I HEAR YOU

XIX: CALVIN

"Were you crying?"

Steve's voice welcomed me home. The lights in the living room were turned off because mom likes it that way. I continued to walk further and acted like I didn't see him or hear him, but I did. I just don't want to talk to anyone right now. The argument from this afternoon had taken a toll on me. It had rendered me physically drained. I didn't expect my body to suffer this bad at reeling the emotions in.

"Anthony?," he called out again. I head his feet shuffle softly on the tiled floor. "Were you crying?," he repeated the question again but this time a little louder than earlier but not that loud to wake mom and Josh up.

I sighed. Every time I feel like ignoring him makes my stomach churn in guilt.

Yes, I was crying. "No."

Yes I was crying and that made me wonder if she had been too or if she is right now. I breathed out deeper. I shouldn't be thinking about her. I shouldn't be too worked up. I stood like a statue trying to compose myself from the thoughts that bothered me.

Both of us didn't dare turn the lights on. I just stood there waiting....for something I can't quite grasp yet. I'm still not sure but I still stood there as he passed by me. Seconds later, I heard soft clatters in the kitchen and then a hiss. The lights in the kitchen had turned on.

I was still stuck, feet nailed on the doormat. I exhaled a large amount of air. Whatever I was exhaling for, I had already forgotten. I can only focus on how my muscles seem to contract and spasm the large intake of air I had taken after breathing out too much. My body finally catching up with the eventful day had started to ache. But I still couldn't find the strength to even take a seat. With a soft lazy sigh, I calculated the distance between me and the sofa. I heard the fridge open when I finally gave in to a decision of swinging my bag towards the sofa.

THUD.

I winced.

It didn't reach as I had expected it. I looked up, expecting mom and -------Steve's---------- well, room light up. When it didn't, I sighed in relief. She hasn't woken up.

"She took her pills.....knocked her off before she could even ask where you're at this late," Steve's voice explained my thoughts. Mom had been taking tranquilizers to sleep well at night. I had only known she had started to take this type of medication when she had mistakenly assumed I was Steve and shouted to get her refill. I was furious. I had even started yelling at her if she's an addict. She said she isn't. Firmly. But only after she had slapped me. I asked her what it was for and when she didn't answer. I stormed out of the house and didn't return just until after a week at Dan's house.

I'm getting on edge again. I hate it when she takes those pills. I can't shake the thought that she may be an addict and Steve's one considerate bastard. With such foul thoughts, I rushed to the kitchen only to meet him halfway through our dining room. I stopped on my tracks when I saw him carrying a mug and with the little light seeping through the doorway of the kitchen, the mug of coffee, as I presumed, had released a steady and almost stealthy amount of steam. He stopped on his tracks too when he saw me. Though I'm certain he's not sure what could have been registered on my face as I faced him because of the dimly lit room, I can still see him smile warmly.

"Brewed too much," he shrugged, "but you're welcome to have the rest of it, just don't get scalded."

I didn't say anything. My momentary hatred for the man in front me faded like the steam escaping out of the mouth of his cup. He passed by me. I heard the patters on the floor fade slowly and softly. Suddenly....it stopped.
"I'll be out in the garden," he says and then the patters finally faded into the small corridor leading to the garden.