When Bluebirds Fly | ✔

Part One : Chapter Twelve

I was chewing the strands of my stiff hair when I woke up feeling groggy. My numb back sent a jolt of pain down my spine as I desperately tried getting up. I stretched my hands helplessly to grasp something, anything, but I only caught air. After countless attempts, I fell back limply and vacantly stared at the white ceiling through a veil of tears which formed from the harsh lights that were stinging my eyes.

I didn't know how long I laid there motionless, sporadically twisting and tossing whenever I let the irritation of the bright lights get hold of me.

"You're up," I heard a raspy voice say and I struggled to find its source. "It's okay, there's no hurry. Sleep love, just sleep."

I was twelve and playing hide and seek with Isaac in his house. He could always find me within seconds and he did that only to receive a stomp on his foot for discovering me. Today, I wasn't going to let him win. I would not hide in the backyard like I usually did, I would find a special place upstairs.

I felt the excitement surge through me as I climbed the stairs and reaching to the nearest door, I twisted the doorknob. It was locked. I shook the doorknob nervously, Isaac nearing the count of twenty downstairs. The door rattled from my shaking and suddenly it was flung open.

Dave stood there looking mildly irritated which evaporated as soon as he saw me. He smirked, leaning lazily against the door frame, his entire body naked. I heard my mother's shout, "Who's there darling?"

My mother had never once called my father 'darling.'

Dave crossed his arms against his chest, his smirk widening. I whirled around and dashed downstairs, puzzled, trying my best to not put the pieces together. The image of Dave's nudity and my mother's deep voice clung in my mind as I repeatedly shook my head.

Dave- Isaac's neighbour and my mother. Inside Isaac's house. Naked. Darling. Darling. Darling. Darling.

Isaac bumped into me on my way, his chest colliding against my head. "Hey, I finished counting."

"Go again, I wasn't ready," I managed to squeak and he groaned, dragging himself back to the living room.

Without glancing back, I rushed home and the nights that followed where I couldn't sleep even past midnight, dad said drowsily, "Sleep mija. It's okay, there's no hurry. You can sleep even at three or four or five or six . . . Just sleep."

I got up with arduous efforts and through the curtain of my hair, I saw a trail of ants marching to the coffee table. They feasted on the crumbs of biscuits around a photo frame where all smiling heads in the picture seemed to merge into one. I pressed my feet hard on the floor and my hands hard on the cardboard like sofa, lifting my butt. Soon, I found myself standing.

"There you go," I heard the same raspy voice again and a face with pepper hair flashed before me. I tripped over an empty can on my way to the door, clutching my own frock which appeared more black than purple. There was someone's vice-like grip around my right arm which I tried to claw at, but I couldn't get it off. I moaned at my discomfort- at how the strong hand felt against my soft arm, how my body felt all sweaty and damp and rigid like my joints were steel rods, how my dishevelled, needle-like strands of hair continuously pricked my watery eyes and how the net fabric of my frock made my legs itch.

I stumbled into the corridor and instinctively reached for the door of my house, the door next to my house instantly slamming shut.

"Mariana?" My father opened the door and I lurched forward. He quickly caught me by my waist. "What happened? Where were you?!"

I scrambled against my dad and brushed past him, swaying on my feet.

"You can't show up this late and not speak up! I was sick worried about you!" he snapped harshly and followed me angrily to my bedroom. "You return in this wasted state, fucking drunk out of your mind at ten in the night and I know nothing! Who the hell were you with? Where---"

"Get a fucking job papá!" I screamed, collapsing on my bed. My throat burned from the aftermath of a terrible screech which seemed to resonate in my dad's ears because he looked like a monstrous shock had possessed him. I wondered why as I shut my eyes, the image of my startled father drilling into my chaotic mind.

* * *

I woke up for the second time, feeling disoriented and out of place. I blinked at the blue walls of my small room, they appeared to rise high above me, higher and higher as if there was no ceiling and the walls formed a cone above. But only they didn't and as I tried to search for their ending, my vision became obscure and all I could see was an amalgamation of blue and white.

I closed my eyes again and saw my father with his wide eyes and the betrayed look on his face. Next to him, I saw a twelve-year-old me, teary-eyed and afraid. Somehow, I always felt responsible for my mother's cheating because I never reported it to my father. I kept it a sore secret until she ran away with Dave, leaving my father to deal with a plethora of unanswered questions. To stay silent felt equally bad as committing a sin.

I was too bothered to remain asleep so I woke up for the third time and I could see the ceiling. My room was darker than before and the blue walls shorter. My limbs felt more flexible as I walked straight into the bathroom and stripped until I was completely bare. I showered in boiling hot water which definitely damaged my firm hair and olive skin, but I was nearly dead with fatigue to maintain a proper temperature. I lathered my red body with soap and the shower had to stop working at that exact time, so I poured water with a mug which filled slowly from the thinning stream flowing through the pipe.

I wiped myself vigorously till I was absolutely dry, hating the wetness that stuck to me since God knew how many hours. My eyes were drooping as I slipped in an oversized t-shirt and leggings. My entire house was dead silent and I could hear my own light footsteps as I stepped outside. My legs wobbled when I looked at the next door. I hastily turned away and took a deep breath.

I scuttled downstairs, my heart pounding in my chest and fresh sweat breaking out on my forehead. It felt as if I was running from two, gigantic invisible hands ready to seize me. I hurried on the streets too, the fear only growing with each step.

Nothing was wrong, Mariana. Nothing went wrong last night.

I was flustered when I entered Bailey's Nuts, trying to calm the wild beating of my heart. I was warmly greeted by the manager's storm of spit since I was late by almost half a day. Once I was done with that ritualistic bath, I headed for the pantry, ignoring Isaac's attempts to talk to me. I needed to be alone yet I didn't know why I chose to show up here out of all the possible places.

Lola and Tony in the pantry let me be quiet as I gorged on a large, glazed doughnut. Just as I finished with the last bit, Allison charged in with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. Her blonde hair was left down which swung around her as she burst out, "Tony! That cute boy outside said you were with your girlfriend- Mariana!" Her accusatory look shifted to me and more tears spilled out. "I hate you both! I hate you Mariana! F-Fuck you!"