The Waiting Game (Lams)

Chapter 11

After I wrote the note a flash of lightning illuminated the room. No. A crack of thunder rocks me. Oh God. I fall to the floor. Please don't. I ball up underneath a small table in the very corner of the room shaking. This can't be happening. Tears start to roll down my face as the memories start to come back...

It smells like death in my home. My mother holds me close to her feverish body as she coughs. My head is pounding and I feel nauseous. I cough as well, not as hard as my mother. She and I are laying on a small cot in our small house in Nevis. She closes her eyes as she coughs again, this time blood comes out of her mouth as well. Her breathing is shallow as she starts to fade.

"Mama!" I cried as I shook her shoulders. "MAMA!" I cry again, hoping to wake her even though I know deep down she won't be opening her eyes ever again. I'll never have another chance to sing with her, to dance around our small kitchen after work. My twelve year old mind was in disbelief as I watched her body be taken away by the police. My cousin picked me up and dragged me to his car as I kicked and screamed for my mother. I had never known such sadness. With my mother she had sheltered me from the worst. She stayed happy for me, kept me from the harshness of reality. With my cousin? What I had known as a colorful, bright world faded to black and white as I learned just how unfair life truly was. I saw the poverty and death and squalor for the first time. Not long after that my cousin killed himself. I never knew why. But I was now all alone. I had no one to take care of me. No one to hold me, no one to comfort me, no one to feed me. I had to do it my self. So I did. I got a job and worked long hours just to buy basic necessities for myself. I lived in squalor still, and I had to steal books to teach myself how to read even better than before to keep up with my job. I started to write son after. I was placed in charge of a trading charter when I was fourteen. The locals all over looked me. They had their own problems. But every so often a kind old woman would smile at me or a broken young boy would nod in my direction. I'd smile back most of the time. But there were days I couldn't force a smile onto my face, days I couldn't muster enough strength wave or nod back. I was fourteen and working more hours than most adults in my small town. Nevis. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the world. Tried to block out the problems, the sadness, the death. But I couldn't. No one was there for me. I was the only person I had.

Again, at 15, I stumbled upon another bout of sorrows. People all around me started disappearing. I saw massive ships leaving at least twice month with less goods than they could carry. Then I found out why they left room on the ships. Slavery. Even in this day and age, people were being taken away with the massive ships that carried exports and now, human fucking beings. Another danger I had to avoid, on top of thieves and sickness and hunger. Not being kidnapped and sold like I was nothing more than property. I never did find out what happened to those poor, unfortunate, souls. I was always wary of my surroundings, always on alert. I kept reading, kept studying, kept working. I turned 16 without blinking an eye. I had no one to celebrate with, no one to give me their love, no one to receive gifts from. The gifts weren't so important to me, not as much as having someone there. Then I turned 17. I didn't, no, I couldn't know what was going to happen. I was tired that day. Rain pelted the streets, the rooftops, the people. Winds swept up hats and papers, pulled umbrellas and leaves along. Then as soon as I got home it happened. Waves crashed against the beach of my island and then from that point, almost everyone else was screwed. I could hear the screams from all around. I held onto the top of my house for dear life. It lasted so long. I lost consciousness on the third day. When I awoke, it was silent except for a tiny crackling stereo in the distance. I slowly got up and walked over towards the noise. I stepped over and around countless bodies of people, children. I saw a young woman clutching a child to her chest. I looked closer. Oh god. It was the young woman who had taken me in for a night when I had no home. She was known for that. In her arms was the newest orphan. The woman's blondish hair was stained with blood, the child looked so vulnerable in her broken arms. I pulled myself along, away from the death. I blocked out the others, unwilling to look at anymore lifeless faces. I pulled myself towards the soft music coming from the stereo that somehow survived the relentless waves and rampant destruction, the death. I couldn't block it out no matter how hard I tried. My legs ached, my arms burned, my head spun, my eyes watered. Tears dripped down my cheeks.

I finally reached the music and sat down. The ground around me was littered with broken glass and scraps of wood. And bodies. I listened to the song. My heart beat faster and I lay down on a ripped up mattress, dragging the small device with me. The song changed.

"I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the lord, but you don't really care for music do ya? It goes like this; the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall the major lift, the baffled king composing halleluiah..." The song sang in a females voice. I had never heard the original, so this was all I knew."

PLAY SONG BEFORE YOU CONTINUE READING!!!

I listened closer. "Baby, I've been here before, I've this room and I've walked this floor, you know, I used to live alone before I knew ya. And I've seen your flag on the marble arch and love is not a victory march, its a cold and its a broken hallelujah..." A few minutes later the song drew to a close and I was full on sobbing. I remembered every single life changing thing that's happened to me. All of the major things were marked by death. My mom. My cousin. My town. But not me. I couldn't seem to die. The hurricane. In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet, for just a moment, of yellow sky. Lightning and thunder crack across the sky during a hurricane as well. My body convulsed with sobs.

"Alex?" Lafayette calls putting a hand at my shoulder. The storm is over. But the heartbreak will never be. Its such a mad, mad world.

HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IM SUPER SUPER SORRY TO DO THIS TO YOU GUYS BUT NO FEAR, ILL PUT UP A SUPER CUTE ONE SHOT TOMORROW AS CHAPTER 11 1/2 I PROMISE!

ShylyAngelic OUT!