Authors note: So, it's kind of frustrating losing people because my story got dark. I know, I know. I can't please everyone. It was never my intention to have this story be happy, happy. So, I'm just going to warn you all right now. Don't expect a happily ever after. I'm just warning you. Alright, the review count for the last chapter was great. I hope to see more of you with this update. Please enjoy!
When I woke up, if I was indeed awake, I felt like hell.
My head kept rocking back and forth. My brain felt like a ball rolling round and round within my cranium. It kept bumping against the sides of my skull, giving me a splitting headache. My eyes were drowsy and caked with sleep. I licked my dry lips. They tasted of old eggs. It made me wretch.
When I slipped out of my bed, I instantly fell to the floor. My legs felt like overcooked spaghetti noodles; limp and jiggled. I tried to crawl. I made it halfway out my door before collapsed, exhausted.
"What the hell?" I exasperated, reaching for the stairs railing. Thank God for that.
As I dragged myself downstairs, I felt the urgent need to dunk my head in orange water.
Kill me.
"Well good morning Mary…you're up late this morning."
My mother's voice sounded like a long blurb of a broken radio. It kept making the same sound and yet I could never understand what she was trying to convey. Her mouth was still moving as my quaking body took a seat in the nearest chair. I held my head, trying to slow down the speed of my day.
"Hello, Mary?!" she screamed.
Everything within me ached. I clamped my hands against my ears as I glared in my mom's direction.
"I'm right here…" I whispered, "You don't have to yell…"
She shrugged at my statement. "You weren't responding…sorry. Anyhow, I was trying to say Oliver already left. You'll have to take the bus today."
I nodded. Even that made my head hurt. I returned to just covering my face in my misery.
"You hungry?" my mother inquired, indifferently placing a heaping plate of bacon and pancakes in front of my face. The food made me want to barf. The aroma attacked my nose like nails. My stomach churned as I was unable to withhold a groan.
"Not hungry." I gulped down the digested food surging up my throat. "Whatsoever…"
I glanced at my mother who wasn't convinced. She had one hand on her hip that only meant "I know what you're up to and I knew it before you were even up to it." Her head fell on her right shoulder in a disgruntled manner. And then, if she really knew something was up, she would suck her teeth.
And that's exactly what she was doing…right…now.
"You've got a hangover."
I sighed.
So I really did get drunk last night.
"Don't you?!" my mother demanded. Through the pain, I nodded vigorously as she slumped into the seat across from me. Now her hands were folded…things were about to get worse.
"What happened?" she said. The sound of her tongue rubbing against the inside of her mouth made my skin crawl like spiders inching up my back.
"Nothing," I said through the twinges of worry.
"So…let me get this straight. While you were doing nothing…you were getting drunk? Oh, that makes perfect sense!"
I groaned, her loud voice resulting in the ringing of my head. "Mom…if I could just explain…it was-"
"Explain what?!" she clamored with clenched fist, "Explain how you've dropped off in all of your classes. Explain how I never, ever see you in any extracurricular activities anymore. Explain how…how I don't even see you in the house anymore. I mean…what the hell is going on?"
"Mom…can you please just calm down. Or…be quiet."
The opening between my mother's lips began to slowly close as I lifted my heavy head to speak.
"It…I was…Melody and Vida invited me on a girls night out. And since I…I never do anything fun, I went downtown with them. Melody…she bought some beer. She was depressed…just so then…it just all went downhill from there."
I paused.
"She put some whiskey in my water and then I they left because Melody thought…er, I can't remember. Something about a car. I felt sick so I sat, safe and sound, on an ice cream shops steps. After that...all I remember is…I returned safely home…and puked outside. Nothing happened. Nothing…was meant to happen."
My mother's arms were still tightly crossed but the skin against her cheek bones looked believingly relaxed. My soul was able to rest…for a moment.
"So…you went downtown…without telling me?" she murmured, in a strangely calm voice. She didn't sound upset. She sounded saddened.
I nodded to her inquiry. "Yeah…it was an impulse. A stupid…impulse."
This, for some reason, made my mother give a hint of a smile. I didn't understand. I didn't try to. It was probably some parental achievement that I need not bother my sorry, banging head with.
"So…how did you get home?" she said after a moment of silence.
My body instantly stiffened as the words were dispersed. My head began to race as I tried to recall last night. Through the beer, whiskey, and drunkenness, something had to be feasible. I could scarcely remember an arm assisting me down the road. It was strong and firm. It was familiar. I had begged for it to stay with me. I had proclaimed truthfulness to the figure.
The beautiful figure.
"Bastion…" I whispered, the name making my mouth water, "Bastion…Bastion walked me home…"
"Bastion…who the hell is Bastion?!" my mother questioned in vexation.
I was in the process of staring at my mother with utter amazement when I realized she had no knowing of any guy named Bastion Welles. Whenever my tongue possibly spoke just a snippet of him, I either called him "Beanie" or "the Guy". I never knew why. I suppose keep him a secret made him less real. In some way, it kept my mind less consumed.
But my mother's furious, confused gaze was unshakeable. I sighed.
"He's a guy at school…" I muttered.
She shrugged. "How come I haven't heard about him till now?"
I looked at the floor, the dark wood floor for answers. It only made my uncertainties solidify in reality.
"I don't know him…very well…" I muttered.
"You knew him well enough to have him walk you home."
I shuddered. "I was drunk…I didn't have time to notice. Besides…it doesn't even matter. Why…why do you even care?"
With a compressed jaw, my mom crossed her legs and leaned heavily against the back of her chair. She rubbed her cheeks as her eyes slowly closed. And then, like a storm cloud had overcome the room, her head fell with gray. Her expression made something inside of me collapse…and then burst.
"I hate it here!" my voice cried.
My mother bolted up in a rush of fright.
"But," I said quickly and truthfully, "But I don't want to leave."
The terror on her face instantly vanquished into perplexity.
"I don't fit in here. People at school make rumors about me. They stare and point at me. They steal my clothes and ruin my lunches. They think I'm a bitch. They think I'm a killer. Even if that Julie Barker was the one trying to kill me. But they never see it…they never care to even try. Truthfully Mom, it's worse than before."
Her face sunk in.
But a grinned crept its way upon my lips.
"Then there's Leon and his group of friends. They just…make me feel alive. They never judge me. They never gave me a label. They just…I don't know…it's like…I was supposed to be with them. Especially Leon. When I'm with him…I feel wanted. He makes these weird scenarios and faces that make me just want to laugh. And then he can be serious…just like that! He understands me...he just seems to care."
There was a silence.
"And Bastion…I don't-don't know where to start. I don't know if there ever was…a beginning. He's a mystery…a mystery I would want to spend forever…trying to figure out."
A few minutes later, I realized how long my idiotic and immature lecture had progressed. I rolled my eyes as I slouched farther in my seat. I despised giving rants. It was much easier when people didn't care at all.
But my mother was different.
She just sat there.
And then she smiled.
"You don't want to leave?" she murmured.
I thought a moment. It was a moment I truly never needed. "No."
Her smile broadened. "A shower and some vegetable juice will help the hangover. Now…get to school…you'll be late.
"Mary, I am so sorry! I can't even tell you how…ugh, just embarrassed I am. I am just so, so, so, so sorry! Ugh…forgive me? Pleaseeeee?! I'm just so sorry!"
I was hoping, by some miracle from above, I would be struck deaf that very moment. Melody was inadvertently trying to wish death upon me with her fervent apologizes. She was wrapped around my arm, clinging for dear life. Her hangover had seemed to pass. Mine was still subsiding.
But her guilty behavior seemed somewhat genuine.
I gave a reassuring smile.
"It's fine…I know you didn't mean it," I murmured, gently pushing her away.
She shook her head. "No it's not. I was freaking drunk! I could've killed you!"
"I got drunk on a pint of whiskey…I'll be fine."
And in an instance, Vida switched places with Melody and began to express regret also. I listened politely but truly had my attention focused on the beetle inching its way across the crumb infested floors a few yards away. I smiled to myself, watching as it walked through the mess, confused and overwhelmed. It didn't know where to go. It didn't know why it had come. It didn't know who to trust. But it was here…and it wouldn't turn back.
"Are you staring at a bug?"
I gasped, glancing at Leon who was stealing my yogurt. "No. I was looking at the lunch line. I'm just surprised…the last slice of pizza hasn't been taken. It even has pepperoni."
He rolled his eyes. "You were staring at a bug."
I giggled to myself and next at myself.
Then I stopped, realizing I had been staring at me.
The lunch bell rang out of nowhere. I hadn't even completed my ham sandwich. Harry quickly took care of that problem. I tucked the rest of my lunch in my already stuffed bag and began to exit the cafeteria with Ryan.
In a turn of events, Mrs. Steel had cancelled class. It almost felt like a dream. Until I learned that my gym would be pushed up an hour and I would have to study in the library for History. Things always seemed to fall back to…equilibrium.
So I went to the locker room and pulled on my loose fitting sweats and sneakers. I hid my clothes in the dirtiest locker before making my way to the gymnasium.
"Mary, go retrieve the balls from the football field and organize them." Coach Kelly, the girl's instructor, murmured.
I shrugged. "But…shouldn't I be in class?" I said in a small voice.
"Mary, get the balls!" she hollered.
My feet couldn't run fastest enough from the lady. I raced out of the school so quickly, I almost forgot my task. However, when I noticed the variety of sports balls strewn throughout the field, my convictions quickly came to surface. With my brittle legs, I began with the soccer balls crowding the twenty-yard line. Who would leave all these balls, I wouldn't know. But I truthfully didn't mind. At least I didn't have to play a sport with the objects.
I was trying to dig some baseballs out of the turf when I heard a certain noise come from the corner of the playing field. I was on my knees, trying to avoid getting dirt on my arms, when I glanced behind my shoulder.
One must understand my surprise when I out of the corner of my right, glassy eye, I saw Bastion.
His shirt was removed, revealing his lovely torso. And he was running…was any further description needed?
"Wait!" I shouted to myself, "What is he doing here?"
At that very moment, I heard him call "Mary?" My eyes enlarged as scrambled to my feet. I groaned, finding the stadium entirely enclosed. There was no way to escape the field. I could act like I hadn't heard him but my big, curious eyes had already ogled all over his body. No…that wouldn't work.
And then, to add insult to pained, bloody injury, I whirled around to him. Through the blistering wind, I gazed right at him!
Soon, he was but two feet from me. Regrettably, he pulled on his shirt. Then he just stood.
Now, I would have to speak.
"I was drunk," I whispered.
My sigh was so heavy following this statement, I believed with it I had also but the world under a deep sleep.
But not Bastion; he still was there.
And he never laughed.
"I know," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. His head leaned forward, as if I said something he was dying to hear. The action made me inch in reverse.
Not only did Bastion make me feel like we were strangers every time we met, I had no idea of my acts last night. I had arrived safely home…but with what baggage? The thought made me want to puke again. I defied the tempting urge.
"Forget…that…I ever said that," I muttered, eyeing him as he neared me, "I should…I mean…what are you doing here?"
I could always tell when Bastion was going to smile; but not just a smile. No, he would give beam reminiscent of an arch from heaven. It was golden and luminous. It made me turn away in mortification and unworthiness. And yet, I just had to take a peek, and bask in the abyss of marvel. For a moment, I looked, and I lived.
"I'm staying," he whispered.
I forced myself up. "…what?"
"Kingston…I'm staying here," he declared, "Just…just like you wanted." He gave a wondrous laugh. "Through the puke and tears…I listened to you."
The mounting grin on my face abruptly evaporated, as did my pride and anything else of significant meaning.
"Did…I…" the next words making me sick before even being spoken, "Did I puke on you?
The unforgiving smirk Bastion gave me next had me fidgeting with my fingers into infinity. He never answered that question. And yet I suppose, in that way, he never wanted me to mind. I never bothered myself with the little embarrassing incident ever again.
"You're little up-chuck isn't all you have to agonize about…" he whispered in the most devious of voices. "You had some other lovely statements I would die to hear again."
My small mouth parted. "What…did I say?"
He sneered. "You asked that question as well last night. I wonder why?"
I lurched towards him. He lurched back.
"Bastion Welles…I…what did I say?"
He turned in my direction. He closed his eyes. He tapped his wet sneaker. He straightened his shirt. He brushed his hair. He did a meaningless walk. And then he smiled that smile. That same smile.
"Come to my home…maybe I'll tell you."
I thought of nothing but that smile.
"Okay…"
It was a glass room. I dare not touch anything. Everything looked as if it would shatter with one graze of the finger. So I crossed my arm as I tip-toed into the clear yet dark space. I shielded my eyes as I entered into the sun. It shadowed in through the large, gaping window like draping, golden curtain. I danced through its rays and stepped on its soul. It filled me with warmth from my toes to my aching head. And so I smiled.
"What is this room?" I said, the glowing colors of the stained glass window vibrating beneath my feet.
Bastion looked to the ceiling, "This is where we prayed…"
My legs instantly halted. "Pray?" my shaky voice crooned.
As I slowly lifted my head to level, I noticed the several pew-like chairs. I stared for awhile. Did the Welles seriously have a church in their house? It was certainly big enough.
This wasn't a mansion…this was a city.
"Yes," he answered as I neared one of the benches, "My parents, my sisters, and I would pray every morning for exactly one hour…it was tradition."
I uneasily sat down. "What did you pray for?"
Bastion was currently spinning gleefully in the light when he realized I had inquired of him. He slowed himself before suddenly dropping to the ground. He sat down in a particular positioning, clasping his knees.
"For love," he said after much thought, "Yes…of that I am certain."
I found myself quacking from within when he laid his back against the floor and closed his eyes. He looked so calm; he was beyond this earth. In other world, he did belong.
And in that way, we were the same.
"We don't pray anymore…" I heard him whisper abruptly, "My father believes there is nothing left to pray for…we have everything."
He grinned. "Life is better with nothing." My body trembled when his eyes shot open. He turned to observe me. "When I was young, I didn't understand we were rich. My parents were Charles and Alendra Welles. Whenever that was said…any person of high-standing was instantly silenced. But I didn't know that. All I knew was I had a lot of toys, our family had a lot of cars, and my sisters had a lot, and I mean of a lot of dresses; those horribly fluffy, lacy things."
I giggled as did he.
"But…I never knew there were people not like us. I thought…everyone and everything in the world was perfect. It was only when we prayed that I learned…there was suffering. That there was…something to pray for." His fingers quivered through the words. "Now…how I wish I could return pain for prayer. But…my family has abandoned such things. Now, we understand riches. Now…we understand the truth."
A silence persisted for several minutes.
"Why don't you just pray…alone?" I questioned, the bottled up words spewing from my mouth.
Bastion's glazed over eyes examined my lips and then the words. He shook his head ever so slowly as his body crumpled.
"God wouldn't listen to my prayers…not now."
I furrowed my brow as I peered over the side of the pew to gaze at Bastion's broken expression. His face looked creased and strangely old. The lines along his cheeks caved in with distress. That seemed to beckon for something; beckon for safety.
"I'm not religious…" I murmured, "But I think he would…"
Dark overcame the room. "Mary…some things are never to be forgiven. My mother and father have made that perfectly clear."
I stopped myself from blurting out an unnecessary question. I had so many within me; I had to bite my lips in order not to speak. I decided just to stare at Bastion. And through the silence, he slowly sat up. He grasped his knees as he gradually opened his eyes.
They were cold. They shivered. Tundra had overcome their warmth, departing them with an icy glow.
I was chilled by his stare. I was frightened.
"I always did as I was told," he murmured into the coming night, "Failure couldn't even be contemplated. My parents never smiled. If right was done, they just nodded factually. Success was a given. But when I failed…when I did…all went black."
There was a break in his speech. My chest was pounding, the beats loud enough to resound of the walls. And he still gazed. He remained frozen.
"All the nodding…I was drowned in scowls and sneers. And even if it wasn't my fault…they could make it so. They could make anything so. So…I would thrash…I did thrash…but they still made it so. It was my fault…even though my father gave me the…"
Everything stopped. Bastion instantly rose to his feet. I was still processing his words when I noticed he was breathing faint but heavily. He examined my eyes.
"I think I've spoken out of turn…" he muttered, "I'm done."
I nodded abruptly. "That's fine."
It wasn't but I wouldn't tell him that. I wouldn't tell him that with every word he said, I became closer to him. I wouldn't tell him that with every new sentence, more fear entered my soul. No. I wouldn't say anything.
And then, I said everything.
"You want…you want to just…walk around?" I asked.
Something was eating at Bastion. He was still sullenly standing in the middle of the floor. He looked so disheartened. It was almost as if someone had taken his soul away.
I just wanted to say something. Usually when I did, I messed everything up. But I couldn't stand to see him there. It made me ache from within.
When I said the words, first his face flinched, like he was still reminiscing about the words he had said before. But then he looked at me and a fraction of his usual brightness shown on his face.
"I'd like that…"
"Bastion Welles…you give me back my shoe!"
"Mary Brighton...calm down!"
"Give me back my shoe!"
"Never…"
He smirked, flaunting my converse in my face. I looked at him pleadingly. He escaped, farther down into the crevices of the manor.
Oh, how I tried to put my excitement into words. I tried to think to myself what was happening. Well…I had been "playing" with Bastion for three hours now.
How could I put that into words? I could make it seem good or bad.
All I could was run. Run with an unprecedented smile on my face.
"Boo!" he screamed, jumping from behind the huge ivory door. I screamed gleefully, reaching for the shoe that was clasped in his right hand. I regretted seeming so excited. Cheerfulness always made a person look simpler. And yet, I couldn't help myself.
I was just happy. I was alive.
"You give me back my shoe or I tell the whole school your dating that freak Julie Barker," I said, the words tasting so cruel yet powerful on my tongue.
Bastion's face glowered. "No one will believe you!"
I neared his face preciously, "You don't think so. Or are you just bluffing?"
He cowered. "I don't know…maybe."
"Maybe about what?" I demanded with a sly scoff.
"I want to kiss you."
I hadn't heard him clearly. I couldn't have. "Excuse me?" I said in a mousy voice.
Bastion lurched forward. "Last night…I wanted to kiss you. I still want to kiss you."
The words sent me flying back so fast, I could feel the wind moving between my bones. I clutched the door knob so tightly I was certain it was within seconds of breaking off. Why had he ruined everything? Everything had been so comfortable and serene. Everything had been like a dream…everything had been perfect.
Or…maybe…I just didn't want them to get any better.
"No." I said, trying to slip out of the room. I couldn't open the door. It was latched shut. Had he locked the door on me?!
"You're not fond of me in that way?" Bastion said in a hurt voice. It made me want to scream.
"No." I said again, "Just don't…don't kiss me. You don't like…like that. No one does."
"How can you speak for feelings that are not your own?" he inquired, inching towards me. He was trying to seduce me! No…who would try to do that?! He was coming closer…and closer. Why couldn't I just drop dead?!
"Bastion…you don't like me. I'm a freak…and…I….I collect Barbie posters."
"Wonderful…" he said, coming ever so quickly towards my body.
"I'm scared of fluffy slippers!"
"Inspiring…"
"I can't eat tomatoes!"
"I know…" he whispered, now right upon me, "They make your face blow up…you're delightful, sculptured face-"
"Just shut up!" I screamed, my eyes closing.
Oh…how wrong of words were those to say?
Sometimes I didn't understand the world. Why did children run out into the middle of the street when cars were zooming past? Why did companies continue to make canned veal when no one buys it? What was the purpose of mosquitoes?
But all those questions seemed perfectly clear compared to the one I asked myself this very moment.
Why were Bastion's charming, enchanting, tender, gentle lips against my chapped, cold-sore infested mouth?
He had me pinned against the door, my back being crushed against door knob. I had one shoe on and the other was still grasped in his hand. It was right next to my ear seeing as his arm was wrapped around my head. His other hand was wrapped around my waist, enclosing me in his hold. He ran his hand through my tangled hair, making it almost feel pretty. I had to have lost my mind for my left hand was comfortably placed upon his cheek.
And so we kissed.
It was a wonderful kiss. For a few seconds he would move away, and then decide for some insane reason, to kiss me again.
And I couldn't believe I didn't push him away. I just let him kiss me.
I could feel his lips caressing the side of mouth when all at once, the wonderful madness stopped.
"What was that?" I breathed, hearing a loud slam in the distance.
Bastion had me locked in his arm. He abruptly moved his face from my own. Paleness overcame his expression. He tightly clutched my hand as he peered outside of the door. Another loud slam came. His body began to shake.
"You have to get out of here," he said quickly as he lunge me forward.
I shook my head. "What…why? What's going on? What are those noises?"
"Be quiet," he commanded as we hastily paced throughout the hallways. All I wanted was to be kissing him again. But I could see on his face that that flat out wasn't going to happen.
"Can you at least tell me what's going on?" I whispered.
Bastion said nothing; he just kept pulling me further. Soon, we were in a frantic run. I couldn't take a breath. I couldn't try to reason with him. I could only run.
Blindly passing the parlor, I found myself outside in the darkness with Bastion. He was panting. I was panting. It had been quite a walk.
"You need to go home," he said with one final exhale.
I stared at him in bewilderment. Hadn't our lips been locked just moments before?
"What are you talking about? Don't you wanna…I don't know…talk, perhaps?"
He shook his head sternly. "No…now go home."
I turned away a second, almost tempted to believe him. But I didn't believe. Not after today.
"I'm not leaving," I said firmly, "I know whatever you're doing right now is not you…this doesn't even make any sense."
"It doesn't have to. You need to go."
Another thud from within the house sounded off. Bastion's eyes enlarged with fear.
"Now!" he screamed.
I trembled. "No…"
"Mary…go!"
"You…you kissed me…so that means you like me. And you wouldn't do this if you liked me."
"I don't care, get out!" he shouted all the more.
And the memories came flooding back. And with…came flooding tears.
"You can't do this…" I begged, "Not like all the others…not like them. You're like them!"
"Shut up and leave!" he screamed.
"Bastion, you're good…just…explain to me what's going on. Let me…let me stay."
"Mary Brighton, get out! I don't want to see you!"
I stared him, trying to find something new to say. Trying to find words that would make this nightmare vanish. But all the words had been said. Everything had already been done.
I gave one lasting look Bastion before I disappeared into the night.
All I saw was black in his eyes.
Just like he said…everything went black.
I ran home in a frenzy. No thoughts were clear. Nothing made sense. My lips still tasted like his. I tried to wipe his passion away. I got on the first bus I saw. I didn't know if it was taking me home or not. I just had to get away.
It was an hour before I ended up at my doorstep. I had never been so glad to be home.
I walked in the door, hoping to just cry myself to sleep. But no, not here.
"Give my money!" were the first words I heard when I entered into the house.
My father was home. My real father. My real life.
"Give it to me, bitch!" he screamed. He always screamed. My tears fell down my face.
I heard my mom yell at him. I heard John yell at him. So I walked away, out of the neighborhood, out of the nightmare.
Where else was there for me to go? Where else would someone take me in? I was such lonely soul. I had been always been. Nothing changed and yet every time, it hurt more.
But at least this time, I wouldn't be shut out in the cold. At least this time, there was a glimmer of light.
"Leon?" my shattering voice said into the dark of night, "Leon?"
The door to the house opened and I saw his face. The tears spilled from my eyes. He grabbed my sweater and wrapped me in his arms. At least I had his arms.
This time, in my misery, I had something to hold onto.
Authors note: With finals, I wasn't able to check the grammar of this at all. I just had to post it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes that ruin the flow of the chapter.