The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

chapter 46: the final regret

Trigger warning: mentions of sexual harassment and abuse.

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As the ending credits are rolling, the lights of the cinema hall come alive. I'm the first one to stand up amidst the five of us left.

I run out of the hall. The old woman at the counter glances up at me, a tint of curiosity in her gaze, but I don't have time to acknowledge her. Once I'm out of the entrance gate, I look to both sides, not seeing July anywhere. Panic rises in me, mixed with confusion. Where the hell did he go, and what the hell was up with him? He watched the whole movie with so much concentration, making comments here and there, laughing and wiping his eyes. What could've happened for him to suddenly become like that?

I decide to check the motel, which is placed right next to the cinema hall. Maybe he went inside. Just as I pass the hall, something gets caught in my peripheral vision. I stop in my tracks, then turn. In the darkness of the alley created between the movie theatre and the motel, I see a lone figure sitting. I can recognize that figure anywhere.

"July?" I call, running up to him. He is leaning against the wall of the motel, knees hugged to his chest, face buried in his arms. I've seen him in this position so many times already. He is devastated by something. I crouch down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. "July?" I call again. "What happened?"

He raises his head. His eyes are unexpectedly dry, but they are widened to their limits. I feel my throat going dry. God knows what happened this time. I'm not even surprised anymore, just tired.

"What happened? You were fine just a moment ago. Everything was fine . . ."

"Nothing was ever fine," he tells me, his wide eyes now directed to the ground.

"What- what do you mean?"

He shakes his head. "I thought . . . I thought it'd be fine if I never told you. I thought I could erase that memory and just fill up that gap with new, happy memories with you. But I was wrong. It's impossible. The guilt eats me from inside every minute. I keep feeling like I'm betraying you by hiding something like this. It's truly impossible. But- but I don't want you to hate me and-"

"July, July, hold on, hold on." I raise my palms, frowning. "What in the world are you talking about? I don't understand anything! What are you hiding from me? I thought you've told me everything already."

"No . . ."

That's when it suddenly clicks in my mind. I drop my hand from his shoulder. "Are you . . . by any chance, talking about Moon?" I ask in a quiet tone.

He nods slowly.

The night July cried in front of me for the very first time, after I confronted him about the sketch of a woman that he drew. The woman was Moon. He had burst into tears, and he had told me, "I wish she would forgive me."  And a day later, after we came back to normal, he told me, how Moon killed herself just a day after he met her for the last time, and the last words she told him were, "Find me in the moon."

He has never told me what exactly happened between him and Moon.

"About what happened the day before she died?" I inquire.

He nods again, still not meeting my eyes.

This is quite concerning. Something in the movie triggered the memory he tried to bury down. There is only one thing in the movie that could be that triggering. And it's definitely not something good.

It can't be.

No, no, I'm sure it's nothing related to that. That's simply impossible. So I move to his side and sit leaning against the wall, keeping a bit of distance. Clearing my throat, I say, "Then, tell me."