ALLEN'S POINT | Completed [English: editing]

[ 10:00:00 ]

-I-

-10:00:00-

"SHUT UP, MA!"

Marvin, giving in to his Id, impulsively shouted at his mom at the peak of his anger. Marvin's mom was momentarily stupefied not by the yell of her son but by the word itself. She just looked at him with those eyes drowning in their sockets. The shout was like a blast from a gun causing surprise, fear, and uncertainties to wherever ears it could reach. Most of the time, it's too late to realize the wounds they cause as the meaning of the words seeps into the folds of the receiver's brain. Heavy words are the ones that are easy to release, bury deep into the flesh, and stay for long in someone's thoughts, causing wounds that are invisible to the eyes. 

Words are swords and hearts are butter. Never mix them or you'll suffer. Though, you won't remember the latter when you let yourself be filled with anger.

He was as confused as his mother as the words left his lips. Moments passed and time seemed to slow down. While they were in a quarrel, Charlie, his three-year-old brother, had been crying and sniffing, on the sofa. Even if Charlie's innocent mind did not fully understand the gravity of the situation, he knew it was not good. He was just there, helplessly sitting on the sofa, sobbing.

If your father's here, he would've been the one who would talk to you, this was what Marvin expected to hear from his mother. But nothing came out from her trembling lips. Probably because his father is not here and will never be here ever again for he had been gone physically. 

Shit!, What the hell are you doing, Marvin? He asked himself. Just like what usually happens, Marvin would often think there were two Marvins in his head: the good and the nasty. Good Marvie is the one who would tease him with social and moral standards. It's the self-critical conscience. On the contrary, the Nasty Marvie is the one who would often introduce nasty thoughts and impulsively make decisions and actions on his behalf. 

Where have these all started? He asked himself again. 

Yeah, right! The glaring red mark on my report card! Fuck! The grades in red are to be blamed! Nasty Marvie explained. That fucking red! It added.

You know, you're mad, Marvin! Good Marvie commented. You haven't even realized that you're not the only one who's going through these difficult times! Have you ever considered what your mother is going through as well? All three of you have lost the person you loved so dearly, yet now you're acting like you are the only one who has the right to go mad, get depressed, and burst? 

Well, thank you very fucking much for that, conscience! Marvin said. 

Marvin often felt that in critical situations, like the one that was happening at this moment, the two Marvies would always disagree with each other. Somehow, he thought that this kind of internal argument in his head was a way of diverting his attention or escaping from the situation. 

As he started to feel the relaxation of his chest, while anger started to evaporate from his skin, he began to see the person who was as heartbroken, or even more, than him. His mother.

For a while, they just stood there. Marvin began to notice the deep silence. He realized that Charlie had fallen asleep on the sofa. Time seemed to slow down. Probably, that's how time behaves; fleeting when the moment is in your favor, dragging when you are in trouble.

He felt the pain on her face caused by the words that came out of his mouth. He might not fathom what his mother was feeling, but he knew well its result.

Why did I say it to Mama? He asked himself or probably it was an inquiry from Good Marvie. This question was quickly followed by an image of himself asking for forgiveness from his mother. But the idea of doing it felt so difficult to do. The act was bound with shame and guilt. And of course, it is guilt! Marvin wants to end the argument. But how? He wants to escape from the situation. Amid this confusion, he suddenly felt the urge to play online games in the Internet cafe.

Now that's a good idea! Nasty Marvie commented. 

It's probably the Nasty Marvie who moved his legs out from their home without any word. While he went out, Marvin didn't notice his tears falling. What he realized was his throbbing chest and the lump that seemed to go up to his throat making it almost difficult to breathe. He continued to walk into the darkness where the lamp from the lamp post had not produced any light since the other night.