When Bluebirds Fly | ✔

Part One : Chapter Eighteen

The next few days felt dreamlike as I moved torpidly from home to Bailey's Nuts. Somedays, I would admonish myself for perpetually stressing about the harrowing predicament I was tangled in and other days, I would incessantly harass myself to think about the daunting situation (as my mind wandered off to everything else but that) and discover a solution for it. Nevertheless, from exaggerated plans of robbing a bank to petty crimes like pickpocketing, I explored all plausible and asinine ideas and never reached a pragmatic conclusion.  

"Hey, what are you thinking?" Isaac's inquisitive voice brought me back. "You have been quiet lately."

"I have always wanted to be quiet, but you guys never allowed me any peace," I sneered, then bit the inside of my cheek. Be kind. "Why do you think that anyway?"

"I don't want to be intrusive, but you have been not yourself since that day- that day at your building. That-that boy, is he troubling you?"

"Oh no, Sam's like my brother. He simply lost his temper that day," I said dismissively. "You know, things aren't great for people like us who live there."

Isaac looked crestfallen and guilt-ridden, here I was again, crassly pointing out our class difference. 

He then nodded in understanding. "If you want any help, let me know. " Ask him, ask him for money! "Help with anything." Tell him, tell him what happened to you! "You will, won't you Ana?"

"Sure." I shrugged casually, grabbing a washcloth and assiduously wiping the smooth counter.

* * *

The minute I arrived at the corridor of my apartment, my eyes briefly met with Abel's who was combing his greyish hair, watching the rowdies fooling around in the compound.

I quickly turned around, but halted at his mocking voice, "Where are you going, love?" I remained quiet, I knew that any sassy retort would land me in pitiful trouble. "It's been a while and I haven't heard a word from you."

"I don't have the money," I said courageously, balling my hands into tight fists. "I'm arranging for it."

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, his apathetic eyes bulging madly. "You promised to help me as fast as possible. This is not fast! It's been over a week, you stupid slut!"

I feared that he would smack me so I recoiled involuntarily.

He snickered in a futile attempt to control his boiling aggravation. "You're provoking me in ways no one has, Mariana."

I was irked, my fists were shaking from this pumping desire to harm him or perhaps they were shaking from mere fright, I couldn't tell.

"Look." I drew in a long breath and fished through my pockets. "Papá spent all his savings on his new business and all I have is-is this."

I timidly offered him a month's salary of toiling away in Bailey's Nuts.

He suddenly slapped my outstretched hand and cried out, "You're lying!"

"No, I swear---"

His large hands squeezed my cheeks painfully as he looked at me dead in the eye. "Bring me the money or I won't hesitate to show you and everyone else what I got."

I felt so small right then like I was transported back to when I was a mischievous child and reprimanded for pushing Isaac into a puddle.

I tried to maintain the sincerity in my eyes and after a few, torturous seconds of him holding me in that vulnerable position, he scornfully let go.

"Next time," he muttered and I nodded faintly, ignoring the burn of pain and shame tingling my cheeks.

"Mariana?" I heard a bewildered, familiar voice of my comforting friend from behind. "What's going on?"