Defeated

Part 5

I drop the notebook onto the floor. Las knew La was alive. Years before, she knew La was alive. But she never told me. I pray to God a hundred times to give her back to me right at this moment. I do not have the courage to pick up the notebook again. I feel it is all my fault. Those countless nights when Las just cried, all I could do was hold her. But it is simply not enough. Only if she told me what she went through, I would have killed that bastard.

I remember the days when we were kids. We used to live in Austin. We were there since we were born. Then when we turned two, this girl moved in to the house next to us. I remember I saw them move their things for the entire day. But I mostly remember I saw the girl. That girl was so happy, running around, gorgeous brown hair. Once in a while she would fall to the ground. Every time she fell, I wished I could go and pick her up. Those memories are priceless.

Then I remember the day when I again meet this girl after a whole twelve years. This time she looks at me. I recognize her but I just cannot be sure. Her head is tilted and maybe somewhere in her mind, she recognized me too. Because we were friends for so long when we were kids. Just as I say 'hey', she becomes extremely nervous. I guess my voice makes her embarrassed. She expects me to look away. But I cannot look away.

For the entire time that I follow her towards her car, I pray she is that little girl. Little do I know, that my prayers are already answered. I try to talk to her but I guess my conduct is a bit savage. The last thing I can truly do is ask for her school identity card. When I see the name, I lose it. I am heartbroken, if my heart was whole to begin with. I let her go. For the entire walk back to the store, I am so frustrated. I punch the glass-door before I walk inside.

When I arrive back home, Mom can tell I am not alright. God, I am never completely alright. But that day I was even less alright. She takes the grocery from my hand as I wrap my arms around her. I never feel comfort hugging anyone else nowadays, only Mom. Just hugging her gives peace to my mind. But that day even her hug was not enough. I go back to my room and take off my jacket. I punch the bag with my bare hand until my knuckles hurt.