The teacher was not here. We were supposed to do our own work. From where I sat, I could see Dion going from table to table, giving out something that looked like cards to my classmates. She would pause to talk to some of them or flash them a smile before fluttering to the next table in a graceful and unhurried manner.
"A masquerade party tonight? That'll be fun!" Jolin's words travelled to my ears.
Party. I have never been to one. I tore my eyes away from my elated classmates and started doodling mindlessly on my notebook with a heavy, sinking feeling. There's no way I'll be invited. After several occassions of rejecting offers made by my classmated to parties and outings, they have stopped trying to include me in their activities. I'm a no-fun, they had commented. Besides, my mum would never grant me the autonomy. Maybe it's better this way. I won't have to wrack my brain for new excuses to reject their offer even when I badly longed to nod my head and say yes. That thought itself comforted me. A little at least.
"Fortis?" a voice broke my train of thoughts.
I looked up from the messy stars sketches to see Dion with her hand outstretched, holding a beautifully decorated card inches away from my face. You are invited. The three tempting words beckoned me. A surge of suppressed excitement bubbled inside of me. As fast as the excitement came, it was extinguished by the thought of my mother. I swallowed hard, preparing myself to once again say the words that I thoroughly detest now.
"No thank y..." before I could finish my words, I was interrupted.
"There's no more exams to prepare for. Come on. Just enjoy yourself alright? Convince your mother. Treat it as a break," she smiled encouragingly.
My face heated up. She saw through my excuses. Do the others know it all along too?
"Just come okay? I hope to see you there," she placed the invitation card on my table and shot me a wink before walking away.
For the first time in years, a genuine smile found its way to my face as I gripped the edge of the invitation card tightly. A flicker of hope rekindled in my heart. I will convince my mother. Please. Just this once.
After the bell that signalled the end of school rang, I stuffed my books into my bag and made my way to the gate hastily. My mother would be there on the dot, waiting for me. Any extra delay in time would incur an 'interrogation' when I got back home.
I gave my mum a thin smile when I saw her and she waved back in reply. The walk home was full of brooding for me. How am I supposed to approach the subject? What if she rejected it immediately? Should I just toss the card away and pretend that it never happened? I tugged at the clover-shaped necklace hanging around my neck.
"Did something happen in school?" my mother asked, concern etched across her features.
"No, nothing at all..." I replied a little too quickly and my mother gave me a lingering gaze before adverting it to the route in front of us. I released a small sigh of relief. She won't be expecting answers from me. Not until we get home. Until then, I'll think of how to broach the subject.
She hung the keys on the key rack and slumped on the couch. I went to join her with my heart in my mouth. I still hadn't thought of how to bring the matter up. I cleared my throat before I spoke. "I'm seventeen mum."
So? I could read it from her raised brow. My heart was hammering in my chest as I struggled to find the most appropriate words to use.
"You see...I was invited to a masquerade party by my..." I searched for the right description. "Friend. Can I?" I figured that 'friend' would give me more chance than just a 'classmate' in this context.
"No," the answer came clear and resolute, shattering any hope within me.
"Why not?" I questioned silently, trying not to sound hysterical.
"Look, I can get you new books instead. You have always wanted the new book right? The one just published," she tried to change the subject but I refused to let it slide.
"It's not about that mum, I'm old enough to make my own friends and spent time with them. What you're doing, it's not fair to me..." I gripped the edge of the couch as I spoke, as though it would give them the strength to continue this conversation. I have never been out with anyone else other than my mother. Not even to any educational trip organized by the school as a class. My mother would take me there personally. It has to be with her and only her.
"I said no. Anything else but that," she set her jaw in a firm line.
I chewed the insides of my cheeks before I questioned, "At least tell me why? Give me the reason why I can't live like any other sixteen-year-old."
"You're different from them," she injected.
"How different?" I knew what I'm doing was escalating the tension between us but I felt the need to know. I deserved to know. She stared blankly ahead, showing no intention of giving me an answer.
"Mum please," I insisted, the last of my patience ebbing away as time passed.
"You don't need to know," she turned away from me stubbornly.
Pent up frustration and anger rushed to the surface and I stood up. "Is it because of dad? Is it because he's dead and that's why I'm different?" I cried out in utter frustration, all rigors thrown out of the window.
What happened next was too quick for me to process. Every part of me burnt. I'm not sure which burnt more though-my left cheek, my internal emotions or my eyes which were stinging with hot tears.
Her fury faltered as I blinked the tears away. "He..he's not dead!" she placed great emphasis on her last two words.
I turned away and stormed to my room, rather indignant. Not wanting any more confrontation, I bolted the door. I need to breathe. I dove into my bed, generating a squeak which annoyed me more than usual. Why can't she accept the fact that he's dead? I mean, he has never appeared before me before so he must be dead right?Would things come to this if he were still with us? Would everything be better? Why can't she just tell me the truth? I wiped at my cheeks angrily and stuck my earpiece in my ear, playing a random song from my ipod at full blast. Not loud. Definitely not loud enough. Even at full blast, it did little to tune out the thoughts in my head. I snatched the earpiece away and buried it under my pillow. With a thousand questions flooding through my head, I slipped into a dreamless slumber.
I woke up to the sound of metal gates. Sitting up groggily, I winced at my aching neck. I had dozed off in an awkward position, I realised. Just then, my phone vibrated and the screen lit up. Holding my phone with one hand, I read the text message from my mother more than once before the events rushed back to me.
"I went out for last-minute work. I'll be back at 10pm sharp. Let's have a good talk after that, once both of us have cooled down. I'll explain things to you, I promise."
Explain. The word loomed above everything else and I stared hungrily at it. I would get the answers to questions that have been bugging me for years tonight. I had to fight back the urge to request for my mother to come back right away. 'Ok' my fingers flew across the screen as I typed and hit the send button. Then, I placed my iPhone back on my bedside table and glanced up at the clock.
7:50. There's still plenty of time before my mother's return. I fished out my notebook from my bag with the intention of sketching. Sketching does wonders to me. It helped to take my mind off troubles momentarily. As I flipped the book open, a flash of silver caught my attention. I groaned. I had completely forgotten that I had wedged it between the pages of my notebook. I crushed the invitation card and lifted my hand to toss it into the small bin but my fingers refused to listen. They clung onto the piece of paper stubbornly. Stupid fingers. I uncrumpled the invitation card and smoothed it with my hands as best as I could. The masquerade party started at 7:10pm and it would end at 12:00am. I have about two hours. Two hours. I could always catch a glimpse of the masquerade party to see what it's like and return home before ten, the devil in my head suggested. My mother wouldn't know if I come back before she does right? Just a look will do, I promised myself. Without further hesitation, I threw my wardrobe open and picked out the first outfit that I saw.
It was an oversized white sweatshirt which showed a little of my right shoulder and I threw on a fitting dark blue jeans. I slipped my phone in my pocket and ran my fingers through my long black hair in an attempt to look presentable. I was about to leave the house when I remembered that it was a masquerade party. Who would go to one without a mask? I'm sure I have a mask in my drawer somewhere. After rummaging through my drawer, I found it and smiled. It was a simple silver mask that came free with a book I had bought a year ago. This would have to do for now. It's a good thing that my mother only locked the lock as I did not have the key to the steel gate. I put on my favourite maroon converse and set off with mixed feelings of anticipation and uncertainty.
According to the invitation card, Dion lives in 5 Ashwood Grove. I had located her house with the help of the google map app in my phone. And may I add, other than my sketchbook, google is my best friend. The bungalow the party was held in was just a ten-minute walk from my house if I brisk-walk. Before I turned around the corner which led to Dion's house, I donned the mask in anticipation.
It was pretty obvious which bungalow the party was held in. It was impossible to miss the music that reverberated through the thick walls of the massive bungalow. I wondered for a moment if the neighbours would complain or call the police. Approaching the gigantic gate, the spacious garden and veranda came into view. There were groups of people gathered together and dressed to the nines-girls in gowns so chic and elaborated that they made me extremely conscious of my casual attire. It did not occur to me to dress formally. I had expected everyone to dress comfortably. I shifted from one foot to another as I took in the sea of movements in front of me.
"Do you have an invitation card?"
I whirled to the side in surprise to face a guy wearing a zipped-up black rider jacket with black jeans. He was wearing a silver mask with the design of a black clover at the top left side of it, shielding his face from me. I don't know why but I seemed to have an affinity with clovers. Not that I would complain. I like them a lot too.
"Do you have an invitation card?" he repeated and brought me back to reality.
Of course. There would certainly be security measures taken for such an event with a massive flow of people. He must be the one in charge of checking for invitation cards in case a dangerous stranger had decided to sneak inside.
"Yeah," I handed the card to him and hoped with all my heart that he would ignore the creases. I did not come all the way here only to be sent away. Now that I am here, my excitement and curiosity had risen to a whole new level.
He gave me a slight nod and I entered the premises gratefully, absorbing every bit of the experience. A girl I did not recognize looked at my direction and waved. Out of instinct, I raised my hand to wave back. I was surprised when she started making her way towards me. A tiny smile found its way to my lips at the prospect of making a friend tonight. However when she stalked right past me, my face fell.
"Hey Ashley, do you know her? She was waving to you."
"Who? The one with the jeans? I don't even know her for Gods' sake! Besides, what was she thinking wearing those clothes here?" she scoffed and my face heated up. I was suddenly fully aware of the distasteful looks thrown my way and the blunt remarks about my attire but I pushed them to the back of my mind. For a moment, I was thankful for the mask that concealed my face from everyone. The mask was a plus. Still, I shouldn't let them spoil my night. I'm going to savor every bit of this once-in-a-blue-moon experience.
I'll just take a quick stroll inside the house and then leave. When I set foot inside, I was momentarily dazed by the brightness of the room. I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the light. From the inside, there's no way you could tell that it's dark outside. Gold curtains with intricate designs were drawn close and the chandelier sparkled beautifully from the ceiling. The entire room is air-conditioned too. I marveled at the sophisticated decorations around the room. It was like nothing I'd imagined. I have always heard about Dion being rich but I didn't expect her to be this wealthy. She's just like a princess from a fairytale. Everything in the room looked like it costed a bomb and I'm sure I've only seen one part of the house. Even the floor tiles looked utterly expensive. I felt as though I was walking on dollar signs.
All the furnitures were pushed to the sides, leaving a spacious centre where many people are either chatting or swaying along to the slow classical piece. I recognised one of the dancers as Dion from her unmistakable, elegant auburn curls of her hair and contemplated on whether I should go up to her and say hi. In the end, I decided against it since I had no idea what I should say to her. Hi, I came. That would sound rather silly. Besides, she might have invited me out of politeness and did expect me to turn up.
I went up some steps and took in a circular glass table with mouth-watering finger-food and machines alined along the curvature of the table. I watched as a girl in a red velvet gown went up to the machine with a cup and pressed a button. What seemed like fruit punch flowed into her cup. Feeling thirsty from the walk, I picked the least costly cup to me from the tray, which also looked like it costed more than two digits. Handling it with extreme care, I went up to the drink machine and imitated what the previous girl had done. The same coloured liquid flowed into my cup. Bringing the cup to my lips, I took a sip of the drink and fell in love with it instantly. It tasted heavenly. Before I knew it, I was pushing the button for the third cup. I didn't realise that I was hogging the machine until I felt eyes trained on me. In embarrassment, I scooted away from the drink machine only to bump into something hard.
I looked up to see what I had bumped into. It was a who and not a what. The same guy I had seen checking people for invitation card outside the house stared at me intently through the gaps of his mask.
"Sorry..." I mumbled apologetically. Spotting the watch around his wrist, I remembered.
"Um...What time is it now?" I enquired.
He did not reply and continued staring at me, unmoving. What's wrong with him? I frowned. I moved to step around him but a sudden grip around my wrist made me jump.
"You should probably leave now," he whispered darkly.
Taken aback by his words, I yanked my hand out of his grip. Did Dion change her mind about inviting me? If so, I should not stay on any longer. I would be lying if I said that I was not affected because hurt started creeping in. Sparing one last pointed glance at him, I made my way to the door located at the opposite end of the room. The music had changed into something heavier and wilder, seeming to complement my feelings. There were a ridiculous amount of people gathered on the dance floor, blocking my path to the door. I yelled 'excuse me' numerous times but my voice was drowned by the heavy metal blaring from the unseen speakers. My height of 163 centimeters was not helping me in this situation either. Compared to other guys and girls who were wearing high heels, I seemed fun-sized. I tried to make my way through politely but the crowd was pushing me backwards instead. Seeing no other option, I pushed my way through the crowd in an ungracious manner, muttering 'sorry' whenever I stepped on someone's foot by accident.
When I stepped outside into the chilly night, I drawled the crisped air into my lungs gladly. Being in the house which was packed like sardines was suffocating. However, I might not have noticed this if not for the abrupt withdrawal of invitation. Did thinking that make me feel better? No. Still, I did not regret coming. Sure, I did not enjoy it to the fullest but that was enough for tonight. Time to get home and face what my mother have to say.
Unfortunately before I could make a dash home, I was knocked out cold.