Soulmate

Chapter 18: Hollow

Alexander

    As soon as we got home, I went to my basement to change, texted Patrick, and then I ran out the door. My parents better love me, although I'm sure Mom will be a little bit upset. It was hard to say what would make her feel the best. Me staying around on her day, or her and my dad having a little bit of time together. I guess it doesn't really matter anyways because either way, one of my parents is going to be happier than the other.

    I didn't give Patrick the chance to tell me if I could come over, I just drove as fast as I could. I was speeding through town when I saw that stupid blue Ford parked at the grocery store. It was tempting, I wanted to stop, but I was trying to be a better guy; I had to be. She shouldn't matter, whoever she is, because she's simply a girl, and she's not my soulmate.

    My car came to a screeching halt as I stopped a little ways from Patrick's apartment building. He had called me, but I didn't answer. I just went right up. Anyone can walk in or out, the doorman didn't pay attention, but why should he? This place was a dump and the society probably would love if it burned down. The only bad part would be that Patrick and Sharla wouldn't have anywhere to live, but I think they would be better off.

    As I made my way up the stairs, I could hear a woman yelling, probably at her children. Finding your soulmate is supposed to make you happy, but the stress of money and living in a horrible home is still there. People get so stressed out because we are all still under the pressure of living luxuriously. The economy is better, but there were people who struggled; there just aren't as many of them to worry about. Sadly, one of those people was my best friend.

    I pounded on his door; I was exhausted and I wasn't even sure why. My whole body felt like collapsing. Hopefully, he didn't want to do anything, so I could just sit on his couch and play video games. Anything to keep my mind off my mother. It was hard to take care of her, and I hadn't even done anything to help.

    When he answered the door, the first thing that I noticed were the dark circles under his eyes. He looked worse than he did yesterday, but he tried to smile like he was okay. "Hey, next time I call you, you should answer," he grumbled as he led me into the apartment. There were clothes on the floor and my shoes Sharla took were the only thing neatly stacked.

    "Yeah, well sorry. I didn't really care," I replied, wondering how their apartment had fallen apart in a day. It seemed like forever ago that I had been here, but it was really only yesterday morning. I flopped down on his couch and asked, "Hey, where is Sharla?"

    He sat down next to me, and let out an irritated sigh; he probably really didn't want me around. "She got pissed at me, for who knows what, so she went to the college to, I guess, 'study' for her test, or so she said," he grumbled, but I could tell he was worrying about her.

    I raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn't seem to notice because he was staring at his TV which remained off. "What? Are you worried she's partying? You know she wouldn't do that without you. She probably really does have a test," I tried to reassure him. We both knew Sharla, but I also knew she was spiteful, and it was likely she would party to piss him off.

    He leaned back and turned on the TV, I could tell he didn't want to talk about it, but he would anyways. "I hate that she's unhappy. I want her to be happy living here with me, but she's not. And I can't do a damn thing about it," he complained, he shoved a controller into my hands, and grabbed one for himself.

    It was a mutual understanding, if he wanted to talk about her, then he would, but if not, then we would just play our game in silence. Life wasn't supposed to be this way, but that was the sad reality for some soulmates. Life was tough, and it was still hard for most of us even with happiness.

***

    When I came home, it wasn't too late, but most of the lights in my house were turned off. I was a little afraid to walk in, what if my mother was worse than earlier? All I could do was hope she was okay as I opened the door and walked in. The only light came from the TV in the living room and, of course, it was the news. My mom didn't enjoy the news, so it had to be my dad. If I could have, then I would have sneaked down to my basement, but I knew he heard me as soon as the door clicked shut.

    "Hey, Alex, could you come in here?" he called, but his voice remained level, he was trying not to yell. The TV clicked off and I made my way into the living room. He had been sitting in his leather chair, but he stood up. He wasn't in his church clothes anymore, surprisingly enough he was in a t-shirt and sweatpants. I haven't seen him in casual clothes since I was little.

    "What did you need?" I asked, trying not to be snide about it. It was hard for me to simply talk to him; I don't remember where our hatred stemmed from. We were always butting heads, and it's probably one of the reasons my mother hasn't gotten better.

    He looked at me, his face was stone cold because he didn't like to show his emotions since he had his own mental breakdown. "I wanted to thank you. Your mother and I had a nice day, not that we don't enjoy your company. You know what I mean," he rambled. I've never heard him struggle for words; he usually had them planned out.

    I smiled a little, but it was hopefully too dark for him to see. "How is she?" I asked because I would really prefer to stay innocent. I don't want to know what my parents were doing when I wasn't around. Disgusting.

    He looked over towards his room, and I wondered why he was even out here instead of there with her. "She worried about you, but I think she's doing better. Just having you around, I think, helps her. She wanted me to wait up for you," he explained, and then I knew this wasn't by choice, he was only pleasing my mom.

    "Well, I hope she gets better. Goodnight," I grumbled as I shifted my weight. I started to walk away from him because there was nothing else I had to say. I was glad he spent time with Mom; she needed something to make her happy.

    "Goodnight," he replied, his voice was hollow as I walked through the dark kitchen. I could see a few dishes in the sink and was glad that my mother took a break from cleaning.