When Bluebirds Fly | ✔

Part One : Chapter Eleven

I couldn't fathom why I was smiling the entire way back home from the bus stop as if I was a puppet and an unknown master was pulling the strings to my lips. My face felt hot as I climbed the stairs, feeling a rush of thrill with each step. Things didn't certainly go as I had planned . . . I was getting a sibling, but things did go as I had hoped. The torrential rain would have devastated the dainty decorations of the wedding and the guests would have been compelled to go home.

Moreover, Isaac. However bizarre it sounded, I enjoyed his company and at least, I had come back home laughing. I had thought that I would return home sobbing on Sam's shoulder in the bleak bus ride.

I arrived outside my home and sorely realised that I had forgotten to carry the keys with me. I was supposed to come late, but of course, I didn't want to wait there any longer, witnessing how content my mother was with her replacement family.

"What's up?" Abel asked in his typical hoarse voice as he emerged from the stairwell.

My shoulders sagged in exhaustion. "I forgot to bring the keys."

"You can come and stay at my place till your dad shows up," he offered quickly, without any hesitation.

"No it's fine, I'll just hang around somewhere," I kindly declined, but he persisted.

"Don't feel awkward, you're not going to disturb me or anything. Your father would appreciate if you didn't roam around alone here."

I was definitely not going to lurk near my apartment to get raped or murdered. I had common sense since Sam wasn't home, I was probably going to head off to Allison's place. She loved it when I came over, her mother loved it more. Sometimes, we would have sleepovers where we three gathered and played UNO cards the entire night. I deeply cherished my sleep, the only place where I was optimistic enough to dream. But I had to admit, those sleepovers were fun, in spite of her mum awkwardly joining in. She reminded me much of Lola, pretending to understand teenagers and wanting desperately to mingle with them so she could be cool. That amused me thoroughly.

However, I was drained today. I could feel my muscles sucking the energy out of me with the tiniest movement possible. Besides, I was sticky and my thrifted dress was ruined. Allison's mother would be mortified to find me in this state. Anyway, she felt pity for the poverty I lived in. The last thing I wanted was to march around their grand house looking poorer and filthier than ever.

"Cool, he should come in an hour or so," I said absently, following him in his room. "Did you settle in properly? Those boxes were too many to fit in here."

"I had to get rid of half of them." He switched on the lights and my eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the excess brightness. There were oddly too many bulbs in his house. "You can sit here."

"Thanks." I tried to make myself comfortable on his couch, but it was too hard. Like there was no cotton underneath, but stiff cardboard. I sat upright, inspecting his place. Nothing peculiar, the regulars in any house, a small television, a coffee table and this couch. The coffee table wasn't placed in the centre of the living room as one would expect, it was right next to the couch which made the room appear spacious.

"Here." Abel handed me a can of coke and took a short sip from his own one.

"Again, thanks." I took a gulp and instantly felt refreshed. "That's your family?"

His gaze flickered to the photo frame on the coffee table, an open packet of biscuits was randomly occupying the space surrounding the picture.

"Yeah, got kicked out by my wife. She said I can only return when I bring home money," he said candidly, slumping beside me. "I miss them, not my wife so much, not at all. But my kids. Riley here turned seven last month and Susie will be four in three months."

"They look adorable," I commented, finishing the can.

"They are. For them, I can do anything to get out of here. Anything."

"Anything?" I questioned, my voice coming out a bit squeaky.

"Yes," he replied darkly and his hand rested on my thigh. I didn't realise when he had started touching me there, I was feeling a little lost like the time when I was with Isaac on the bus and tracing the raindrops trickling down the misty window. I could still hear the soft melody in the background, so calm. "You said you would help me right? You said you would help me, Mariana. You would help me get out of here."

My eyelids grew heavy and I pushed his hand with considerable efforts, but it didn't budge. His rough hand began to rub my bare thigh as if he was soothing me, but I didn't like it there. My purple frock had already ridden high up, the net material of the skirt bunching at my crotch. I pulled it down but to no avail. It seemed to be stuck somewhere and I couldn't figure out where. So I tried standing up, perhaps I was sitting on it, but my legs wobbled. 

"Don't go, you said you would help me," Abel reiterated gruffly and I couldn't grasp what he was saying.

I kept whispering what? what? what? in a high-pitched, shrill voice that didn't belong to me. My hand holding the empty can was trembling so I simply dropped it and watched it roll on the tiled floor. The sound of it colliding against the floor rattled in my ears and continued rattling even after it had halted.

I was easily pushed back to the cardboard sofa as my head rested against an equally hard cushion. I moved my head from right to left, left to right and few strands of my wet hair went in my mouth. I didn't know whether they were wet from the rain or my saliva, but they were too straight and pointy like flexible needles. I struggled to get it out with my tongue because whenever I brought my hands to my face, they were shoved back down.

I laid there for some minutes, staring at the white ceiling, trying my best to collect my thoughts. But the blinding brightness from too many bulbs made my eyes sensitive. I closed them and failed to open them again. I could see an orange light when I squeezed my eyes shut which immediately spread all around me and I squirmed in discomfort. I hated so much light, I hated that they had the ability to overpower me. Control me. Bend me to their merciless will. I wouldn't allow myself to be a mere dot that they could engulf like a fat frog swallowing a whole insect. The orange slowly faded into black when I managed to turn my throbbing head with strenuous efforts and a pair of calloused hands crawled up my damp legs.