Chapter Five

The room was immersed in wholesome silence. The only sound heard was the slight grazing of the fork against the plate one in a while.

My eyes stayed glued to the fork in my hand, my breathing was weirdly slow, unlike usual. My tongue played in my dry mouth as my mind drifted back to Flare, my conversation with her today, her hurt look on her face, her notes. I didn't over do it, did I?

My mind drifted further down memoryville as echoes of her laughter, flashes of her smile and flashes of my own smile when I was with her. There was sincere peace in my eyes when I was with her. I could voice out and not feel judged. I could drop the whole trying to be the perfect kid born to classy parents.

But it was for the best. I was way out of her league. And for my status, I'm actually still shit. I'm anything like the regal rich kids you see. All proper and perfect. I was the direct opposite in crucial ways.

I was stuck with Hemophilia, Heterochromia. My left eye had a slight discolouration— it was a lighter shade, nearly green. I had some psychological issues going on with me. More like my demons are rearing out. I couldn't bag the best honors like my brother, I couldn't get into college. I was reeking of failure. Besides, I'd never be able to introduce her to my family as a friend or bring her to my home properly. My parents would never hear of it. So it was for the best. We could never be friends.

"Stop playing with your food!"

My eyes immediately snapped up at the direction of the order.

"There are dinning room etiquette, and I believe I taught them to you." Briana said while dropping her glass of mango juice.

I lowered my eyes, knowing I wasn't hungry. My appetite has being quite thin for a while now. But I had to eat so I could have my morning meditation.  Knowing that, I forced myself to have a bite of the vegetables in my plate, contorting my face as I chewed on the green beans and diced broccoli. I hate vegetables but irony was my body needed them more than the others, so I had no choice.

Having had my fill, I wiped my mouth on the napkin and stood, taking my leave. I made my way to the library. It was my second favourite place.

My dad had a habit of reading so he made us inculcate it. He'd buy lots of books and make us read it, then explain it to him, just so he could confirm that we read it. Eventually, we had a room filled with books which we had arranged alphabetically and by author. It was truly a sacred place.

I plopped myself down on the wooden chair and buried my head on the burrow I made with my arms on the table. I sighed deeply, not understanding the pain and supreme tiredness I was feeling. Pain and tiredness wasn't new to me but this was particularly different.

I grabbed my favourite book, Othello by Shakespeare and sat, running my hand along the spine of the book. I opened the book and it landed on a page that I had a left a note in. I skimmed the page, reading the parts I had highlighted with a light blue highlighter. I took the note and read it:

Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak. I kissed thee ere I killed thee: no way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

It was my favourite part of the book. The first sentence being the one I adored the most. I sighed, not sure how I wanted to go about my day. I've got to study, yet that picture I found kept bothering me. I needed answers.

As much as I had considered asking my father about it, I was beginning to rethink it. Who knows what he's response will be. Asking my mother is definitely out of it. Then the thought of my grandmother came to me again. Right now, I'm guessing she's my only option. She's never lied to me; and if she knows anything about the picture, she's bound to tell me. But something deep down hints at the fact that the details about the picture, will be limited to just my nuclear family.

Oscar. Of course. He's my Elder brother, he's definitely got to know something. But what if he didn't? Well, I'd take my chances when he gets back. I really wouldn't want my parents to know about me having the picture just yet. Incase it's something I'm not meant to have.

I pick myself up from the chair, taking the book with me. I rub my neck, cracking the tensed muscles in it. I had feared it would grow stiff with all the inbuilt tension.

I glanced at my phone and bit my lip. The alarm for my morning drug was done. I quickly darted to my room and straight for my nightstand. Digging out my pills, I set them on the table and sat down. I began carefully pouring out my medication and swallowing them. I downed a glass of water and exhaled sharply.

I really was tired of being cooked up inside my room, in my house. I really missed my days of high school. At least I got to go somewhere, everyday.

My phone dinged, it was a message from Blanco. A guy that I shared chemistry class with severely back then in high school. I remember the day he took my number. He was never really good in chemistry and he's grades were dropping really bad. And since we were partners in chemistry projects a lot, I'd just do most of the work then explain to him later. He was grateful to me because he's grades picked up really quick, then suggested we exchange numbers. I really didn't want to do it, but after him being persuasive for nearly a week, I finally gave in.

I read he's message and it was weirdly funny. Apparently he's going to Harvard. He's parents decided Harvard was a better option for him. But he's sulking because he wanted to go to the Harrisburg University of Science and Technology, Pennsylvania. With a small smile on my face, I replied with a puppy dog eye emoji.

I wouldn't say Blanco was fully my friend, but he's really been a vibe for the boring and tiresome days. Always with the positive energy. Just like Flare. I winced at the thought my subconscious was putting up. A ding from my phone reverted my attention. It was Blanco sending me a crying emoji. How dramatic can this guy be? I decide to reply with a text that read:

Looks like I'd be seeing you there. I'm taking their entrance exam in a week's time. I really do wish you luck.

Just when I had just clicked on the send icon, a reply came shortly after. That definitely was fast. It's usually him doing most of the texting. Sometimes I view he's messages and decide not to reply, other times I just forget about him. My life is really antisocial and preoccupied for friendship. But today, I just decided to indulge him.

He's reply was surprisingly funny. It read:

You really shouldn't be wishing me good luck. I'm team bad luck here. Last month, I emailed my grades and documents, requesting an admission into Harrisburg. I doubt they'd reject me because I aced all my courses. Harvard can go kiss my ass.

I shook my head at his words and sent a smiley faced emoji to him. I stuck my phone in my pocket, deciding to go to the public library. I've never been there but today, I just feel like being somewhere serene. And away from my house.

I got another layer of bandages on my hand as a result of my episode the other day. Apparently I had dug my fists into a mirror and crashed into the sink. It was a bloody mess.

After a quick bath, I pulled on a white fitted Turtleneck and black jeans along with my white air jordans that had grey streaks on it. I grabbed my long Black coat and took my black sunglasses. My hair was quite messy but not my problem. I just brushed it out a little and pulled it into a messy bun. I hissed at the fact that I was wearing a white T-shirt but today, I just felt like going out of my ordinary look. Spraying my favourite cologne, I grabbed my phone and left my room, locking my door behind me. Incase they decide to snop.

Tossing the key in my pocket, I strolled down the stairs and into the living room. I would have gone further but my steps were haulted by the commanding baritone.

"Where to son?"

I sighed bitterly and gritted my teeth in irritation. "Out! I'm going out. I would be back for dinner."

"You're going out? really? Eldse, do not step a foot out of this house." He spat out with anger brewing in his voice.

"I'm visiting a library father, not a nightclub. I'm nineteen for fucks sake. I can at least go there." I really wasn't asking for his permission.

"You live under my roof, you obey my rules. We have a library inside, use it. Besides, you've got exams in a week so outside..." he peered his eyes at me as he took a sip of his wine, "is out of it. And do not question my order, do not defy me." He added in a low voice.

"I'd take my chances." I said and resumed my steps out of the house.

Having a driver take me was out of it and so was the option of taking a car. The gate would definitely have me locked in and so will the bodyguards. So I did what my mind told me to do. Run before they even notice me and it worked. I was out of the premises before those guys could comprehend my presence.

But then I knew I was in for hell when I get home. The text I got from my father confirmed it:

We'd revisit this insolence of yours when you get home. Or rather, when they find you and bring you home. Have a nice day son.

Shit! The greeting at the end made the text even more threatening. This guy really gave me psycho vibes.

Related chapters

Latest chapter Protection Status