I couldn't sleep properly last night. I was out for four hours, at the most. In the morning, I was up earlier than usual. My stomach was being troublesome again. I treated myself to cereal and bread. But it didn't help. It wasn't long until I realised that the discomfort I felt wasn't because of an empty stomach.
I went out on the front porch and proceeded to dwell on the events that took place the night before. The memory made my mouth dry.
Eventhough my mother would always call it 'dumb and unnecessary', I have always wondered what it was like to have a boy kiss you. And it wasn't anything like I expected. Obviously because it wasn't with the right person. You're supposed to like that person.
What was I thinking?
It wasn't a proper kiss. In fact, it should be considered harassment. And it was something that would slip Harry's mind in a second. He was intoxicated and obviously, it meant nothing at all to him. And for that reason I should feel violated, shouldn't I?
But I wasn't angry about it. Nor did I feel violated. I was still in the midst of processing it and I wasn't quite sure what to feel.
"Bum rush the speaker that booms, I'm killin' your brain like a poisonous mushroom." My head turned to where the indistinct voice was coming from. I lit up when I spotted a boy with a sling bag stopping at the front gate. He was the mailman.
I felt around my thighs before pulling my letter out. "Hold on!" I called out as I rushed to the gate. He probably didn't hear me as he was bobbing his head and muttering verses of a song, taking no notice of me.
"Excuse me." I panted as I held onto the grills of the gate. The bespectacled boy pulled out the headphones from his ears before pushing the center of the rim of his glasses.
"Hi." He nervously smiled, pressing back his sleek hair.
"Hi, I need you to send this letter to this address." I pointed at the address on the small, crumpled envelope.
"Oh, sure. That's what we do. You could've put it in the mailbox." He chuckled.
"I can't. It's complicated. But could you please?"
"Of course." He grinned. "I could deliver it personally, even."
The boy's gaze suddenly left mine as he looked over my shoulder. His features were questioning and I followed his fixed stare to find Harry on the front porch, his arms folded over his chest. I sighed, venting my distress. Why did he keep popping up without warning?
I quickly turned back to the boy and mouthed at him, "Go."
"Is that a letter?" He pointed at the envelope in the boy's hand as he advanced closer. "May I see that?"
The young mailman looked at me worriedly, his magnified eyes nervously shifting. "I'd like to see that letter." Harry demanded.
"O-Of course." He replied as he handed the letter over to Harry, clearly intimidated by him.
"I miss you, I miss you. I can't wait to get out of this place and..." Harry paused, his grin as wide as ever as he flipped over to the next page. "And what, fall into his muscular arms?" He mocked in a high-pitched voice before glancing back at the letter.
"Harry, I think that's about enough." Mrs Briffen intervened, her face pink with exhaustion from her journey.
"Stop!" Stressed, my hands hovered over to the papers Harry held but his arm stretched up to a height impossible for me to reach.
"I hate this place, I hate all these people." He read out loud, his amusement evidently melting away as his smile weakened.
I realised that Harry had come to the end of the letter, so I stopped trying to snatch the papers away from him. In a way, I liked that he'd read it. I didn't exactly have the courage to express how I really felt about all this, I showed my dissatisfaction in subtle ways but now he knew my innermost thoughts about his father, Richard and him.
Harry didn't utter a single word but a sigh escaped before his lips curved into a smile again, but this time it looked a little forced. I was heartbroken when he held up the papers in my face and tore it down the middle. Mrs Briffen and I both let out small gasps.
I felt rage act up in my system as he chucked the torn pieces of paper to the floor. His features were hard and unrelaxed, I'd made him angry. "Don't you remember what I told you yesterday? You're really pushing it, Thalia."
"What would you do if you were in my place?" I retorted shakily, my vision fogging up as I knelt to the floor and gathered the pieces of paper.
"I'd be a good little girl and be grateful for everything Harry's done for me." He jeered. He stomped over to the entrance door and fumbled with his keys. "I told you there would be ugly consequences." He said before exiting with a loud slam.
I instantly broke into tears. What was Harry going to do now? He was probably going to tell Richard. I was such an idiot for letting this happen. I couldn't bear the thought of my family getting hurt. My mother was already weak as she is. And my brother.... what would he do?
"Dear, calm down. He probably won't do anything. Harry often says things he doesn't mean when he's mad." Mrs Briffen attempted to comfort me as she bent down and put an arm around me.
"He does. He said it yesterday. He meant it." I whimpered, wiping below my eyes.
"What happened yesterday?"
"In the morning... I went out to the phone booth. And he got all mad because I called my family. He threatened that he'd do something to them if I did anything like that again. Apparently he's dead scared that his dad will get in trouble for all the illegal things he's been doing." I paused to sniff and swallow.
"A-And he kissed me... at night. When he came home drunk. But he probably doesn't remember. I don't understand, Mrs Briffen." I continued to say, sending a few loose strands of my hair behind my ear.
"Oh dear..." She covered her mouth with her pudgy hand. "Did um... anything else happen?"
"No, he told me he wouldn't do anything with me."
"He did, did he?" Mrs Briffen sat herself down beside me, patting at her dress to straighten it out. "I understand that you might hate him but you see, child, Harry isn't like his father. You musn't mistake him for someone like Damian. He's just lost and lonely, I reckon and Damian's the only family he's got. So he would do anything not to lose him and the way he goes about things is... rather aggressive."
She smiled, placing her hand on mine. "And as you are well aware, I find him difficult too sometimes but it's just someone he's been moulded into by all the dirt that he's been surrounded with growing up. But Harry isn't like Damian or any of those people."
Harry had arrived home and I found myself crying even harder at the possibility that he'd directly or indirectly done something to my family. My weeping on the balcony had drawn his attention as the footsteps grew louder and louder.
But I couldn't care less what he does. I couldn't contain my emotions anymore.
I heard the glass door slide open but I didn't bother to turn and look. Harry was the last person I wanted to see right now.
But then I felt a grip on my elbow and I was forced to turn. "Stop crying, I can hear you from downstairs!"
"W-What did you do?" I whimpered.
"What did I do? Well, I went to get some frozen yoghurt with my friends and then I went to a club. But I had to come back because Mrs Jones called and said she heard someone crying as she was jogging past the back of the house. " He replied, grasping my arm. "Remember that this place echoes every little sound."
"You... Y-You said-"
"I know I left with a dramatic threat but it was only to scare you. God, don't take things so literally." Harry assured with frustration evident in his voice as he wiped my tears with the back of his thumb. "Now that you know your family isn't dead, go to bed or something. I need to get back to the club."