KACELY
Song: Vulnerable- Selena Gomez
A continuous sound of what seems to be knocking interrupts my dream. I open my eyes, but I can barely see. I'm way too sleepy. It takes a while for me to register that it's from the window. The light from the TV has lit up the room but I still can't make out what or who it is.
"Kacely..." It calls out and I think I recognise the voice. Is it... Is it Az?
"Kacely..." It repeats and I rub my eyes to make sure I am awake . Am I dreaming about this girl now? Has it gotten to that?
"Kacely..." It calls again
"Az?" I call back, reluctantly untangling myself from the beddings. I peep one more time to confirm who it actually is. It is her. I hurriedly walk towards the window and slide it open so she can get in. She throws her sneakers in first and carefully enters, avoiding the books on my cupboard.
"What are you doing here?" I ask her, slowly sliding the window closed. My gaze switches between the window and her and I open the blind one more time, to look outside. Did she... "Did you climb the tree to get in here?"
"Yes, I did. Sorry I woke you up." She apologises and I look at my clock, it's almost 11pm. " I know how awkward it must be; me coming to your room so late but... I just had to get away from the house for a bit."
"Why... Did ... Did something happen?" I ask softly, still feeling sleepy.
She tears down her walls for the third time this weekend and hurries into my arms, letting herself cry again...
"Shhh..." I muse. "Don't cry." I add and pull her towards the bed. I cause her to lay her head on my thighs as I run my fingers up and down the length of her slender back.
"Did something else happen?" I press. I know she would rather not talk about it, but I have to know.
"No... Yes, not really but... Let's just not talk about it." She begs again."Can I sleep here? I know it's too much, but I really can't go home now. I can't be around all those people." She sobs and uses the edges of my blue pyjamas to wipe away her unending tears.
"You can. Only if you promise to stop crying. You've cried enough since Friday, don't you think?" I negotiate and she nods. "Plus you have to be really quiet. My mom doesn't need to know you're here"
"I know you still don't want to tell me what happened so I won't push you. But know that it's terribly uncomfortable to see you like this and not know the reason why or be able to do anything about it."
"They threw me a party." She exhales.
"Who's they?"
"Gramps and his girlfriend and Bryana..."
"What's so wrong about that?" I ask, and she looks up at me. Honestly speaking, what's wrong with it?
"Nothing... It's just... I wanted to be alone... With Gramps, we always visit mom's grave today. But he acted like... he was so uninvolved and nonchalant" she wipes her eyes. "There was a large banner saying happy 18th Az!, there was this huge cake and drinks and food... and there were all these people who I don't even know and I couldn't handle it, I was so overwhelmed, I have never had a birthday party before, I didn't know how to react and I couldn't pretend like it was all OK when it wasn't, you know...I just..." She breaks again.
OK...
This has got to be the first time I'm seeing someone who is upset about having a surprise party being thrown for them. I'm trying to understand her, but it's still weird. However, I know better than to speak out about it, it'll be inconsiderate.
I never would've thought I'd see Az as miserably as I have this weekend. She can't even put her words together. She must really be hurt and I can't understand her because I'm not in her shoes.
"Remember you promised to stop crying?" I smile and wipe the tears streaming down her face. Her eyelids and lips are so swollen, much worse than they were on Saturday.
"You've been in those clothes since yesterday, they must be uncomfortable. I'll find you something you can change into." I smile and walk towards the closet. "There's nothing here. It should be in the laundry basket downstairs. Give me a minute." I say after looking for a while.
"OK." She whisper and puts her hands between her thighs. I step out of the room but then remember all the times when I turned away only to look back and find her gone. I walk back and open the door again, she's sitting on the bed still.
"Az... You'll be here when I get back, right?" I ask.
"I will." She smiles faintly and I smile back.
I head quietly downstairs and search the laundry basket for the pyjamas. I found the trousers but not the shirt. The lights suddenly come on and I look over my shoulder to find mom.
"Honey, what are you doing?" She asks and I stand up.
"Why are you awake mom?"
"I heard noises. Is something wrong?" She asks and rubs her eyes.
"Nothing, I... I came to... To get a clean pair of trousers" I stutter.
"Why? What's wrong with the one you have on?"
"I um... I ... I peed on it." I voice out and she raises a brow. "I mean I... I was sleepy and I went to take a piss and it... got... wet." I elaborate and she stares at me awkwardly before giggling.
"It happens to all of us." She says.
How weird is this?
"I just thought I'd check where the noises were coming from. I'm going back to sleep now."
"Ok mom." I say, grateful that she didn't take it too far.
"And Kace," she adds and I look at her. "Learn how to aim next time." She smiles and enters her room.
Great. Now my mom thinks I can't aim at a toilet pot. Just great.
I finally find the pajama shirt, so I grab a bottle of water and hurry back upstairs. True to her promise, she's still there.
"I haven't had time to iron this, it's a little wrinkled but... It's not that bad." I explain, handing her my pair of green pajamas. I would have been able to iron it if I wasn't away with her today.
"Don't be ridiculous Kacely" she chuckles. "That's the least of my concerns right now." She takes the wrinkled clothes from me and stands up. She holds the waistband of the trousers and brings it to her waist and it's way oversized.
"There's no way these can fit me, do you have socks I could put on instead?" She asks me and I nod before heading towards the door again. "Are they downstairs? If they are, don't bother. I can manage."
"I don't mind." I shrug.
"No... Kacely. I've pestered you enough." She exhales.
"Have mine then."
"Don't bother. I'm really OK. I promise." She says and I nod.
"Where can I clean up? I haven't taken a bath since yesterday night and I feel really sticky. But it's also too cold to take a bath."
"That's the bathroom. There's a spare face towel and toothbrushes in the small cupboard. I don't know if the water's still flowing." I tell her
She heads in and I wish she had changed her clothes here rather than in the bathroom.
What is my problem? I'm such an asshole. She's literally in the most terrible state but look at what I'm thinking about.
Rather than sitting in here daydreaming about her body, I head downstairs to get the socks she needs. After searching the laundry basket, I find two sides of two different pairs of socks.
I don't want mom to meet me here again, I won't have an excuse this time so I grab the socks and return to the room. I'm not sure she'll mind.
AZ
"I told you not to bother Kacely." I sigh when I notice the pair of socks in his hand, despite my asking him not to get them.
"It's alright, I was a little bored with you staying in the bathroom for so long so I just decided to go down." He explains with a smile.
"Ok" I say and smile when I notice the odd pairing. I look up at him and he shrugs, what's important is that my feet get warm. I sit down on the bed and put them on before wiggling my toes; one is longer than the other, one green and the other red. He lays down on the bed and I lay beside him, leaving a little bit of distance.
"Should I put the lights off or do you want them on?" He asks after a moment of silence.
"You can put them off." I say and he reaches for the switch just above the bed, putting them off followed by the television.
I have cried more today than I have in a very long time. It's been an overwhelming day and I'm so happy I'm here with Kacely. Not really happy, but... peaceful. He is so kind and sweet.
He's ridiculously nice. It's not good for him, not in a world like this. At first I thought he was just naive and stupid... But not anymore, he's a good person... a really good person. But I know better than to get too comfortable, he'll one day leave too, just like everybody else.
I lay in the darkness and silence, eyes wide open, starring at the ceiling, at the unkindled bulb. I don't want to fall asleep and dream of my mom again. Last night I saw her though; she was wearing white, long hair, beautiful smile. She looked just like me, just more beautiful and she had fairer skin. She was smiling at me, but I wasn't smiling back. I wanted to apologise to her, but my voice wasn't audible... I had no voice. I kept trying to talk but nothing, till I watched her walk away and fade away. I cried and cried and when I opened my eyes, there were tears streaming down my eyes.
I miss her. I miss her so much even though I have never met her.
Tears stream down the sides of my eyes again and I wipe them before pulling my nose.
"Az..."
Fuck.
"Are you still crying?" Kacely whispers before turning to face me. No point in lying, he can see my face. "Is it still about the party?"
"No..."
"Then what's wrong? You know you can tell me." He whispers and my insides liquefy. I don't like feeling this way, this vulnerable. "I can't sleep knowing you're crying."
I shouldn't have come here, I should've stayed home and cried on my pillow. I look at him and his eyes are fixed on me... waiting.
"I just... I thought about my mom again."
"What about her?" He coaxes.
"I had a dream about her... last night. We were out in a field and she was wearing white and smiling and... happy." I say.
"Isn't that a good thing?" He asks. "It means she's happy where she is."
"No it's not... You don't get it. If I didn't kill her, she'd be alive... And happy"
"Why do you keep saying that? Why do you keep insisting on the fact that you killed her?" He asks in an anger laced whisper, propping himself up with his elbow. I stare at the dark television screen for a bit before responding.
"It's what I was made to believe." I confess.
"By who?"
Too many prying questions.
"Was it your Grandfather?"
"No, Gramps would never do that to me. He still let it happen though." I reply.
"Who was it then?" He won't be letting this go anytime soon, if there's one thing I know about this boy, it's how persistent he is.
"My Grammy. She told me I killed my mother every single birthday from the when I could understand her till when she died." I open up and bite back the tears threatening to betray my eyes yet again.
"She said if I wasn't born, her daughter would still be alive. She said I killed her..." I explain and my voice trembles at the end from the pain in my heart.
"It's not true." He opposes.
"Yes it is... My mom would've been thirty seven years old. She would probably be married and have normal kids and a normal job and a normal life if it wasn't for me. My grandmother wouldn't have hated me so much and Gramps would have his daughter with him. She was right. I ruined everything." I cry and I feel his arms around me for the third time. I really shouldn't have come here.
KACELY
I really don't know what to do or say... This is messy, really messy. How could her grandmother tell her that? Drunk or not, that's straight up evil. She shouldn't have even had those types of ideas in her head before letting the liquor speak then out for her.
She's grown with the belief that she's the cause of her mom's death. And that isn't true.
"Az... Don't think like that, it's not the case. God knows why..."
"I really do not want to talk about God right now." She dismisses and tries to pull away but I don't let her.
"Ok... Let's not talk about him." I say and tighten my grip. I don't want to fight with her, not tonight.
I don't think I would be able to sleep tonight, not after what she told me. It's sad... really, really sad and it's made me uneasy.
"Kacely..." She calls after about ten minutes.
"Yes?"
"What about your dad?" She asks looking up at me.
I don't like going down this road either.
"What about him?" I ask.
"I don't know... Where is he? What's your story?" She demands. She's opened up to me tonight about something she clearly doesn't do a lot. It's only fair that I open up in return.
"Growing up, I came to the conclusion that my dad didn't want me. He never called, never visited, never bothered seeing me. I used to ask Aunty Myriam about where he was all the time but she would just ignore me, scold me or escape the questions all together." I explain and she listens quietly. "But just recently, my mom told me the reason why he never wanted to see me was because when they were still together, she cheated on him."
"Shit." She whispers.
"I know... I mean I get that he was pissed and all. But why did he cut us both off? Why didn't he want to see me again?" I ask even though I know she won't have an answer.
"You know I have never seen a photo of him, I don't even know what he looks like. My mom told me he used to visit us all the time till when I was one year old, that's when they broke up. I tried to force the memories, to see his face, but I couldn't. Aunty Myriam told me to drop it and I don't want to hurt mom by bringing it up."
"I think you should." She suggests and I shake my head no.
"She brought it up once and almost ended up crying. I don't want that."
"If you don't want to then don't, but for your own sake... I think you should, I would if I could." She adds and I don't say anything. I really don't like talking about this.
"You know I never met my dad either. My grandmother just said he was useless. She said he ruined my mom's life the day he got her pregnant and that I killed her the day I was born. He never gave a fuck about me, if he did he would've sought me out. He really is a piece of shit." She says.
"Things aren't always what they seem Azinwi. I thought my dad abandoned me but he left only after my mom cheated. It still doesn't make it ok... But it's different from what I thought." I say, trying to soften her opinion about her own father. "Plus if there is one thing I have learned in the past years, it's that both sides of the story should be heard before conclusions are drawn. You'd be surprised what you might find out."
"You may be right, but you may be wrong too. We'll never know." She says.
"You may meet him one day."
"I don't want to." I want to tell her it'll be a good thing but I keep my words to myself.
"You know sometimes I think it would've been better if my mom just aborted me... you know?" She breaks the tranquility.
What?
"Don't think like that." I rebuke her, detaching myself from her. "You should be grateful for the gift of life."
"My life isn't a gift, it's a punishment." She counters and I cringe. Who thinks things like this?
"No Azinwi, it's not. You have a lot to be grateful for." I contradict and she scoffs.
"Like what?" She asks leaning against the headboard.
"You're rich..."
"Rich? That doesn't count. I'm proof that you can have money and still be miserable as hell." She says rather sadly.
"You're pretty, you're incredibly intelligent..." I list, counting my fingers.
"Kacely..." she slurs "Granted I'm pretty easy on the eyes, but there are a lot of pretty girls in the world, it's nothing special. And I'm not that intelligent. Sure I'm great at math and I retain really well but the only reason I'm at the top of the class at RCC is because the kids here don't study as hard as they should.You see, your points aren't valid. There's nothing special about me." She exhales and looks up at the ceiling.
I want to tell her that God made all of us uniquely... specially, but I know she'll just argue with me about it. I have never come across someone who literally hates existing. I have never met anyone like this or even thought they are people like this.
"You know when I was a little girl I used to wonder what it would have been like to have a nice family; a dad who cared, who could teach me how to ride a bicycle, someone who could protect me... And a mom who was here, who I could cry on and complain about the kids I hate to, who could help me with my homework and stuff, a grandmother who didn't hate me maybe a little sister to play with, a big brother to give me advice... I wondered what it was like to have a normal life, to come home to a family after a normal day and have someone to call mommy or daddy. Being homeschooled didn't help either."
"You were homeschooled?" I ask. That's why she's always so isolated.
"Yes, but only from when I was eight till when I was thirteen. I did attend primary school here but when Grammy died, we moved to Australia and Gramps wouldn't let me go to a normal school. He said he could not risk losing the last thing he had. I used to have classes four days a week for about five to six hours everyday. I had a lot of free time too so I used to watch TV alot, the TV characters were my only friends. I would watch Disney channel a lot and I noticed that all those fictional characters had parents, but I didn't. From Phineas and Ferb to Timmy Turner... all of them. They all had families, but I didn't, Why?" She breaks again and I pull her closer to me.
"It was pure hell Kacely." She says and nuzzles into my chest.
"You have your Gramps," I interrupt, with the aim of easing the situation.
"I know, and I love him very much. But I guess it's ok to wonder, to want more. You know..." She breathes and I'm rendered tongueless again.
"It would have been better if I wasn't born all together. Mom would still be alive, Dad would..."
"No Az... Don't say that. God knows why he let's everything go a certain way."
"Bullshit." She cusses. "There's no justification for letting a little girl grow without parents, with a Grandmother who hates her and a Grandfather who was never around, I literally grew up with nannies only...."
I want to tell her that she is lucky she even had a nannies, that some people grew on the streets alone but that will only fuel her anger towards God. I know she'll say he is unjust for letting them stay on the streets.
"We may not know why but He does."
"And we're supposed to just go with it? To just flow with his decisions." She huffs."He's just a selfish being who does whatever the fuck he wants, lets whatever he wants to happen and expects us to just trust him and worship him no matter what."
I know God and I haven't been in the best terms lately but I feel horrible listening to someone misinterpret his actions. God himself is pure love itself, I strongly believe that. Every single thing he lets happen is for the greater good even if we do not see or understand it.
However, she seems to be so rooted into her beliefs that it seems pointless to try changing her mind, not tonight when she's like this. Her voice already sounds so adamant, so final.
"You wouldn't know, you have your mom and your little sister and your Aunty Maggie..."
"Myriam." I correct.
"What?"
"Myriam, not Maggie." I smile and silence follows again
"There's a reason why you are alive and they aren't. You have a lot of potential to explore, we all do. We all have a purpose."
"That speech belongs on YouTube Kacely." She chuckles, but not out of humor obviously.
"It's true, we all have talents..."
"I don't. I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't cook, I can't do shit right."
I swear I thought Az was one of the most confident people I ever met. She always sounds so sure, she always walks with poise but I guess I was mistaken. Very mistaken. She is the definition of a pessimist and she thinks so little of herself, she and Amy have that in common. Hers not physically, but insecurity all the same. I have always wanted to know why she was always so cold, so distant and uninvolved. Now I wish I never knew at all.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," I say in a low voice. I can't think of anything else to say.
"I am too." She finally looks at me. "I'm alright though. I've learned to deal with it. To accept what is. Not everyone is entitled to happiness in life." She says and my heart aches. "In the meantime I'll try to make my existence a little less miserable. Starting by getting some sleep." She smiles and yawns.
"Is there more you want to talk about? About your past maybe?" I inquire curiously. She looks at me for a while before opening her mouth to talk, but then closes it again and shakes her head no.
"Not tonight."
I watch sadly as she slides down onto the bed and hugs her pillow, within moments I hear soft breathing from her. I stay up for a while, starring at this beautiful girl beside me. She's so difficult to comprehend, she can be so loving at times but she can be so mean too. Sometimes I used to wondered which side was the true her, now I see it's the good side... maybe. She's a beautiful garden surrounded by an electrified fence to keep people away.
But I can't blame her, she has been through a great deal, through so much. She has grown in anger and bitterness and lack of self esteem. She blames and hates herself for things beyond her control and blames God too. It's wrong, I know it is but what can I do? I can't force her to listen to me, she won't even talk about it.
But there's more, I feel it, yet I know she won't tell me. She can though, she opened up so much to me today and if she did now, she can again. I can't wipe away the pain, but I can be here for her. I can show her that life is beautiful. I can be here for her and take care of her till she learns to love herself, till she learns to love life and to see that life is worth living. That's what I'll do.
I slide closer to her and wrap my hand round her waist. She scoots closer and lays her hand on my chest, her lips part slightly and she takes a deep breath. I kiss her forehead and close my eyes till I fall asleep too.
My alarm rings at 5:30am and when I look around, Az isn't there. My pyjama shirt and the socks I gave her have been laid on the bed.
She left, again.
Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I really took my time to write this one because I wanted to paint the situation perfectly.
Believe it or not, there are people who actually think the way Az does. Not atheist, people who know God exists but do not think his actions are just. Know that not everyone was raised in a Christian home like most of us were. Not everyone went to Sunday school and was taught about Noah and Moses and Paul's teachings or even about Jesus Christ. Some people didn't know about him and when they did, it didn't make sense to them so they tend to misinterpret things.
I have someone in my life who I really care about who is like that and there was even a time when I felt like that too. God is so so mysterious and I myself don't get Him, it gets frustrating sometimes (check out my poem - Hey Big Guy to understand how frustrated I was at that time 😅). But who understands him actually? His might is just too vast to be comprehended by our meek human minds.
We should just love Him as He loves us and do what He wants, because it is the best. That way, we can ask Him face to face when we see Him one day.
I have received all sorts of mixed reactions concerning the last two chapters. Some people understand Azinwi and sympathise, others think she's just being bratty, others understand her but think she's being ungrateful and taking it overboard.
We are all entitled to our opinions and I will always respect that. But know that eventhough this story is fictional, it might coincide with someone's story somewhere. Most of us won't understand the shoes she's in because we haven't been in them ourselves, but know that it isn't easy... at all. I read a lot(articles and stuff... Not novels😅) and watch a lot of movies and stuff and I've come across cases like this where people go through worse shit and end up being more bitter than this as a way to protect themselves from getting hurt more. It's not right, but it's understandable.
To help someone, you have to understand them(not support them necessarily), reach out to them and then try to help them.
I heard this one time, or something like this but I can't remember where from... "To bring someone to the light, you have to understand the darkness." That's what love is, and God is love.✊🏾❤️
Nonetheless, I'll always say we should be open to new beginnings and chances, that's how we see the beauty of life.🙂 So Az too needs to be open to a new beginning. While you do that, remember you are not personally responsible for someone else's happiness. The only grey area in this is you being responsible for the happiness of children you brought into the world till they are able to stand on their own.