There is a tsunami of heterogenous emotions swirling inside me, but hunger dominated them all. Clutching my stomach in a tight grip with my arms I flop flat on my bed as my body whines at the lack of food.
Caught in a dilemma I refuse to let the rational part of my brain convince myself to go down for dinner. My jumbled hormones also play a major role in intensifying my stubbornness, it doesn't help that all of my emotions clash together like angry waves in the ocean.
My phone buzzes to life demanding my attention, a nervous smile curves my lips at the sight of my lit-up screen. 'I didn't think this through!'. Hesitantly I lift my phone and bring it closer to my face just to make sure I didn't misread the text.
'How stupid could I be!'
But it's too late to think about that now, I have already made my bed and now I will have to lay in it. Caught between anger and hurt, I didn't take the time to think about my idea though. All I can do now is hope that things don't get out of hand.
"Querida open the door, at least come down for dinner!" I hear Noah's voice yell, just loud enough that it will travel through the thick mahogany door.
I huff stubbornly and refuse to even respond to him, but my stomach growls in objection to my attitude and lack of food. My hunger I have a temporary solution to, but my stubbornness? I don't think anyone in the world has a solution to that.
Jumping out of bed I scurry towards the secret compartment in my closet where I stashed away my entire supply of snacks and candy, I had brought during my trip to the mall.
Moving the floorboard to revile a secret compartment in the floor, I grabbed a packet of salted chips and seal it again, but before I do my eyes land on the shining silver box at the bottom of the section.
My mum's face immediately flashes in front of my eyes and out of nowhere tears gather in my eyes. 'If she was still alive none of this would be happening'.
Taking the box out carefully, I visually examine it a thousand unasked and unanswered question resurfacing in my mind. Grabbing the jewelry box in one hand and the packet of chips in the other I proceed back into the comfort of my room.
Flopping on my bed I carefully place the box in the middle of the bed. I busy myself in munching on my chips—in hopes of shutting my stomach up—while my eyes remain hooked on the shine silver jewelry box.
The jiggling of my doorknobs disturbs my concentration and snaps me out of my trance. The doorknob continues to jiggle, but the door doesn't barge all thanks to the chair acting as a double locking system.
"Can't I just fucking break the door open?!" Jack's voice is laced with exasperation, antagonism, and a hint of concern and guilt?
'Well they should feel guilty'
I make my way towards the wall adjacent to the door, sliding down I bring my knees to my chest, I continue to eat while eavesdropping on their ongoing and seemingly heated conversation.
"Get your anger under control Jack. We need to give her some space, all this must be hard on her." I identify Jason's voice suggests.
"Get my fucking anger under control?!" Jack scoffs. "This is all your fault-" Is all I heard him say after which the sound of something breaking invades my ears, startling me half to death.
'What the heck is happening out there?'
'But then again ignorance is bliss'
I look down at the packet in my hands only to find it empty, groaning in annoyance I get up from my place, discarding the empty packet in the bin I proceed back to my bed.
My eyes once again land on mum's jewellery box that is sitting in the middle of my bed staring at me. Mum's words start replaying in my mind on repeat telling me to wait for the right time to come, but on the other hand, the jewelry box keeps staring at me with a taunting look nagging me to open it.
'When will this right time come?'
'What if this isn't a right time at all'
'What if...'
My train of thoughts reaches a stop when realization hit me like ice-water on a winter night, 'there isn't a right time for anything. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, whether I open this box today or ten years later there will still be consequences to it, they may change, but they will still be there'
Keeping that in mind I gently take the box in my hand, running my fingers across it I observe the roughness of the antic design on it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I take a deep breath and lift the lid of the box...
But it doesn't open. I grasp the bottom half of the box in one hand and using all my might try to prey the upper half-open, but it won't barge. This brought me to the conclusion that the box is locked.
Bringing it closer to my eyes, I try to spot the keyhole, but I find none. 'How can this be possible?' It's like the box is glued together by some kind of super glue.
Defeated, yet very intrigued I decide to find a way to open it. But for that, I would have to do some research and a whole lot of digging. Stashing the box back into the hidden compartment, I head back to my bed.
'Come to think of it, who build that hidden compartment in my closet?'
This mansion hold a lot of secrets and mysteries and I plan on uncovering them all. As my brain goes wild with ideas to open the box, my stomach comes back to life.
Knowing that I can't ignore my hunger for too long and that another packet of chips isn't going to do me or my growling tummy any good, I decide to finally go downstairs for dinner, but only after making sure that no one else is lurking around downstairs.
Creeping down the stairs in the most serial killer way known to mankind, engulfed by complete darkness, I use my phone's flashlight to navigate through it.
On reaching the kitchen, I jump in fright when the lights turn on all of a sudden without my interference. I look around frantically and relax when I spot no one around. Sighing I realize that it was the motion sensor that turned them on.
With my hands still resting on my chest and my heart rate still speeding, I glance around the kitchen while my mind comes up with a way to arrange food. A florescent color catches my eye, turning to look at it more closely I notice a sticky note posted on the microwave.
Making sure that I remain light on my feet, I tiptoed towards it. Pulling it off the door of the microwave, I examine the note and the words written on it.
You want your space and I completely understand, but you and I both know that taking your anger out on your food isn't good. Knowing you I'm sure that you must be ravenous, so I saved you some dinner.
P.S There is a surprise waiting for you in the fridge and congratulation once again on winning today, we couldn't be more proud.
-Santos
I read and reread the note a couple more times and yet I fail to identify who the handwriting belongs to. Their gesture screams care and love, but I refuse to let their thoughtfulness warm my heart and burn down the wall of anger I have encaged my heart in.
'If I forgive them this time then I'm never going to find the answers to my questions'
Sticking the note to the counter, I open the microwave and pull out the plate full of divine smelling nosh. My brows pinch together forming a frown when I see the unfamiliar dish. The meat seems to be wrapped in a blanket of puffed pasta looking substance with a little deep red almost maroon sauce drizzled around it.
Grabbing a fork and knife I dive into the mouthwatering dish. In just a matter of minutes, my plate is empty and my tummy is happy.
Opening the fridge I'm greeted by the sight of a generous slice of baked Alaska sitting on the middle shelve. My eyes light up like a LED and my lips stretch into a brilliant smile I fail to stifle.
Washing the dishes once I'm done, I decide against going back to bed. I have way too many thoughts churning and turning in my mind right now and sleep refused to welcome me.
Tiptoeing out of the kitchen, I notice the light automatically dim themselves letting darkness engulf me once again. Switching on the flashlight on my phone once again I maneuver my way towards the basement, where the home gym is situated.
Ignoring all the other equipment in the room, I head straight towards the mini basketball section of the room. The gym took up the entire basement, with half now converted into a mini basketball court.
Picking up a basketball from the rack holding over six of them, I aimlessly shoot it towards the net. Rebounding on the board it comes back in my direction and I catch it with ease.
I throw the ball back towards the net only this time with twice the force and a better aim. Passing through the net, it hits the floor, the sound of which reverberates throughout the room.
Picking another ball from the reck I do the same and with each throw, the force I use on it intensifies. Releasing all my built-up emotion in this manner feels good, at least I'm not harming anyone in the process.
"I didn't realize that you were this hurt," a familiar soft voice says causing me to halt midway from taking my shot.
Turning to face her, a sigh of defeat leaves my lips. "I don't know how I feel, all I know is that I don't feel equal," saying this I release the ball from my hand—my face still directed towards her.
"Nice shot!" She says as the ball bounces on the floor.
"Thanks," I mumble. Closing my eyes I try to drown out everything else and just concentrate on the net.
Turning towards the rack to grab another ball, I realize that there aren't any left. "Here, " she says passing me the ball near her, before taking a seat on the floor at the edge of the court line.
This pattern continues—she collects the ball and passes it to me—and I take my anger out on the ball and the poor basket.
"You're not letting them off the hook that easily this time, are you?" She asks solemnly. I side glance at her—as I score yet again—and notice the knowing look in her eyes.
"Fallon... It's not that easy," I try putting my perspective forward. Catching the ball she tosses my way, I sigh and turn to face her with the ball still in my hands.
"I trust them, more than anyone on this planet... But it hurts-hurts when they keep me in the dark. I'm just so mad at them, that I don't even know what to do. Sometimes I feel like they haven't even accepted me as their sister at all!" As I confess my true feeling, my anger starts building up yet again. Enraged I turn and fling the ball towards the basket with all my force.
"They do love you, more than anything and anyone. Sure they are terrible at showing it sometimes, but they do," her tone laced in honestly.
"Well, then they need to stop treating me like an outsider," I counter with an angry huff.
"What can I say, boys are dummies," she chortles which is contagious enough that I can't stop myself from giggling too.
She doesn't say anything more after that and I continue to shoot some hoops. The sound of the ball hitting the board and the floor are the only sounds filling the silence between us.
"You have a plan don't you?" She says breaking the silence between us.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter under my breath, yet audible.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," She claims in an accusing tone with an edge of humor to her tone.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," I state lifting my shoulder into a half-shrug.
Author's Note:
I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading. I've been so caught up with exams lately that I completely lost track of time and to be honest I totally procrastinated with writing this chapter.
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And do stay safe and happy
~Kia