Scarlett

Chapter 5: Friendship

We had a wonderful time at the Raymonds'. They were extremely hospitable and great to be around. Mark and I did not get to talk for long as we left soon. We had made other plans. We picked up Derek from his school and went to the theatre to watch a movie. Mark and I exchanged our phone numbers before I left their place. I hoped to receive a text from him as I was a little too shy to send one. 

Days passed but there was not a text from him. I was a little upset but I tried not to think too much about it. I did not want to prioritise it considering the pettiness of the matter. However, the thought did visit my mind at times. I often wondered what Mark thought about me, if he did think about me at all. I wondered what his impression of me was. Somehow, it felt important. I realised that acceptance was integral for me. For some reason, an external source for validation made me feel acceptable. It made me feel happy. I wished for people to accept me as I was, with my strengths and flaws. I craved acceptance. I was not sure if it had an underlying relation to my past and the years of childhood that I lost. Maybe it was all connected. Maybe I was too naive to see it.

I thought about Mark a lot. He had a likeable persona and was great to be around. Mum and Chris also thought highly of him. He was a contrast of his brother. As much as I admired Mark for his friendly and easy going nature, the thought of his younger brother repelled me.

I looked at the t-shirt in front of me and smiled. I did not manage to put it away in my closet. It remained with me on my bed for the last few days. I skimmed through the piece of fabric and wondered if Mark ever wore it and if his skin ever touched it. I imagined him in the t-shirt as it perfectly fit his sculpted torso. I realised that my thought had turned out my control and was no longer appropriate. I shrugged in embarrassment and immediately dismissed the thought. 

I heard my phone ring and the word 'Dad' popped up on the screen. Dad and I did not talk to each other everyday over the phone. I was eager to hear his voice after an entire week and immediately answered the call with a gush of excitement.

"How is my princess doing?" Dad asked. There was something unusual in his voice that I failed to identify. His voice did not reveal happiness as he spoke to me after a long week. I tried to ignore the thought.

"Great! I've been busy with my online classes. Mum suggested that I should know the basics. I'm currently learning secondary level English literature and I love it. I will soon finish reading Great Expectations and David Copperfield. And I've been visiting the park a lot these days. It's so relaxing. And you know, my neighbour here gave me his signed Enrique Iglesias t-shirt. Remember how we listened to his songs back then?" I spoke to him in a single breath. I wanted to tell him everything that was going on with my life.

"Amazing Scarlett, then I guess you don't need your old man anymore. You have your Mumma and her new rich husband. He's rich isn't he? I'm sure he gets you expensive gifts." He replied after a long gulp. I noticed the emphasis on the word 'new'. He drank as he spoke to me, I could tell. Suddenly, I was not sure if it was a good time to talk to him. Dad drank a lot, even when we lived together in Palm Fields. As a child, I always saw him with a glass bottle. I did not know what he drank, I never asked. Now I realised that Dad was an alcoholic. He still was, I could tell from the way I could hear him gulp before he talked. Alcohol for him was almost like water. Mum and Dad fought every time Dad drank. Slowly they lost a piece of themselves every time they fought. He often got loud and broke things around the house - chinas, vases, clay pots, photo-frames. They were toxic for each other. Home was toxic for me. As a child, I pretended to never notice it.

"No no. I miss you so much, Dad. When can we meet?" I asserted myself on the word 'you'.

"Yet, you never call." He slurred.