It was Tuesday, approximately five thirty pm and like any teenager, I was eating cereal on the sofa watching reruns of a sit-com in my jammies and dressing gown.
I was pretending to be normal while my friends were out judging the suicidal.
Mum and Ross were getting ready to go out for their anniversary dinner and I was preparing myself to babysit Jackson, far too big a child to be sitting on these days.
"What dress Chris, the black or the purple?" Mum held two different dresses in my face despite the fact I know she'd bought one especially for the occasion. No, this was all for show, Mum finding an excuse to make a fuss. But she and Ross hadn't been out for a date in a long time and I couldn't see the harm in indulging her if it meant settling her nerves.
"You always look lovely in the black Mum." Her nose wrinkled in dissatisfaction.
"Mmm I don't know, I mean I've worn it so many times and I bought the purple one especially for tonight." She weighed the dressed hangers in her hands and thought...not very hard of course, her decision already made.
"Then wear the purple one Mum, it is a beautiful dress after all. I'm sure you'll look fabulous in it," I said, flipping the TV channel.
"You're right. I'll wear the purple one." With a flourish of purple fabric Mum disappeared to get changed. I rolled my eyes, sinking further into the sofa. I took the cushion from behind my back and hugged it to my tummy, secretly wishing I was the one debating what to wear and suppressing the butterflies and well scrubbed up man and a pretty dress could bring.
Next Ross strolled into the living room, looking dashing and young in his suit and clean shaven face. He was the kind of handsome Beth would have flirted with, knowing full well it would have grossed me out. He looked at gingerly and tense body language. However, upon seeing my face his whole stance changed and he grinned, a twinkle in his eye.
"Your Mum did the dress thing didn't she?"
"Bingo," I retorted, suppressing a smirk myself.
"She wanted the purple dress right?"
"Two for two Ross." I flipped the channel again, finding it difficult to invest in anything when I knew Jackson would get the TV from the time our parent left until his bedtime.
"Could you give me a hand with my cufflinks Chris?" asked Ross. I regarded him, the memory of doing so when I had once tried to avoid Kieran coming to mine. Back then things had been so full of uncertainty too but things were different now, the stakes killing ever higher.
Seeing my apprehension, even if not understanding it, Ross got to his knees so I wouldn't have to move from the sofa. Ross was wearing his father's old cufflinks, a mark of the importance of the occasion. With steady fingers I fastened them and brushed down his dress shirt.
"How do I look?" Ross got to his feet and slipped his arms through his dinner jacket.
"Like a fancy penguin." Ross slipped his bearlike hands into his pockets and scowled.
"I think I'll take that as a compliment, you've said far worse things to me in our time together." Ross smiled at me with a fondness that warmed my heart more than I would have cared to admit.
"Well maybe I've just come to realise how much I like having you around." I blushed and ignored the admiring way that Ross was looking at me. Instead, I turned up the volume on the TV, something having finally caught my interest.
"We have some breaking news, just in," the newscaster said. "In an attempt to seize the attention of the Pakistani Government following the rigging of last week's election there has been multiple suicide bombings and violent protests in the capital of Islamabad. The first in the series of attacks occurred a mile away from the cities Supreme Court followed by a second attack at the Margalla Railway Station a further six miles away from the official government building. The number of casualties isn't yet known but citizens have been told to stay indoors."
I turned the volume up once more, my stomach turning as I drank in the scenes of devastation. I had walked in such chaos before, Kieran as my guide and it was beyond words, beyond comprehension.
"In the past few minutes there have been negotiations between the protest leaders and government officials with further talks being held later this week. We'll have more on that story at nine. Now, after recent claims of-"
I pressed the mute button, enough reality to sicken me for one evening.
"Poor people. That government is going to hang them high and dry - you watch," Ross murmured, my compliments all but forgotten.
Ross' comment only made me feel guilt, my worried for Kieran and his family and Nate as opposed to the people who had been hurt and killed. Since becoming so involved with Indigo and Red I had lost so much perspective on what it was like to exist in the real world and it bothered me. I was still living and breathing so why was I some caught up in the immortal when my time as a mortal was numbered?
Once more I turned over the channel, numbing myself.
"I did wonder Chris, you never watch the news," Ross said, sitting himself down into the armchair. While Ross was ready, there was no telling when Mum would be.
"I know but sometimes it's good to know what's going on in the world, even if you don't like it," I said, feeling false for saying what it had taken me so long to realise. I was a fraud.
"I like your philosophy," Ross returned, straightening out his long lanky legs and enjoying a moment, however brief, of rest. "Your mum and I are going to be late for our reservation if we're not careful," Ross muttered, checking and rechecking his watch.
"Did you not book the restaurant thirty minutes later than Mum had said?"
"No, why would I?" Ross asked stupidly. I shook my head at him.
"You book thirty minutes later because Mum is going to take that much longer to get ready than she says. Where have you been the past fourteen years?" I scoffed.
"Making sure she's been getting out the door on time," Ross quipped before we both shared a "Christmas will come faster."
"Christmas next year you mean," I corrected. Ross shook his head and retrieved his glasses from his nose, wiping the lenses.
"Do you ever regret those fourteen years?" I asked, really trying to see Ross as more than just a man but as all he'd been in the fourteen years I'd known him; the lover, the protector, the provider, the councilor and the father.
There was a beauty about the expression on his face.
"Not a minute. I love your Mum and you and Jackson so unconditionally. Although your mum is as ditsy as she was the first day I met her I'm glad she's never changed. Vanessa was a challenge and you know how I relish a challenge whether of the numerical or family kind." Ross inspected his glasses and then popped them back onto his nose.
"And me?" I questioned.
"Well that's a whole other ball game. With no children of my own it was hard adjusting to being a father but I enjoyed it. It amazed me how stubborn a three year old could be and then when you grew to dislike me more and more...well then the challenge increased so I rose to it." Ross shrugged, as though nothing in the fourteen years we had know one another had phased him.
"You weren't my dad and that was the problem," I professed flatly, remembering the years of tears, tantrums and downright loathing towards the man Mum wanted me to call Daddy.
"At first I tried to be but when I realised that was what was making you hate me so much more I changed tactic and tried just being...well Ross," he said. He gestured at himself and guffawed at himself.
"Well Ross is just perfect, if you ask me." Ross and I exchanged glances before casting them to the floor, embarrassed and uncomfortable.
"Well, hearing you say so is exactly why the last fourteen years have been worthwhile."
And there it was, that strange warmth inside that was becoming more familiar. It was nice.
There was a padding of feet coming down the hall, putting a stop to any further mushiness, much to the relief of both Ross and I.
In his thick socks and jammies Jackson entered, a formidable frown on his freckled face.
"I can't believe Mum put me into my jammies at half past five. I'm not going to bed for like another three and a half hours," Jackson moaned, sitting cross legged on the floor in protest.
"I'm in my jammies," I countered. Jackson scowled at me, eyeing me up and down.
"Yeah but you're just being lazy, you've been in you jammies all day." I threw the pillow at Jackson and hit him straight in the face.
"I'm still feeling ill," I huffed. "And besides Jacky, Mummy didn't have to force me into mine so there," I retorted smugly, catching the cushion launched poorly at my head. Jackson mimicked what I'd said, pulling faces whilst doing so. "Hey I'll put you to bed at seven instead of nine if you're not careful." Jackson glowered some more, folding his arms in complaint.
"You can't, Mum says I can stay up till nine," argued Jackson. I narrowed my eyes, far from prepared to go down without a fight.
"And Dad says your sister's in charge and if she puts you to bed at seven for misbehaving then that's fine with me," Ross interjected. Jackson, rather puzzled by his father's willingness to take my side, mumbled something under his breath but continued his sulking in silence.
"Where is that woman?" said Ross, rising for his chair and checking his watch again.
"I'm just coming!" Mum shouted. True to her word she clopped into the living room in her dancing heels, purple dress and my black cardigan. I would have commented about the fact she'd gone rummaging through my drawers but decided I would have just been wasting my breath and putting a dampener on her mood.
"You look beautiful Mum." I settled for that instead of something snide. Mum blushed as Ross approached and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.
"She's right Vanessa, you're gorgeous." Mum couldn't help but giggle, nothing less than a teen going to prom. Ross put his arm around Mum shoulders and waited for her to say her goodbyes for the evening.
"You're to be in bed and nine, latest Jackson. Under no circumstances do I want to be hearing you've been trying to get around that. What Chrissie says goes alright?" Jackson still sulked, nothing having changed despite his normally irresistible pout.
"As for you Chris, just because you're in charge doesn't mean you can feel free to boss your brother about."
It was a shame to discover I was over teasing Jackson, finding it almost laborious. Maybe while he'd sat by my bedside, the blonde haired, blue eyed boy had managed to thaw me.
"Now we'll be back before midnight but if you need us our numbers are on the fridge as always."
"Yes Mum," I replied automatically.
"Good." She bent down and planted a kiss on Jackson's cheek before looking around to make sure everything was just so. Jackson rubbed his cheek with his sleeve, making the lipstick smudge worse.
"Get going Mum or not only will you be late but I think you'll make Ross have a panic attack in the process," I ordered, getting up so could push her from the room myself. There was no need though as Ross, checking his watch one last time, did the honours for me.
"OK, we're going, we're going." Jackson stayed put in the living room but I followed just to make sure they actually went. "Now no party's while we're out." Mum kissed me cheek too but I wasn't so hasty to rub off the mark she'd left, knowing it would require more than a sleeve and saliva to remove.
"I'm not suicidal Mum," I teased, making her frown.
"You honestly say the most insensitive things Christine," she tutted, shaking her head. "See you later." With Ross guiding her by the small of her back, my parents finally made their way out of the door. I waved them off and then proceeded to shut the door behind them.
On my return to the lounge I found that Jackson had got himself all set up on his console and was quite convincingly kicking butt.
"You actually have an addiction to that game." I went back to being curled up of the sofa and watched as my twelve year old brother mutilated things.
"I could have an addiction to worse things." Jackson shot back, killing a guy so gruesomely that his guts spilled out of his stomach. It was all quite charming really, once you got placed the lack of humanity, blood and gore.
"That's not even a funny thing to say at your age," I muttered, glad Mum had left knowing she'd having been having a fit otherwise.
"At least I'm not doing any of it." His face was totally glued to the screen, tongue between his teeth. It was truly a gift to see Jackson looking so unattractive. Appraising him, I decided to have a little fun.
"So you think I'm dying right?" I said casually, separating strands of my hair. He continued to play his game, not thinking clearly enough to pause and confront me.
"Why would you think that?" he asked, flicking random buttons on his controller.
"No reason." I waited for it to sink in, for the realisation to make itself apparent on his dopey face.
The game paused and Jackson's shoulder tensed.
"You were awake weren't you?" Jackson had turned, pointing his controller at me accusingly. I savored the moment, perhaps a little presumptuous in thinking I didn't revel in teasing my little brother.
"Not technically. I could hear you but nothing more so you can't get mad, it wasn't my fault." Jackson faltered, the controller wavering in his hand.
"Let's get one thing straight, I only said all that because I thought you couldn't hear me. I wouldn't have said it all otherwise," Jackson argued, licking his lips and attempting to stare me dead set in the face and failing miserably. There was a soft pink glow beneath his freckles and it was disgustingly cute.
"Charming," I mumbled.
"No I didn't mean it like that," Jackson muttered. "If the guys at school knew I'd said all that mushy crap they'd beat me up. I said things that brothers should never ever say to their sister unless dying or begging for mercy - it's the brother code...at least that's what Scott says." That had to be the corniest thing I'd ever heard but I couldn't help the smile pulling at my lips.
"The boys at your school wouldn't beat you up - they all fancy me and wouldn't dare lay a finger on you." I kidded, winking and not thinking for a moment it might be true. But my smile faltered as Jackson hesitated to correct me.
"You know I would say otherwise if that wasn't actually true." Jackson grimaced, putting down the worn controller.
"The boys in your school are young, naive and only like me because I'm older," I explained, chuckling uneasily.
"I suppose that helps and the fact you have big um..." He squeezed the with his hand. "And you know..." His eyes strayed to my butt and his whole face to the tips of his ears went scarlet.
"Excuse me?" I spluttered, reading another pillow to throw at my brother.
"Well Mitchell says that it's your boobs and butt that make you his kind of woman and the guys all agreed. They said they weren't big or anything...just well proportioned."
I couldn't remember ever feeling so exposed in my life. I had the cushion readied in my hand but thought better of it, seeing that the conversation was making me as uncomfortable as Jackson. He had been made so uncomfortable by his friends and now he was telling me about it, hoping I might tell him something to feel less guilty for being unable to do anything about it.
"I'm gonna tell you something right now Jackson, something you have to promise me you'll remember when you're all grown up and dating."
I couldn't believe I was having this talk with him, me of all the people.
"What?" muttered Jackson, eyeing me warily.
"Don't you dare turn into one of those guys that just like a girl because her breasts are the size of watermelons - got it?" I was not having a brother who was going to go for the girls because their boob size was higher than their IQ.
Jackson paled to white and he looked to the door for a means of escape, clearly done with this conversation.
"Whatever. I'm hungry, let's call for pizza." Jackson looked to me pleadingly, begging me not to have anything more to say on the matter. I conceded, more than happy to never broach the subject again.
"And you are paying for this pizza how exactly?" I asked. I had money but if I was about to get free pizza who was I to say otherwise.
"I won a bet," Jackson said, shrugging.
"You won a bet?" I snorted. Mum would have been hysterical right about now if she knew about this conversation.
"Yeah, I got twenty quid out of it," Jackson confessed, no longer scarlet and proceeding to continue his virtual killing spree. I wasn't too sure what had happened to my angelic little brother but I kind of liked it. Jackson was more rough and ready than I gave him credit for and Mum would have absolutely hated it.
"What were you betting on?"
"On how many mars bars Craig could eat before he was sick. He ate fifteen." There was a flurry of bullets from a gun and a whispered celebration from Jackson.
"Mum doesn't happen to know about this does she?" I asked, havin already anticipated the answer. Jackson scoffed, pausing his game again and meeting me with a calculated glare.
"No and if you tell her I'll start selling your underwear to the guys in my year - I'd make a fortune from it," Jackson threatened, gnashing his pearly white teeth. Who was this child and where could I congratulate the morons who'd done a number on him?
"That's disgusting, so much so that I know for a fact you wouldn't do something that gross," I challenged.
"Wanna bet?" There was a hint of the devil in the glint in the boy's eye.
"No, you seem to be good at that considering..."
I had wondered when all Mums coddling was going to turn the kid twisted.
"I'll go phone for that pizza shall I?" Jackson didn't reply, now absorbed in selecting a different gun from the many options on the screen. I shook my head and tried to process the madness of what had just happened. Rising from the sofa, I wrapped the dressing gown more tightly about myself, conscious of my fairly average breast and backside.
What was wrong with twelve year olds these days? What had happened to Pokemon and Game Boys?
Once the order had been placed for one large Hawaiian pizza I returned the sofa, refraining from taking off my dressing gown despite how stuffy it was. I wasn't giving Jackson the satisfaction nor ammunition of thinking he'd got to me.
"You ordered Hawaiian right?" Jackson said, stopping his game all for that sake of knowing he was spending his money justifiably.
"Yes your majesty, one large Hawaiian pizza is on its way." Satisfied, Jackson went back to forgetting about me and blowing heads off. I didn't mind, I was more than happy to watch Jackson create carnage, it was somewhat therapeutic.
"Did Kieran get back to you?" Jackson asked, probably massacring a village's worth of people before deeming conditions favorable enough to start talking again.
"No but he's been busy lately so it's fine," I said hurriedly, not wanting to get into a Kieran conversation with my little brother considering our conversation about his friends and my bosom.
"What kind of excuse is that? You could have died, he should have been here." Jackson shot mercilessly at a guy crouched behind a blown out car.
"It's not that simple Jackson and I wouldn't have died," I murmured. "Just pay attention to the guy shooting from that roof top and don't worry about it."
"I've got this Chris," Jackson mumbled, turning his gun on the assassin before turning the conversation back on me. "If you'd have died what kind of man would he have been? He'd have had nothing to show for loving you. He doesn't deserve you."
The man on the rooftop was a good as dead but Jackson still wasn't finished.
"Just leave it Jackson, it doesn't matter." He seemed almost hurt but my ungratefulness, after all he'd just been so kind to me and I'd thrown it back in his face. "To be honest Jackson, Kieran and I had a big fight and I don't think we're together anymore." Jackson's screen went black before it announced he had died in battle. Jackson threw his controller to the floor and proceeded to turn the game off completely. I sighed, knowing his defeat had been my fault.
"I didn't mean to shout at you Jackson but it's hard to have someone ask about Kieran and all you can do is sit there a know that they're reminding you of the one person in the world whose letting you down hurts the most," I confessed. It was only fair to be honest with Jackson, him consistently doing everything to earn my respect and never getting anything in return.
"Sorry Chris I didn't know," Jackson said. His blue eyes found me, with far more innocence than our conversation betrayed.
"It's fine, it was just a stupid fight Jack," I assured him, hoping there was nothing more to be said.
"If you're sure," he pressed. Jackson knew enough for now, anything more I said potentially robbing him from the childhood he should have had. As it was Jackson's friends were already robbing him from any of the innocence he should have remained blissful in.
"I'm sure."
Jackson played with the purposeless controller in his hand, a conflicted look on his face.
"I like a girl you know," he admitted sheepishly, a faint blush once more appearing in his cheeks. I grinned, glad of the sweetness in his face.
There you are Jackson, I was wondering where you'd gotten to.
"Really? Tell me all about her." I settled into the sofa, drinking in the glorious sight of Jackson, working out liking someone for the first time. I was rather jealous, wishing for the naive wonderment of it.
"Her names Lucy and she's really funny and smart."
"Does she have big boobs?" I joked tastelessly. Jackson shook his head and waved me off.
"She has short black hair and big hazel eyes. Lucy's kind of small but she does tae kwon do so everyone knows not to mess with her."
She sounded rather fabulous for a twelve year old.
"Does she like you back?" I questioned.
"Well I don't really know to be honest. She sometimes hangs around us with her group of friends and she talks to me a lot." Jackson giggled a little, hunching up his shoulders. "But I never really know what to say so I just ask her to teach me tae kwon do."
If only this was all there was to life.
"I think you're in there little bro. If a girl goes out of her way to talk to you and show you here moves then she must like you. Why don't you ask her out?" I pressed curiously. Jackson was a good looking young lad and despite his friends being tasteless, a catch as good as any other.
"I haven't seen her since we finished school for the summer. Besides when we get to high school who says she isn't going to find a guy who's better than me?"
It was funny thinking Jackson would start at Kings Street Grammar while I ended my time there. At least, unlike me in my first year, he would have someone bigger to look out for him and nothing of the acne I'd had.
"Trust me Jackson. I've done the whole move to high school and although people change, if this girl is a decent as you say she'll be the same girl you like now. There will be more boys for her to consider but you have to make sure you're the best of them."
"How can I be the best though?"
I rolled my eyes and observed him in earnest.
"For goodness sake Jack, just be you. It isn't rocket science."
Jackson considered this nodding and tapping the controller to his lips.
"Well I guess if she didn't like me for me then there wouldn't be much point in us getting into a relationship," Jackson muttered, understanding the basics of relationships, a knowledge that would serve him well the rest of his days if he paid mind not to forget.
"I'm worried about secondary school altogether to be honest," Jackson confessed, his big blue eyes finding a rather interesting spot on the floor to look at.
"You'll find your first two years a walk in the park - you don't do anything. All you have to worry about is keeping your feet on the ground; high school makes you vulnerable to so many different things and sometimes you have to know how to say no."
It was the harsh and simple truth and my mistakes were testament to that.
"You'll look out for my though, won't you Chris?" Jackson peered at me from beneath his lashes, a look most couldn't refuse.
"Sure but you won't really want me to be around you that much. You'll find your feet and then I'll be the big embarrassing sister again. And those mates of yours who think I'm fit will have more girls to drool over, I'll just be like everyone else." Jackson nodded, absorbing each and every point to settle his understandable nerve.
"Hey Chris." Jackson still held the controller to his mouth but he was no longer pale, a sadness now distorting his features. "I'm sorry about your dad. I overheard Mum and Ross talking about it and I've been meaning to say something...I just never seemed to find the right moment."
I pulled the cushion in my lap to my stomach and squeezed it. Nate had said all was well for now and I had to cling to that. So I smiled, a small and delicate thing but enough to convice Jackson not to worry.
"Hey it's fine, he hasn't been very well for a long time and the hospital is the best place for him. I appreciate you saying so though Jack."
Jackson placed his hand on his knuckle, peering at me.
"You know, out of the two of us, you really do get the crap luck," Jackson said as though such a thought hadn't occurred to me before.
"Pot luck I guess." Jackson was unconvinced. "I don't mind it makes me stronger, strong enough to kick your ass anyway."
Distracting Jackson by mocking him was the right thing to do. I wasn't about to start complaining to Jackson about how attempting suicide had made a mess of things, introduced me to two of the most powerful creatures that walked the earth.
"I respect you for that Chris. You never seem to let things get to you, not for long anyways." Now that wasn't completely true, hadn't I been the one to wallow in loosing Kieran for what felt like weeks?
No, I wasn't strong, just a bitch who wanted to convince the world I was better off alone, my nothing more than a calloused crater in my chest.
"Don't respect me for how I act Jackson because you and I both know what I'm capable of. Now that I seem to be doing better, my attempted suicide behind me, don't look up to me Jackson - you won't be doing me, you or anybody else any favours."
"You wouldn't do any of it again though, would you?" I saw the fear in Jacksons face clearer than I'd ever wanted to see it before. I sighed, who knew what would happen in the future, what I could and couldn't promise no matter how hard I wished to.
"Not if I had the choice. I would never take my life or purposely hurt myself again but sometimes people fall ill Jack and they loose control, it just happens. I can only promise not to do something so stupid again as long as I am sound of mind."
As much as I'd wanted my explanation to come out clearly I knew it hadn't. There was no easy way of explaining such things whether it was to someone who was twelve or ninety two. So instead Jackson looked into my face in search of the reassurance he needed and how I prayed and hoped and wished that it was there.
"I'm sorry. I just had to know Chris," he said.
"Don't apologise Jackson, you have a right to ask more than anyone." I admitted, hugging my knees to my chest. A loud growl interrupted whatever Jackson was preparing to say, his mouth half open.
"Hmm, I'm wonder where that pizza's got to." I held the cushion closer to my stomach, glad of its interruption. Jackson was really testing me for everything I had but he was twelve and curious and afraid as he began seeing the real world as his childhood innocence began fading.
"I hope the cheesy it still melting and it's covered in pineapple," Jackson said, wiping away the drool from the corner of his lips.
"I'm just hoping it's not cold when it gets here." I grumbled.
As if on cue, the buzzer rang and Jackson and I were both on our feet.
"I'll just grab the money," Jackson said, dashing eagerly from the room. I rose from the sofa, once more tightening my dressing gown about myself and going to the door. I was so ready for this pizza, a pacifier to further questioning and testing of my character. What I wouldn't have given for a bath, a bar of chocolate and peace of mind.
My bare feet slapped against the floor as I made my way to the door, my stomach rumbling in anticipation. I reached for the door, hearing Jackson making a racket in his room as he searched for his winnings. Impatient and ravenous, I flung the front door open and looked into the stairwell.
There was no pizza box in the shadows on the dingy stairwell, neither was there the expected pizza guy.
My heart started hammering against my chest and my hands grew clammy. My hand still on the door, I flung it shut. Inches from closing a hand caught round the edge of the door, breaking it off from the rest. I gulped and backed away. The big cavernous mouth beheld a monster, one I'd defeated many times before but this time left me unsure.
I stared at my fate wondering if I were to die.
The red eyes glowed hungrily in the looming shadows and I knew I would soon have my answer; an answer that would determine everything Red, Indigo and human.
To be continued...
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
I just want to give you, my dearest reader, the biggest thank you for reading. I must firstly tell you that although this is the end of book two, as you have probably read from previous posts, book three will soon follow.
Posting the rest of this book has been such a thrill and I have been so blessed to get to know some of you better. You all bring this story to life, each of you part of the journey and it just makes writing such an honour, one I hope you know I take seriously.
I doubt I will receive a Watty but ultimately that was never what this was about, what writing this book was about was challenging myself to write a little every day and to give you the best story I could.
As I have said, I won't be posting book three straight away. I will be attempting to finish 'Humble' (an extract of which I will place below to give you a taster), and then I shall return to Chris' story. If you want to continue on my story telling journey with Feste, Eli, Melvin and Phyllis, I would love that and if you want to take a break until Chris returns I would love that too but please stay in touch, I love hearing from you.
You are all so wonderful and make me smile with every read, every vote and every comment.
Thank you again and again.
So much love,
Bekah x
Humble: One
"I don't know about you," she began. "But I should think the roof of a bus stop makes a rather disagreeable place to rest for the night."
The boy prised one eye open, inspecting the aquamarine umbrella. He supposed the umbrella mocked him for not thinking more strategically about his choice of bed. Any sane person would have favoured the inside of the bus shelter as opposed to the roof of it.
Almost as confirmation of this, the boy chided himself, screwing up his face and deciding he had not wet himself but rather that it was the puddle of gathering rain that soaked his trousers.
"Delightfully charming weather," the umbrella continued. "Wouldn't you say?" it added, much to the boys vexation. He remained horizontal, not wishing to rise to the the umbrella and her teasing.
The boy was actually grateful for the downpour; his trousers were getting a good wash.
"The boy atop the bus shelter doesn't say much it seems. Well, I suppose it would take someone of immeasurable stupidity and thus incapable of speech to chose to sleep on the bus shelter rather than in it." The boy watched as the umbrella whirled. He could not see the point in replying. In moments the umbrella would be gone and so would he.
There was a moment of still, where all that existed was the gentle patter of rain. The boy breathed in and out and tried to numb himself again. The aquamarine umbrella was his first conversational companion in days, though he had said nothing at all.
In the distance he heard the painful shudder of an approaching bus. Though routine required him to retire from his perch and journey onwards, he was off put by the umbrella. So instead he acquainted himself again with isolation and closed his eyes.
But he was interrupted.
"An idiotic, mute boy might linger a while. After all, it takes a simple mind to see the magic of Humble." The bus sighed as it bowed to the aquamarine umbrella. "How I hope you aren't a genius Felix Morgan."
The boy, much too late for confrontation with the umbrella and her own, caught a glimpse of her shoes as she ascended onto the bus. The shoes were ghastly, but not nearly as ghastly as the umbrella's farewell.
The umbrella had known his name.
A boy of his own mind; that was Felix Morgan - or Feste as he prefered. And, being a boy of his own mind, Feste refused to think it was the aquamarine umbrella or vulgar tartan Doc Martens that made him stay in the town of Humble.
But even back then, atop the bus shelter, Feste knew whatever it was that made him stay was going to destroy what little of the world he had left to hold onto.