"Dude you have a sister? Since when?" A friend of Leo's asks eagerly when Leo greets him at the door. I look over at the two of them and see Leo put a hand over the other guy's mouth in attempt to shut him up. There's not a doubt in my mind telling me they were speaking about me over the phone when I first arrived. I sit on the couch munching on an apple with the new phone resting on my thigh. I gave up on trying to figure out how the stupid device works a while ago, then I got hungry and saw an apple in the fridge but as I munch on the apple my mind wanders eventually leading me to think of Carson and now I'm lost deep into my thoughts remembering his face, his words, his scent, the way he laughed. It confuses me why he let me go so easily. Well he obviously knew about the whole Alan thing, it was an act. Duh. A random voice states inside my head. I could be wrong, but I could be just as right. He wouldn't do that, would he? I try to think back to anything that could have lead me to being suspicious of him, but he seemed too surprised when he found out what his father was doing to have something to do with it. However he did say things like "I know" and "I told him not to" that clearly means he knew, but the reason behind it is what I am trying to figure out before I make assumptions.
My thoughts disappear when Leo and Elijah? Enter the room. "Wow! She is hot! Holy-" Leo's eyes go wide and he sends his friend a death glare. I crinkle my nose and look at whatever his name is who has his gaping at me. "Elliot! Shut up and back off! She is unavailable." Ah, Elliot is his name. I wonder how Leo knew about Carson, or maybe he didn't, maybe it was just because Elliot is being a immature creep. I begin to think of Carson again, continuously asking myself weather I am "available" or not. Elliot isn't ugly, but he isn't Carson, you can tell right off the bat that he's a player; I just sure hope Leo isn't like that as well. Elliot's eyes scan me until Leo shoves him away in the other direction towards to towering stair case giving me a quick wave signaling he will be upstairs with Elij-Ellio- whatever the weirdo's name is.
My father comes into the ginormous living room with a few papers in his hand. He wears a different uniform from when I first met him, this one is still the same Navy blue color and still has the same writing and symbols printed on it, it just looks more immitating than the one back in the States. His facial hair has begun to grow only to the point where it looks like he hasn't shaved in 2 or 3 days. He looks at me, "are you ready?" I jump up from my spot of the couch holding my apple in one hand and my phone in the other.
"Where to?" I ask curiously. My father runs a hand through his hair keeping his eyes on the papers in his other hand. The familiar actions causes my stomach to drop. I should be mad at him, I should be. He let me go so easily not caring what could happen to me; maybe he doesn't realize he won't ever see me again. But I'm not mad. In fact, I don't feel any part of me blaming him at all for anything which is strange. At the moment I miss him more then anything as if it wasn't him breaking us apart.
Marc still hasn't responded to my question, but I quickly forget about that topic and bring up another one. "Do you by any chance happen to have the number of Carson Hollins?" I ask cautiously; I need to learn how far my father can go until he reaches the breaking point.
"The boy who flipped his lid when I mentioned his father?" Marc raises a brow looking at me questioning weather he guess right or not. I press my lips into a line. That's not exactly how I wanted him to remember Carson.
"Um, yeah." I feel awkward asking for Carson's number. I can't discover what exactly makes me feel nauseous, maybe it's the fact that Marc-my father- has been hunting Carson's father down as well as me and my mother for years, or maybe it's just weird talking to your dad about your boyfriend? Do all girls feel like this, or this is another thing to add to my list of things that make me weird?
"Honey, I don't know if I can share that." He says shaking his head. My facial expression becomes hard.
"Dad." I say sternly without thinking. His head shoots up and his eyes become hopeful when I call him dad. But I correct myself, "Marc." His eager facial featurs turn into a frown. I feel a naseous feeling in the bottom of my stomach, how did I let myself just call him dad? I suddenly am unable to speak. Like my throat had closed and my tongue has disappeared. I swallow hard trying to think of what to say and how do to it without throwing up. But I think of Carson, all by himself in the United States, thounsads of miles away with a father who could be brought to jail once again, and no mother to comfort him. As mad as I should be at him, I know I should be the one to comfort him even if he's made mistakes, even when he let me go, he did it but he will learn from it, eventually. And as of nopw, I need to be there, we all make mistakes, we're all human, that's just who we are
"Please," I whisper. My eyes sting just picturing Carson's painful expression looking at the ground wondering so many things that no one has the answers for. I too, wonder things that at the moment I can't have an answer for. Is he trhinking about me? Wishing he didn't let go so easily? I sure hope so. "I need to talk to him. And I don't mean it in some snotty teenage girl's way like if I don't my life will be 'over.' I mean that I need to talk to him, because I can't take this anymore."
Marc looks at me dead in the eyes. We stand in the kitchen having a stare off. I show every bit of plead I have in my eyes, begging him with my expression because my words have died out, like stars, after they've given up. Marc's expression is emotionless, but his voice is deadly. "He's dangerous." He says in a low, slow tone, sending shivers down my spine. I'm angry but not the kind of angry that makes you clench your fists and fills your lungs with fire, no. I'm the type of angry thats makes your fingers numb, the kind that makes your voice shake and your emotions crash down along with the barrier holding your tears back.
"That's your opinion."
"It's not Sara! I don't want to yell at you or tell you you're wrong, but you just don't understand how much the world can make you think one thing when really it's hiding behind a mask, ready to reveal itself when you're are your weakest."
"But you didn't know him! You think he's a monster like everyone else." I try and fight back, I try to defend him like he would me. But. . . it's hard because maybe. . . I am wrong? After all I never really saw the world like anyone else. I was kept from it, I was told such bad things about it, and finally after so long I can finally see it, I can finally know the truth and have an opinion for my own but. . . is that what I want? It's all for the better. Right?
"Honey, he was apart of this!" He throws his hands in the air raising his voice as if his were breaking down trying to keep in the truth. But he let it out, and I heard it. "Sara, that boy, was apart of this! He was ordered to find you, manipulate you! Mae you think he could be trusted, and just like that, you might be gone to the world!" My breathe stops inhaling and exhaling. My lungs stop trying to breathe and my heart gives up. He was apart of this, I think. He was messing with me. He was nothing more than a piece to this project. I lost all feeling in my limbs and my feels. He came in and made me change in ways I didn't think were possible even in the little time that I knew him. But he opened up to me, was that all a lie? Am I really that gullable?
"What the hell! Now you sound like mom!" Marc takes a step back, a shocked expression on his face. That clearly got him. "I need some time please," I croak as I push past Marc and run out the door running down the street until I think I'm far enough. I have no idea where I am now but all I know is that I went in the same direction the whole time. I took no turns or sudden short cuts so that should help me get home. I hope. I sit on the curb infront of a resturaunt and cry. Let all my feelings that I've been holding onto for so long escape, showing that I'm a person, I am not some emotionless robot who can take anything thrown at them. I'm human, thats all I am, thats all I ever was, and I'm slowly breaking to someone who can't even live a little anymore.
Carson was everything I thought he was. Before and after I knew him. He was a mystery, but he was someone who had a story of his own, he was someone you could rely on, someone you felt like if you lost them, you would be no one anymore. I always knew no one would understand me, but he came crashing into my life. he let himself in. But that was only because he was forced to. It was because it an order, and later he would get some kind of reward maybe. But I never meant anything to him, I never made any impact on his life, I guess thats okay for him because I didn't leave a scar. Not that I would anyway. But, he left a scar on me, a big one. That has a whole story of it's own.
HHHHEEEEEYYYYYYY!!!!!!!! Sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes in this chapter, I'm typing this on my ipad keyboard thingy and I still need to get used to this. I have an ipad mini meaning the keyboard case is smaller so I'm not used to this... anyway, I have to go catch a flight with my mom soon, we are going to Chicago. Reason behind that is very long... but I'll tell you because my neighbor is staring at me (im outside typing this) and I have nothing better to do. So basically, my cousin had convinced me to read divergent a little over a year ago, and that's when my life changed. I discovered that reading wasn't a burden and it was something that meant so much to me. I realized how much books spoke to me and how you could relate to these characters so much and reading for me is like a way to escape the cruel reality, and I don't know, it's hard to explain but reading is just... it's so refreshing. And so the reason we are going to Chicago is to visit the places where divergent was filmed.. it's my late birthday present but I'm super excited.. Writing on the other hand was something I always loved. I always loved writing class and at eery chance I could get I would tell a story weather it was stupid or made sense... i just never truly discovered my true passion until wattpad.... :)