Chapter 20: Apologies
*picture above says: "I'm sorry"
Lucian's POV
Gamora chimed in, "Please! Save Isabelle!"
"Alright," I screamed.
I returned to the human realm and it was already dark. Through the plane, I could see she was being led away from Devil's Corner by a bider. She wasn't in any real danger anymore, but what was she doing here anyway? This had to be my father's doing.
She could've seriously been hurt; they don't call it Devil's Corner for no reason. By the time I actually exited the plane I was traveling through, she was sitting on one of the swings in her neighborhood park. She didn't even notice that I was walking close to her.
I stopped about three feet away; she seemed to be deep in thought as her curly, brown hair swayed slightly while she was staring at the ground below the foot of the swing.
I walked to the adjacent swing and sat down; when my presence still went unnoticed by her, I decided to clear my throat to get her attention. She snapped out of her daze and looked to her left in confusion and fear.
She was surprised to see me, and was about to say something, but didn't.
"So, what's so important that you didn't notice someone walking up to you? If I was someone else, you would've been kidnapped by now," I said.
"Well, it's a good thing that it's you, huh?" She joked.
"It's always a good thing that it's me. I mean— who else could be me? No one," I said.
"You must have a master's degree in the language of arrogance," she said.
"I always speak in arrogance, but you didn't answer my question," I said.
"What question?" She asked.
"What's keeping you so deep in thought?"
"Oh, that," she said, "Well, I was with a friend earlier and he was telling me a story and I had a shitty day and I just needed to think and I'm not ready to go home and this is one of my happy places."
"You ramble when you're flustered, huh?"
"Sorry about that. Haven't you heard? About Jen & Jason and all of the other stuff," she asked.
"Yeah and I think you'd be surprised at how I responded."
She tilted her head at me, "What do you mean? How did you respond?"
"I may or may not have said some harsh things to your friend and I also may or may not have broken a few of her boyfriend's friends' bones," I shrugged.
She stared at me in disbelief and let out a gasp, but it was shortly followed by a laugh.
"Tell me you didn't," she laughed more, "But why?" She wiped a tear from her eye.
"They're assholes," I said.
She said, "That's not enough; I want the full story."
"Well, first of all, this morning, I was trying to ask you if you were okay when I tapped you. I was going to be nice to you for once. I'd heard everything when you and Jen squabbled and I was gonna make sure you weren't gonna do anything stupid," I confessed.
"Well, thanks, even though I did run off and do something stupid," she added, "Was that all?"
"Nope. I made her cry."
"Omg! What could you have possibly said to make Jennifer cry?" She asked.
I asked, "Why do you care so much? She's not a good friend for you. Don't you realize that?"
"Are you trying to judge me? I just know you're not criticizing me, Mister rich boy!"
"Really? That's the best you can come up with? Pft. Of course I'm criticizing you; this is one of the biggest mistakes everyone makes. When people show you their true colors, you're supposed to see them vividly. You, on the other hand, are defending her with all your might. I've seen people like you and it's left them in all kinds of devastating situations. I wouldn't want to see you like them," I said.
She really did remind me of some of the damned souls below. A great percentage were damned for revenge because they were wronged by someone they trusted. They never believed anyone else when it came to that friend, and in the end, they only received death from their betrayer.
"She was there for me when no one else was! Where were you? Who are you to be lecturing me, grandpa? Don't even go there with me! Jen may have admittedly done some very shitty things, but I could never toss her aside like trash. All these years can't just be thrown away & flushed down the drain. At one point, she was literally the only person I had. THE ONLY PERSON. You'd never understand," she said.
"I beg to differ," I countered, "You only say that because you've stereotyped me. You don't know the half of my life and what I've had to endure. I can talk about your situation because I've seen it more times that I can count. It happens everyday. Don't you get it?"
"You're the one that doesn't get it and why are you speaking in tongues? Are you God or something?"
I replied, "Ugh, don't involve Father, please, but if you say so. I'll leave it alone, dumbass."
She stood up in annoyance, "Really? Just because we have different views? You're the worst! And to think that I once called you my friend, even for a brief second."
"See? You have terrible judgment! Take your own words for it; you can't possibly see anything good coming from still being friends with her," I reasoned.
"For the last time: You don't understand!"
"Then explain," I said with a shrug.
She sat back down in her swing, "Jennifer was my first friend. She was the only person who actually talked to me and she held my hand. She acknowledged me, even though I wasn't popular or rich or white. I was just plain ole me and it felt good to finally have someone see me for me and it felt good to finally have someone to be there for me. I never knew how deep bonds were, but now that I have it, I don't wanna lose it."
She sniffled and wiped her gleaming tears, leaving me in silence.
"So that's it," I finally said.
"That's it," she said.
Time passed by swiftly and it was soon eleven o'clock; we were still sitting in the swings, enjoying each other's silent company.
She finally broke the silence, "It's getting late. I'd better get home."
"Yea, you should." I said
"Goodnight," she waved.
I stood up and followed suit.
"Where are you going?" She asked me.
"I'm walking you home," I replied nonchalantly.
"You have a car. Why not just drive me?" She inquired, "Are you going to kidnap me and sell me? Should I be afraid?"
I answered coolly, "You should be very afraid, but not for that reason. To answer your question, it's because I don't want to make any noise and cause speculation about your relationship with me. Who knows what your parents would think if they saw you with me— especially at this time of night?"
"Right," she nodded.
•
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•
"Do you know the story of Devil's Corner?" She asked.
I halted my steps. "Why?" I asked.
"My friend was telling me the story, but he never finished. Do you think you could finish it if you know the story?"
"Sure. How far did your friend get?"
"The part about him smiling at Lucille & George."
Hmm, I had to think. That was a very long time ago. I can't believe people still go crazy about this story.
"Ah! Okay, he helped Lucille & George up from the ground and smiled at them. He then sniffed the air and smelled a scrumptious scent. He asked Lucille what it was and she told him that it was a freshly baked apple pie. He made a deal with Lucille," I said.
"What!? Why are you stopping? Finish what you were saying! What was the deal?"
I chuckled, "The deal was that if Lucille took him to have a piece of that apple pie, then he'd heal Lucille and George and make sure her neighbors were safe. She agreed and led The King of Hell to her house, and invited him in to enjoy a slice of pie. That's how that place got its name."
I added, "The question is how do you know about that place? It's pretty rough that way."
She answered, "I stumbled there accidentally in a fit of anger, but my friend helped me home. I hope he's alright."
"Oh trust me, he is."
"How do you know?" She asked.
"If he was capable of bringing you back, then he's capable of returning safely."
"You're right," she said.
"We're here," I said.
"Thanks, Luce," she said. She made her way to her front porch, but turned midway, "Quit staring at my ass. It's creepy to watch people walk away, remember?"
I smiled, "You're absolutely right, but I can't help it. It's nature." I shrugged with a beaming smile.
When she made it to the front door, her hand grazed the door knob. Just as I was about to turn and leave, she shouted, "Your story telling sucks! Goodnight!"
How dare she!?