Swooped | ✓

Chapter 31: The Egg Before the Chicken

Sometimes, there was a niggle at the back of my mind wondering what it would be like to just... not try. To not stick the landing, to just... let go. To close my eyes, feel the air and just...

Fall, and not get back up.

I began toeing the cement roof of the building we were on, my Vans kicking at some dislodged rubble, the rocks scuttling across the ground leaving behind small plumes of debris.

"I have to head home now, Culver," Geoff suddenly sighed, squinting at his phone.

"Mother Go?" I asked, Geoff nodding glumly.

"Yeah. She's starting to end her texts with full stops now, which means she is not happy. Oh no, now she's asking me to buy some beef on the way home, but she also wants me to get home in thirty minutes," Geoff said, face slowly morphing into one of significant terror. "Shit, I gotta go, dude."

"Yeah, run for your life, man," I said, holding back my amused grin as Geoff gave me pleading eyes, genuinely scared of his mother and her rice paddle.

"See you at school on Monday?" Geoff asked as he grabbed his backpack from the ground, slinging it over one shoulder.

"Uh, if I can wake up," I said, Geoff snickering. We bumped fists and crashed together in a one-armed hug before Geoff was leaping across the roofs of some lower-lying buildings, his bright red jacket disappearing amongst the grey. 

The sun was beginning to set, but I didn't want to leave just yet. It wasn't like any one was waiting for me at home with a rice paddle, or any one waiting at home for me period. Mum and dad had jetted off two days ago to South America on the chase for some rare birds, mum starting a new book about the avian creatures of the region. They had left me in the care of my Aunt and Uncle, but, well, they had four kids of their own ranging from a perpetually stroppy seventeen-year-old to a bed-wetting five-year-old, so they often forgot that they had a fifth child to watch over.

Maybe things wouldn't have been so bad if I had stayed with Harriet like I usually did, but she was on an animal conservation trip interstate. She had offered to drop the trip, but that would've been ridiculous, since I knew how much she wanted to go.

So, I hung around on the roof tops, slinging my legs over the ledge of the roof and rolling a joint, lighting up. I kicked my legs in the air, my phone resting on the ledge beside my thigh with some music tinkling out from its speaker. There was an odd, unsettled feeling in my chest that I couldn't quite place. Something didn't feel right, my fingers unable to keep still, my mind seemingly on edge for no reason. 

It had dawned to me on the third drag of my joint that this was the first time both my parents and Harriet hadn't been here to look after me. I had just turned sixteen, and I was apparently mature enough to figure things out with my Aunt and Uncle. Usually, only mum would leave on her trips and dad would stay and look after me, or if he was really required to take photographs alongside my mother he would go and Harriet would stay over for the week. 

The joint resting between my fingers shook a little as I took a drag, my efforts to still the irritating tremor doing nothing but spur it on. 

I remembered sending my parents off at the airport, dad giving me a tight hug and promising to call daily, and mum's eyes looking a little watery as she kissed my forehead, boarding pass and passport tucked under her arm pit. I had let them go through security with a tight smile and an airy good-bye, wishing them a safe flight under my breath. I had learnt to hold it in, those feelings tucked away deep, deep down. I could control it. I could, not like last time.

"Do you have to go?" I asked, cursing myself for the pathetic little hitch in my voice, scratchy and high. My eyes darted across the floor at mum's lace-up boots and dad's daggy sneakers, my Converse-clad foot tapping up and down on the speckled ground. I had never particularly liked it when either of my parents would leave on trips, but it wasn't as hard to deal with when I was younger, when I didn't really know what was going on. Things were always easier as a kid.

Now, though, the thought of them leaving - all of them - made my heart squeeze so tightly I couldn't breathe. Air. Air. I need air.

"Culver, darling?" mum whispered, kneeling down a little to look at my hung face, gasping when she saw my eyes squeezed shut tightly, eyelashes wet and my face drawn tight as I sucked in shallow breaths that didn't seem to do anything. "Oh God, what's the matter, honey?"

"I don't want you to go, I don't want you to leave," I choked, the sound strangled, and I still couldn't get enough air. There were some whispers trickling around us, and I rubbed my eyes, looking up. There were some people staring at me, this tall, grown kid bawling his eyes out and struggling to breathe because his parents were going on a trip. A sob escaped my mouth, the sound muffled by my hands as I tried to push it back, back, back.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," mum said, face aghast as she took me in, pulling me into her arms. "Oh, I wish you told us earlier, we would have turned the publishers and the uni down ages ago.  Peter, could you call Sam? It's probably best to stay home, or at least, postpone the trip. They'll understand, it's for family." 

Tucked against my mum's chest, I wrapped my arms around her, trying to breath and not cry but failing at both. Failing, failing. Always failing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I cried, mum shushing me gently, rubbing my back, her suitcase forgotten by her side as I heard dad mumbling on the phone.

"Shh, it's okay, Dove. Let's go home, I'll make us some milkshakes and we can watch a movie. How does that sound?"

I nodded, mum pressing a kiss to the crown of my head, and I felt happy and safe and childish and guilty and so, so useless.

The next day I could hear mum on the phone with the trip organiser, apologising profusely for setting back plans, delaying the potential release of the book and having to deal with changed flights and accommodation. I could see my parents give each other stressed looks as I drank my chocolate milkshake, which didn't seem so sweet any more.

 My joint was basically depleted, and I snuffed it out beside my phone, sliding it into a pocket in my cargo pants. I stood up, smiling a little at the vibrant colours of the orangey-red horizon, made more brilliant by the fog of weed. I looked at a distant roof top that was far away, but not too far. No, it wasn't too far away at all. Or was it?

I guess I would never know, unless I tested it out.

That nice, electric feeling washed over me and I licked my chapped lips, taking a step back, then two, then three, and then more until my heel hit the edge of the opposite end of the rooftop.

And then I ran. 

Feet pounded the rooftop, dust kicking up as I leapt.

I was flying, basically flying, until I wasn't.

Ah, the rooftop is too far away.

I slammed against the side of the building I was aiming for, groaning as I tried to grab onto the edge of the roof, but only managing to swing a little to slow my imminent descent. I dropped to the ground, crying out as I landed on my right arm. There was a crack, and then pain shot up everywhere, a never-ending spark. 

I cried at the pain, and I think I found myself laughing too, but I couldn't really tell. It hurt, I knew it hurt, and I screamed as I sat up and jostled my arm. The red on it was really bright, more vibrant than the sky, a pretty brush of crimson that split down my arm like art.

I was laughing through my tears when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and I cried away the laughter when I tried to reach for it, struggling through the pain and the haze. I answered the phone, my choked 'hi' met with silence, before something was unleashed in a stream of German. The rapid words, rough Rs and scrape of a chair screeching back were followed by a stripped voice in English, dipped in an accent that made me drop my head back on the ground, grinning.

"Where the fuck are you, C?"

Everywhere and nowhere.

Because how could nobody be anywhere?

A/N: If any one is going through a hard time, please don't hesitate to reach out. Times are tough right now, and I hope every is staying safe and healthy xx