"Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you: you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for." - Bob Marley
Friday, April 6th, 2018
Lukas
I WATCH HER WALK OFF, her heels clicking on the ground and her messy hair bobbing up and down. I squeeze my fists together, contemplating whether to go after her or not. She has made it clear that she didn't want me with her. But all I want to do is run up to her and hold her, tight and not let her go.
A feeling at the bottom of my gut tells me that she was trying to say goodbye to me, for good. There is no way I am going to let that happen though.
What could have happened? She was fine before, talking to Josie, smiling, having a good time. It's like a switch completely flipped in her.
She was talking to my Father before she flipped out on me. And knowing his deceiving ways, he has something to do with it. Curling my fists together, I turn quickly, nearing the entrance to the building again. I swing the door open, stepping inside, wiping the small tears on my face before looking around in an attempt to find him.
I spot him across the room, talking to my Mum and I saunter on over to the two of them. Mum notices me and her smile drops when she sees my dark glare aimed towards my father. When I get to them, my Mother puts her hand on my arm but I brush it off, "What did you say to her?" I asked, clenching my fists so hard that my nails dig into my palms.
"What did I say to who?" He asks, chuckling, sending my Mum a shrug.
I run my hands over my face and chuckle, shaking my head, "Emilie. She just left. What did you say to her?" I step closer to him and Mums eye widen, looking between the two of us.
"What do you mean, Emilie left? Is she okay?" She asks, genuinely worried for her. I am too. Firstly I'm not comfortable with her making her own way home, I wanted to take her home tonight. And secondly, I have no idea what is going on in her mind right now and I want to be the one to help her through whatever is happening. But, right now, I'm here.
"I don't know, Joseph," I pause, looking at my father, "do you know?"
"I had a word with her." He finally says, nodding his head slowly. I narrow my eyes at him, urging him to finish, "All she is, is a distraction." He presses his lips together and shrugs. It takes everything in me not to punch him right now, in front of every here.
"What the fuck do you mean by that? She isn't a distraction." I shake my head, looking at him directly in the eyes. I desperately search for some form of regret. The past 22 years of my life with him as my father have been torture, yet he doesn't feel the slightest bit sorry for it.
"If one day you are going to take over the-" He begins, his voice deep and stern.
"I'm not fucking taking over the school, Joseph!" I shout, catching the attention of the people surrounding us. My face is hot with rage and I flare my nostrils.
Finn and Josie stand next to us, watching us in concern. My Dad's fast twists with anger and he stand up straight, "That is no way to talk to your own Father." He says, disgust evident in his voice. He doesn't love me, he never did. No matter how often I tried to convince myself that I had a Father who loved me, I knew he didn't. I don't even think he is capable of loving anyone.
"We are way past that, Joseph." I spit with anger. Mum steps out of the conversation, retreating to Finn and Josie. "You are not my Father, I never had one." I snap at him.
"But blood-"
"Blood means nothing when you were never there." I spit, tears pricking at my eyes, "Now, what did you say to Emilie?" He casually leans on a chair next to him, as casual as ever. Oh, how I would love to punch his smug face in.
"I told her that someone as poor as her would never have a chance with someone like you." He says with a smirk and I shake my head, looking down at my balled fists. I'm generally not an angry person, I've never had a lot of reason for my anger to come out before. Except for little fights at school and when my parents would tell me off for no reason when I was young. But tonight is an exception, all the years of my Father mistreating me and the people around me has all built up and I can't take it anymore.
I look back up at him with his cocky grin and bring my fist up, swinging at him. As my fist connects with his jaw, I feel a throbbing in my knuckle. He doubles over in pain but with my other hand I pull him up. His lip is cut and blood slowly trickles down his chin as he groans. A crowd has now formed around us and my Mum yells at me to stop.
The pulsating rhythm of the music and the hushed murmurs of the wedding guests drowns out. All that is left in the room is the two of us. He moans, putting his hand to his jaw, wincing.
"You're never gonna hear from her again. She's long gone." He taunts and I shake my head at him. He never knows when to stop. Using my right hand, I swing at the other side of his face even harder. A shattering pain shoots through my knuckle and I cry out in agony. "Fuck!" I shout, holding my limp hand, jumping up and down to try and distract myself from the pain. The music stops and the crowd goes silent, just watching the scene unfolding in front of them.
A supposedly happy, picture-perfect family - picket fence and all - torn to shreds. Pure entertainment. No one moves, no one says a word. The only sound is of the two of us groaning in pain.
Finally, someone moves, Finn, rushing over to me, "Come on man, we're getting you to the hospital." He grabs my shoulders and I nod my head, keeping my chin down as we weave through the crowd. I catch a glimpse of my Mum, standing there, mortified.
I say nothing and just keep moving along with him, my head hung down in shame. As much as I feel a sense of accomplishment for finally sticking up for myself, I can't help but think about the severe consequences. My family has a good reputation and the slightest wrong turn could tarnish it completely. The last thing I would want is for my families name to be tarnished by my anger-anger-fuelled actions. My family, referring to Mum, Avery and Anna. Not Joseph. As I said before - blow doesn't mean a thing.
We step out of the building and into the cold air. I try my best to keep my hand supported, the pain shooting through my arm and into the rest of my body.
Though, through all of the pain in my hands, I can't keep my mind off of Emilie. No wonder she up an ran after being told that. I would too.
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My shoes squeak on the linoleum floor of the emergency room as I pace back and forth in a desperate effort to distract myself from the throbbing pain in my hand. I just had some x-rays on my hand and now, at 1:30am, we are awaiting the results.
Finn lets out a long groan, running his hands down his face, "Can you stop pacing, it's so annoying." He spurts.
As much as I want to tell him off because he isn't the one with a crushed hand, I decide to do as I'm told, not wanting any more arguments tonight. He did take me to the hospital as well, which of course I am grateful for.
Hospitals are just the most depressing place ever, reeking of sickness and death. You can never be at the hospital for a good reason too, you're either in because you're hurt or sick, or you're visiting a loved one who is hurt or sick. See, never good. The skin on each of my knuckles is cracked and covered dried blood, both from Josephs' face and a few cuts on my hands.
"I can't believe you let yourself get like that, man. In front of everybody too." Finn shakes his head, leaning forward, putting his elbows on his knees.
I throw my head back and let out a long groan. He is right. My entire family was there to see it happen, and family friends. I probably ruined Adeline's wedding too, all over a stupid fight. Well, it wasn't a stupid fight. I just would've been better off happening somewhere else, anywhere else.
"I know, but did you hear with he said to Emilie? For 22 years I've let him fuck around with my life but I won't anymore, I'm sick of it." I say in one long breath.
Finn sighs, turning to me, "What is it about her? It's just... I've never seen you so infatuated by a girl before. In high school, you were the type to take em' then leave em'." He tells me and I nod. I'm not particularly proud of my high school days. I actually have nothing to be proud of the person I was back then.
"She's just different. From the moment I met her, I knew that I wanted to be with her. Not like I did with all those other girls back then. But like, really be with her. She doesn't care about the money or fancy clothes and cars. She cares about her sister and her work. She's different." I tell him honestly, shaking my head in shame. All of this, over one girl. 17-year-old Lukas would be laughing at me right now.
He tilts his head back, letting out a chuckle, "I never thought I would see the day." He announces in disbelief. He pumps a fist in the air and I let out a little chuckle at his celebrations. I never thought I would see the day either.
My entire life I felt had been leading up to one big something. I always thought that it would be me taking over the University, that was what it was always going to be. I had nothing else going for me anyway, I like to read, I can speak French, I walk really fast. That's about it.
For 22 years I have lived according to my Fathers wishes. Never have I done anything because I wanted to do it, something for myself, for my future that I want.
But, then, Emilie turned up. She literally popped up out of nowhere. All I knew was that I was going to be attending 'some silly fundraiser' - according to my Father. It didn't turn out that way, I guess.
As stupid as it sounds, maybe meeting her was my destiny.
I know, I know, stupid. But, if you think about it, maybe it was.
Destiny is your potential waiting to happen. It's the top tier in the grand scheme of possibilities and where your dreams come true. You have to be willing to take that first step to reach your potential, even if it's a risk. With great risk comes great failure. Let's flip that phrase around. With great risk comes great reward. Ultimately, that means there's no greater risk than no risk at all.
My entire life up until this point has been orchestrated by my Father. He used many means to place down each stepping stone for me, one after the other. Just to keep my feet clean.
But my entire life all I wanted was to get my feet dirty. To get out there, take a risk, chase a dream, fall in love - Emilie.
And now that I am getting my feet dirty, it has opened up a new path for me. A path in which I place my own stepping stones while sometimes walking on the bare ground, with bare feet too, just for the thrill of it.
My whirlwind of thoughts is interrupted when the doctor who conducted my x-ray walks into the waiting room and towards Finn and me.
We look at each other and stand up, awaiting the news of what I have done to my hand, "Mr Berkeley," I shudder slightly, "You've broken it, and done a good job at it too." He pulls a large black sheet out of a big envelope. Finn lets out a long groan and I let out a cheer, slapping my knee with my non-broken hand.
I've never broken a bone before, my once clean shoes are now filthy.