He who holds the strings

Chapter 10 - Part 1

"I love that you hate me", like lightning those words struck me. I narrowed my eyes in pain. Gabriel's hand was placed over my shoulders.

- Are you sure you're okay? he asked me. Angrily I brush off his hand. Didn't wanna feel his comforting touch.

- I'm fine, I said through gritted teeth. Whether I was trying to persuade him or myself, I didn't know.

We walked the short distance to the church. It had been my own idea from the beginning and everyone had fallen for it. Gabriel had almost predicted that I wanted to return to that very place. Beatrice's comment before the short walk there, was about our first meeting with me. Vendela just followed along without any impact.

Every step we took just made me more and more irritated. The memory of Grandma faded in the face of the anger I felt at the situation. In my memory I could hardly picture her face, my beloved grandmother who raised me. When Gabriel asked where she was buried, I just snorted at him.

I hated his hurt look given after my treatment. I hated that he expected more than I could give him. Why did he burden my shoulders with this responsibility? The responsibility of being close to someone, being forced to put yourself in a relationship that needed care and entertainment. Did he not understand that I was not the guy for the role? Why didn't he give up his effort? No one could teach an old dog to sit.

- We can spend the night there, Vendela said cautiously as darkness began to settle over us. Beatrice and Gabriel nodded in agreement.

I remained silent. We wouldn't make it before nightfall, so I'd have to wait to find Grandma's grave until tomorrow. Beatrice was waiting for me.

- Do you remember the first time we met? she said so quietly that only I would hear it. Why did she bring it up again? I choose to not answer. Just gave her a side look and notice how her fair skin still glowed in the dark in contrast to her otherwise dark features.

If it had only been me, Gabriel and Vendela here, I would probably have jumped forward in joy. But with this contagion called Beatrice, the road ahead felt long.

The church we entered was similar to the church we had just left a few kilometers away. Jesus was painted before us, nailed to the cross. My hands and feet stung when I saw that picture. Vendela had opened some doors in the background and announced that there was enough room for us to sleep.

Gabriel split us up like the previous night. I was led to a room that appeared to be for play. Children's drawings were lined up on the wall. The small chairs and tables that no adult could fit in were placed against the wall. When Beatrice removed from my existence I seemed to be able to breathe free air. Gabriel noticed the difference in my mood.

- Don't let the hate get to your head, he said as he spread the same blanket as the previous night over the floor. Without commenting on his words, I sat down on the floor.

I didn't feel like conversing with Gabriel today, which was an unusual feeling as I usually appreciated it. Something in our relationship had changed recently. All the emotions he put me through in just a few weeks had drained me. Irritation, confusion, disappointment, both psychological and physical experiences. Both positive, but mostly negative which I tried with all my strength to prevent before.

Now that I looked at him, his raven black hair that fell to his forehead, the broad shoulders and long legs. What did I feel then? Resentment? Like I wished him all the way in the world? Or that he would crawl next to me until there was no air between us? I groaned in frustration inside. Burying my face in the bag, I pretended to rummage through it just to prevent him to see my flushed cheeks. After awhile Gabriel stepped out for a second, going to the toilet I thought be said.