S O R E N
From what I can remember, I've only been nervous three times in my life.
One; when my father gave the me the family ring. A ring all men of straight blood McKinin wore as soon as they became a man. The small pure gold crown in the centre pointed away from the heart if you weren't taken, and if you were, you were to wear it so the crown faced the heart.
Two; when I had sex for the first time. The fact I was drunk and was still nervous will forever confuse me.
Three; the day I watched my baby sister's tiny fingers uncurl from mine as her chest lay still. That was the day I gave up, the day I realized that nothing ever stays gold.
I pulled my hood up and shook off the faint feeling of nerves as the butler opened the front door. Today was the day I'd look Jay in the eyes and apologised. Something that clogged my throat and squeezed my lungs, just those two words.
Her father pushed his lips together in distaste, "Good Morning, Pendejo."
I took off my beanie and held out my hand, "Sir." He shook it reluctantly before calling for Jay who came into view a few minutes, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.
"Did you want to walk to school with me?" I asked over the shoulder of her father who was mouthing No.
She the gave the man she called her father a glare of embarrassment before turning to me, "Um, sure? Let me grab my stuff."
As soon as she disappeared further down her the hall the big man turned around, "Listen Pendejo, don't be getting cosy with mi hija. Remember the shovel." He pointed to his eyes then to me with a glare, then he was gone.
I nodded seriously, moving aside as Jay kissed her father on the cheek and walked down the path. I could feel his glare on my back as walked down the road, putting my beanie back on I felt a shivers trace my spine.
"Jay?" I grunted in response, "What does pendejo mean in English?"
She turned to look at me with weird expression plastered on her face, "It's slang for a son-of-a-bitch, why?"
I shook my head, "Nothin'."
We walked in silence as before I looked up to the dark clouds and sighed, "Why a lily? Why your butt too?"
"Very subtle." She huffed, she pulled her gloves up to cover her wrists, "Stuff happened, I turned to alcohol for one night and that happened." She gave me a knowing look, "You of all people should understand."
I nodded slightly before smirking, "yeah, but why the butt?"
"Perv." She shrugged, her cheeks bright red, "No one would ever see it."
I realised that she was telling me because she trusted me, a hiccup of joy and respect rocketed through my body.
"And the lily?"
"My mothers name." Her voice held nothing, no emotion whatsoever. She was completely walled about the subject and I knew I had no right to bash those walls down.
She trusted me so I might as well damn trust her, the last friend I have before I die.
My eyes staring straight ahead I let the one thing sealed in my chest break free, "I had a baby sister," I felt my smile turn ghostly, my voice airy and slow, "She was so beautiful."
Jay stopped and looked at me in shock, "What did you just say?"
My eyes casted somewhere past her, "I called her Precious."
She gripped both of my biceps and forced me to look at her, "Soren, what are you talking about? Are you feeling alright?"
My head felt cloudy, my heart heavy, "I'm not sick, there is no way I could forget the memory." I broke out of her grip, "Don't talk about it, I didn't push you on the matter of your mother. Stand down Jay."
She fell into my fast step as I almost regretted telling her, "Jay, know that if you tell a soul I will break your neck." It wasn't a hollow threat.
The last time I cried in public was in front of Jay at least a month ago. Though, as the memory thundered through my mind I couldn't help but feel the tears dangerously flood my eyes. I hate crying, I hate being weak.
Though, sometimes just saying something that hurts so much to another breathing person brings out the tears.
They left her there; they left Precious to defend for herself because she felt shamed for what she'd done. Mom was hidden from all of us boys for nine months, we should've seen it. Though, we trusted Albert back then and completely believed she was sick and needed to stay away from us.
I clenched my fist in effort to shake off the feeling of her tiny fingers, her faint breathe that scarred me and kept me awake at night. My eyes closed as we walked, my mind raced.
"She's 21 weeks and five days early, son." The doctor put a large hand on my shoulder as I looked into her open crib, her small chest fighting for air.
I turned to him with a desperate look on my face, "Save her! Do something!"
He gave me apologetic look, "Son, we have laws that if a baby is under the premature age then we can't operate on them... There isn't any hope."
I shook my head, "'No, no. Please, I can pay!" I thumbed with my pockets but he grabbed both of my hands tightly and shook his head.
My eyes fell upon the cot as I stared at her black hair, they'd said she'd had blue eyes. Even though she wasn't pure McKinin she looked like one, she'd always be one of us.
"You're the father?" He asked seriously and I shook my head watching his eyes widened, "I'm her brother... Well, her half brother."
"Kid, you're too young to see this or to be here for that matter. Come on, I'll buy you a hot chocolate and you can help us locate your mother who... Left the baby," He offered kindly and shrugged off his hand, ignoring his kind eyes.
"I'm staying." My voice was strong and I stood up as straight as I could, still having to look up at the doctor's eyes.
He opened his mouth to object but I ignored him and put my finger into the cot, watching as her tiny hand gripped onto the tip of my finger.
"It's okay, my love..." I whispered as she took a shaky breath, her small body moving up and down from her breathing, "Precious."
The doctor put a hand on my shoulder, "Son, you can't legally name her."
I smiled at the baby, "She's strong enough to defy socialist stupid rules, she can have whatever name she likes."
He took a step back as I stroked her small head lovely, letting the tears roll down my cheek, "It's okay Precious, you don't have to be strong anymore. Take that angels hand..."
She gripped my finger weakly and I bit my lip bloody to hold back the sound rocketing around in my rib change.
"Just know, you didn't leave this world unloved." I leant down and kissed her forehead, feeling her faint breath fan my chin. Then it stopped, her tiny fingers uncurled from the tip of my finger.
"Soren!" Jay gripped my arm as she pulled me off the road, the car horn screeched, the man yelling curse words as he drove past, "I've been talking to for you the past ten minutes, I thought you were just having a 'Soren statue' moment but the car almost hit you."
I looked away from her and rubbed my eyes like I was tired, stretching even. She peered behind the hood and gasped, "Are you crying?"
"Hay Fever." I grunted, turning away from her pressing gaze.
"In winter?" She raised an eyebrow at me, before gripping my arm which I shrugged off.
"Yes." I grunted, "In winter."
-
I've finally learnt my lesson. I always edited after I post and then I loose most of comments which really really really sucks. So now, I shall wait.
I'm soo happy with how this book is flowing plot wise but also in popularity, it's extraordinary.
Vote if you'd like, it'd be much appreciated.
Also, the moments after she got a concussion will be told at a later chapter don't worry. :)