Tragedy ✔️

Chapter Twenty Three

I sit down across from Sophia, on the small single sofa on the east side of the living room, next to the fireplace that was up warming up the entire living room.

Sophia was giggling at something my aunt has said, but she immediately stopped laughing when she noticed that I was sitting across from her.

She clears her throat and tugs at the hem of her white and red dress awkwardly.

I wanted to tell her that I was just as uncomfortable to have her here, but I kept my mouth shut instead.

I did, after all promise my aunt that I would be on my best behaviour today.

As I was listening to the conversation going on between my aunt and Jenna, I couldn’t help but to look over at Sophia. She had her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her left leg kept jumping up and down restlessly, and she would blink more than what was considered normal. She would also tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear every few minutes even though it was already behind her ear.

She was restless, and I don’t think it had something to do with me this time.

My eyes must’ve lingered for a second too long on Sophia because before I knew it, she locked eyes with me, and as they were on mine, I noticed that she kind of looked harried and even haunted somehow. She was also extremely pale, except for the tips of her ears and nose from the snowy weather outside.

I was the one to look away first, and when I looked at her again, she was smiling at something my aunt said and rubbing the top of Duke’s head unknowingly.

She didn’t look my way again.

But after a few minutes have passed, I started to realise that she wasn’t joining in on the conversation at all. She was just sitting there, rubbing the top of Duke’s head and smiling whenever her grandmother or my aunt looked at her.

It was as if she didn’t want to say anything because she was afraid that she’d say the wrong thing and be kicked out of the house again like the last time.

I must admit that it made me feel like a real asshole.

It was never my attention for her to feel like she has to walk on eggshells around me, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to be nasty to her. I had to make her understand that if she was going to bring them up again, that there will be consequences, but like I told my aunt the other day, I didn’t want to be like this.

When someone mentions Beck or asks what happened to them, a feeling of sheer anger washes over me entirely and I can’t think straight at all anymore.

It’s how they ask the question, like the question wouldn’t affect me at all when it actually does affect me in the worst way possible. And even though it is just a simple question, it still affects me. It has always affected me, and it always will.

 We were sitting around the dinner table now.

Sophia was sitting beside me. Her hands were now unclasped and holding cutlery but her hand still gripped the fork tightly, as if her life depended on it.

“Sophia tells me that butterfly project of yours is coming along well.” Jenna says, looking at me while I was busy propping a small potato into my mouth.

I nod at her. “It has been coming along well, yes.” I tell her when I finished chewing.

It’s because she has been doing the project herself and I wasn’t there to ruin it.

I look at Sophia and see her nod in agreement before my gaze flickers back to the plate of food in front of me.

Jenna nods, smiling at the both of us.