Folklore's Triangle

Folklore

+. - read with music for an immersive experience - .+

It's the last day of September.

A month has passed since my worst mistake.

The thoughts echo in my quiet room near the inner city. Watching from my window, like a movie playing in a summer night, are the everchanging vibrant colours of the passing cars. But I don't seem to hear their noise.

Someone knocks on the door. Strange. I'm not expecting anyone, my parents are at work and my brother is playing tennis.

I pick myself up from the rugs on the floor and throw on some vintage T-shirt, as I take the keys and head to see who this stranger is.

"Mr James Hudson?" asks a courier dressed in the typical blue uniform with a sack full of letters and envelopes in his hand.

"That would be me," I say as I take the envelope and mumble a simple "Have a good day."

I turn the envelope to see who's it from and I almost drop it on the floor.

Augustine. My mistake.

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car"?

And then cancelled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was living for the hope of it all?

And you promisingly said "Meet me behind the mall"?

Yeah, so much for summer love and saying "us" because you weren't mine to lose...

I was swayed by my daydreams, the words between the gleaming skyscrapers, while august slipped away like a bottle of wine.

I thought I had you but it's fine, you were never mine.

~ Augustine

Oh, how could I forget.

It was the end of summer; I was filling my lungs with the salt air of the beach, but the bitterness was offset by the sweetness of Augustine's lipstick. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I was blinded by the sun and probably had a sunstroke because I would have never kissed her. Not because she wasn't beautiful, no, she could outshine the sun with the gold in her hair.

The letter takes me back to the day after our kiss, the day I swore never to see her again. The same day Augustine drove up to my housing estate, even though it was within walking distance of her home, and shouted "get in the car", and I forgot my oath to myself. That august night I stayed next to her, but I dreamt of Elizabeth all summer long.

Now, I take the envelope to the kitchen and find the matchsticks. They're right next to the mouthwatering food mum cooked earlier. Do I burn the paper? It wasn't going to burn away my actions nor my memories, nor the fact that Betty knows everything about my shenanigans because her best friend saw me with Augustine. I scratch the matchstick against the packet and light up the letter. I watch the flames dance over the little piece of Augustine's heart. She'll be fine. I guess this is her way of letting go of the summer we shared. Her heart will be fine too – it's bigger than anyone else's, filled with love, steeped in harmony.

Mine, however, is packed with anxiety. I've been thinking of going back to Elizabeth and apologizing but it just seems too pathetic. I was hoping I would see her at school and have the environment force us into a conversation where I would ask her to forgive me but she moved houses and moved schools. This was a sign she was done with me, right? We haven't texted, haven't seen each other, the only time I was able to look into her eyes after Augustine was in my imagination, making up scenarios of how I would apologize in school. Maybe bring flowers in a bouquet, write a poem, or I would be totally unprepared and only take her hand and ask of her to hear me out. She had the full right not to. After all, it was me who messed up, but it was Inez who saw us and who had brought the news to Betty a month ago.

My phone rings with a notification. I pick up the stupid box on which I've always prouded myself on because it was always new and now? I don't give a penny if it is or it isn't. It doesn't matter.

The message is from my brother who had received an invitation to a party. A certain someone's party – Betty's. She is celebrating getting into her dream college and is inviting everyone in our year to her house today and it starts in 15 minutes.

Would she have me? Would she want me? Would she tell me to go straight to hell or lead me to her backyard garden? And in the garden, would she trust me if I told her, it was just a summer fling? God knows I'm only 17 and I don't know anything.

But I know I miss her, and I can't live with this dense mind with what if's floating around any longer. So, I take the keys once more and run outside to get on the first bus to her house. I've never been more thankful for our reliable network of buses.

The bustling city doesn't help much when we get into a traffic jam so I beg the bus driver to open the doors and I fly out, running towards Betty's new leafy neighbourhood. I run through the quaint streets, as the skyline gets redder and redder. I think I pass the historical heart of the town but I'm not sure.

I stumble in front of a baby-blue painted house. That's Betty's favourite colour. And the right address that it said in the invite.

God, it's finally sinking in.

Right now, is the last time I can dream about what happens when she sees my face again. Will she have me? Will she love me? Will she kiss me on the porch in front of all her stupid friends? If she kissed me, would it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch the wound I made and left wide open?

I ring the bell before my scared legs have the chance to run the other way.

Betty opens the door and stops halfway through doing so.

"Why are you dripping in sweat?" she grimaces with disgust on her face as she looks into my eyes.

I open my mouth and wait for the words to come out, but they don't. I feel like a total idiot just standing there, gaping at her silently.

"Betty, I miss you and the only thing I want is to make it up to you" the words rolled out in one breath from my mouth.

I don't look up as she closes the door.

Then a familiar hand lifts my chin and makes me meet the warmest pair of eyes that I had managed to make them cry.

"When you are young, they assume you know nothing" she takes my hand, "But I knew I'd curse you for the longest time," she laughed as a tear fell to the ground, "and I knew you'd be standing in my porch light."

I closed my eyes tight and let my head touch her forehead lightly.

"Standing in my cardigan,

Kissing in my car again,

Stopped at a streetlight.

You know I miss you."