish. Allison sat in front of me attentively although her eyelids couldn't help but droop down due to sleepiness. She didn't make it by the end of the story. No big surprise there.

I tucked her in, placed all her plush toys by her side and went to turn off the main light, leaving her in the darkness except there was a spot that was illuminated by a carousel nightlight Mom gave her. But she grabbed my wrist, pulled me back, her round blue eyes staring up at my dark brown ones.

"Is something wrong, Lollipop?" I asked, sitting on the unoccupied area of her bed.

"When is Mom and Dad going home?" she whispered, her voice vulnerable and soft that it pinched my heart.

My eyes burned and my throat tightened. I looked at her, my little sister, a six-year-old girl who happens to know nothing what was going on, that they were not away for a business trip but to cool out the heat between them and possibly file a divorce. Of course she didn't know that. Even I shouldn't. But I was a badass and eavesdropped on my parent's room the night before they left and dropped my here.

I felt lonely, despite the fact that I kept telling myself that I don't need them - I don't need them - and I hated them. They were barely here. And they made this girl believe that they were her parents and that her real Mom and Dad walked away the second she was born and dropped her at us. They made me handle a responsibility they knew that would be hard for me without them, made me live like a kid with no freedom just because they expect me to take care of her, myself and my Grandma who apparently lost control both of her legs.

They don't care about us. They don't love us. Always at work or if not, always away, fighting and 'cooling off the heat'. It was so stupid. Why can't my father wear a condom when they had sex and not have me released in this horrible, unfair world?

They don't love us. They don't love me. Never had!

Since I could walk, it was brought down to me. To look after her. Not that I disliked it. I love Allison. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. But sometimes, I just wondered that, could they ever possibly love me I love her?

I never looked up to them as parents. If I did, I lied. For Allison. She was too young for this. Even I'm too young for this. But this was bound to happen to me.

As long as I could, I'd protect her. I'd protect Allison. I'd make sure she would have a childhood to remember. Not a crappy one like mine. She'd live a lie if she had to. Believe my parents are horribly work crazy and let her believe they'd come back.

Even though they wouldn't.

Grand Couple of Lies. Epitome of Bullshit.

I got it and used it occasionally.

"They're just working, Lollipop," I whispered, my chest aching. I kissed the tip of her nose. "Just working."

Then, the worst of all,

"They'd come back."