I was living in Jasper's house this entire time.
The house where they were taken from was the same one they got trapped in. The illegal loaners had taken advantage of his house. They took advantage of their weakness. How could I have missed this factor? Why wasn't I able to put the pieces?
I stared at my house like it's a whole new different place now. This is not mine. The building in front of me was not supposed to be my property. I shut my eyes tightly and fell to my knees. Why is this happening? How could this happen?
I had various questions running in my head that I knew I would never get the answer to. "Ughhhh!!!" I grunted in anger. I wasn't precisely sure where my anger was pointed at. I was unsure if this fury was towards myself, or if it was targeted at primarily everything. I took a moment to process everything and allowed the anger to cool down. When I believed it did, I smacked the gravel and rose up.
Trying to identify any probable locations of Jasper's whereabouts was a difficult problem; I was entirely clueless. Apart from his own home—which was apparently mine now—I had no information left of him. I couldn't help but think of the possibility that someone took him again. He's gone because he's in danger. It was certainly possible in every way. He had to be taken. I wasn't careful enough.
Was it my fault?
I sank back to the floor when realization struck.
It was my fault. Why hadn't I woken up earlier? Why did I have to be unconscious in the hospital for two days? I would've saved him.
That's when I realized I was angry at myself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I started smacking my forehead with the palm of my hand. Hatred for myself rose higher. I'm worthless. I'm useless. Apparently, I'm a pro at letting people down. I wasn't even able to get him out that damn room. When truly looking at it, he was the one who got us out. Not me! Now I've recklessly let him slip back in danger. I was careless. What's wrong with me?
I felt stupid, and physically, I bet it showed. A woman, probably in her mid thirties—a neighbour, I assumed—was walking her dog in her house shorts when she spotted my humiliating self, squatted on the floor.
"Is everything alright, Miss?" She asked kindly. Her dog started sniffing me.
I looked up at her and stared. It took me a moment before a question had fully formulated in my head. Therefore, without even answering her question, I shamelessly asked, "Do you happen to know the Lockwood family?"
"Oh," A smile crept on her face, "Before my mother passed, she used to be great friends with Granny Anna. The family bought her a new home a tricycle away down on Lington street. They didn't want her to be reminded of the loss. Do you know them?"
His grandmother.
She's the only person alive in his dysfunctional family. The last time I heard about this, I had no idea what to do with that certain information. However, right now, I knew it had a purpose. I suppose traveling to his grandmother to inform her about what happened was the wisest decision. Her poor, old mind must be depressed from losing both her daughter and grandson. She at least deserves to know that Jasper is alive, despite his whereabouts.
This neighbour however, seemed to lack knowledge about the disappearance of the Lockwood Family. She was talking about them as if they were still living in the house in front of us. I was secretly shaking my head inside.
"My deepest condolences." I paused, "But, uh, do you mind giving me the full address?"
She refused. "But I don't know you."
"Uh, I'm Eleanor Vega," I slowly stood up and dusted off my thighs, even if they weren't dirty. "I'm an old friend of Jasper Lockwood. It's just quite of an emergency." I lied.
"Oh love, as much as I want to, I can't just give away her address."
I wanted to kneel down and beg; I wanted to clasp my hands together and raise them up to her. But I cautiously knew that it would make me look like a complete fool and eventually prevent her even more from providing the information. "Please. Please help me. I just seriously need to get to her."
She consistently declined for a while but eventually gave in when I didn't back down. She redirected me to #15 Lington St., One Village, Manila. I gave her a sincere thank you and we both parted ways. As I searched for a tricycle to help me reach the address, I couldn't help but notice an article on the newspaper stand I passed by. On the front cover were mug shots of familiar faces that I find uncomfortable recognizing: Jasper's kidnappers. On top of the photos was the title: Three men caught hiding in a normal house after trapping 18-year-old boy in a dungeon-like room. A dungeon? What an exaggeration. I scoffed but bought the newspaper anyway, just in case his grandmother needed any sort of proof.
No matter how hard I tried to push the thought away, I kept thinking of the pain brought onto his poor grandmother. Losing a child is one, but thinking she also lost a grandson? It was too difficult for me to visualize the way she gained knowledge about Jasper and his mom. She had to learn about it while having no one, not even a husband, to share the misery with. It's her right to know Jasper's still alive, even if we weren't entirely sure of his safety.
I arrived in front of a one story house that was labelled with the number 15. My heart started to grow heavy and I was unsure why. Maybe I was afraid of what her reaction might be? I wouldn't know what to do if she started to break down crying in front of me. I wouldn't question why, however.
I got out of the tricycle, paid, then walked towards her front porch with heavy feet. I took a deep breath in before knocking on the wooden door. I gently knocked thrice, unsure of what to expect.
An old lady shorter than I am greeted me by the door with a confused expression on her face. "May I help you?" Her voice was weak and hoarse. I gulped with nervousness. "Uhm hello, I'm-"
I was stopped mid sentence when a person walked in on the scene, right on time.
"Grand, is everything alri-"
He also froze when he saw me. He was as surprised as I was.
It was him.
He stood behind his grandmother, perfectly neat and tidy and selfishly happy. The way he had his white shirt on and his hair up in a perfect quiff told me that he was showered and groomed. How dare him.
"Ellie?!"
My body started to feel remarkably cold. I suddenly felt utterly betrayed. It was the kind of feeling where your heart drops and you're left with a cold, empty void. I shot my gaze straight into his soul and shook my head in disappointment before I turned around and ran away. I fled the place—taking my path on the sidewalk—even if I had no clue where it would take me. At this point, knowing where I'd end up was the least of my concerns. All I wanted was to get away—to be free from this. I gripped the newspaper in my hand tighter and tighter as it was the only one I could take my anger out on.
The pain wasn't physical anymore. It was the kind of pain that dug through your heart and made sure it ripped out each vein, each artery attached to it. Just to make sure you died right then and there.
How could he do this?
I could already spot the next block when I heard footsteps dashing towards me. I tried speeding up so he'd fail to catch up. "Ellie!!!" He shouted my name like he needed me, when obviously, he did not. He constantly ran after me, even if I didn't want to be chased. "Ellie!" He screamed once more.
When he apparently caught up to me, he grabbed the back of my arm and hugged me from behind, making it harder for me to get away. I resisted vigorously and with full force pushed away from his tight embrace. I faced him. "How dare you??? I was so worried that something might've happened to you again, that's why you're gone!" I clasped my fist tight, trying to fight the tears in my eyes, "You could've taken at least a minute of your life to tell my mom your leaving or even just 5 seconds to leave a damn note!"
"Ellie-"
I yelled louder, "Stop calling me that!!!" My voice threw him off track. "I was angry at myself! I was blaming myself Jasper!!! Didn't you think of that???"
His eyes were filled with sadness and guilt. But all it was to me were lies. I would never expect myself to come to this point where I was itching to smack him. "I- I just didn't want to be affiliated with you anymore."
"Excuse me?" I scoffed and stepped back, completely taking offense. "After I've fed you? After never leaving you for at least a month?" My voice was nothing but outraged.
"Not like that." He looked straight into my eyes, "I just didn't want anything terrible to happen to you if they ever caught me again. Maybe you'd forget about me if I did so." He was awkwardly holding his hands together, as if he didn't know what to do with them. "And by then, maybe the feelings I have for you would lessen. It would save us both the pain, right?"
It was obvious that he wanted me to agree at this point. But I don't. I didn't. How could I? How inconsiderate and selfish could you be to disregard someone's feelings like that? You can't simply decide to take action on how you believe a person would feel. "That's so insensitive." I voiced out my own thoughts as I gripped the newspaper tighter.
"Ellie, I just wanted you safe. If ever they saw me with you, they would not only target me, but they'd come for you as well. We don't know where they are right now. Those people are good at hiding you never know—"
"Well then here you go," I threw the newspaper article at him, "I gave your SD card to the police and they caught them. They're in jail now. All three of them. You're fucking welcome."
I didn't even wait for his reply. I instantly turned my back on him and ran away as the tears crept up my eyes, once again. I didn't want him to watch me as I broke down. I refused to allow him to see me weak again. I didn't want him to have that power over me. Or perhaps, I didn't want him to know that he did.
I considered myself incredibly weak to be weeping repeatedly. But this time, I believed I had all the reasons to. For a while I could still hear him calling out my name. I could hear the tinge of heartache that came along with it. But I didn't care. I was running agilely and the tears were rapidly streaming down that I couldn't take notice of whatever was happening around me.