"Julain," Mom's voice drifts from the kitchen into the lounge room. "Can you help your sister carry the remainder of the boxes upstairs?"
I was currently sprawled on the couch, my head back and eyes closed. My fingers itched with the drive to paint; even as my muscles ached from exhaustion. I opened my eyes slowly. "Sure!" I call back in the hopes that she hears me. On queue, as always, Raina walks into the room. She holds onto two boxes which she constantly adjusts every few minutes with her knee. Utterly amused by my younger sister's struggle, I just watch for a few minutes.
Brown eyes and brunette hair poked out from behind the boxes. "Well come on then," she said. "These boxes can't carry themselves."
I shake my head before lifting myself off the couch to assist. I take the box on top from her hands and she willingly gives it up, practically pushing it towards me. We move from the lounge room and past the kitchen where mom could be seen sorting the pots into the pantry. Upon noticing me, she stops mid-task. Her eyes follow my every movement as we make it up the stairs before she continues what she was doing. The whole time I pretend like I haven't noticed. While the simplest gesture makes my skin shiver from the uncomfortableness.
The second floor of the house mainly consists of bedrooms and two bathrooms. While mine and Raina's bedrooms were opposite of the stairs, Mom's was further down the hall. Although they'd never tell me, it was clear to me that this reason influenced the decision when choosing a home.
"Just place it on my bed," she instructs, dropping her own when we enter her room. I follow her lead, but not before I catch a glimpse of what is inside from the open flap. "These are all books, aren't they?"
"No," she says all too quickly.
I made it a mission to stare at her. First comes the shuffling of her foot against the carpet, then the eye avoiding, and finally, she caves.
"Okay." A sheepish smile forms on her lips. "Maybe they are. But, more importantly, has anyone told you how intense your stare is? What would have lasted days of a lie with my friends only took two minutes with you."
"Or," I drawled. "Maybe your just not a good liar."
"Or," she follows suit, "maybe your just too observant."
I go to open my mouth with a response, but am stopped short when Mom's voice calls on me again. "Julian, when you're finished up there, I need you back down here." While I do understand her reasons, a deeper part of me wants to just seclude myself in my room for the rest of the day. I make my way out of the room but halt at the door when I hear Raina speak.
"Just be patient with her." Her words are soft, mirroring the smile on her face that is just for me. "You know why she's doing this."
I turn back around and give her a tight smile. Still, its something better than yesterday. "I know," I reply. " And I'm grateful."
******
Tonight was proving difficult to sleep. Closing my eyes and wishing for the darkness to consume me wasn't doing anything. Was it the new room? Or was it what would await me when I slept. Of what awful memories maysurface. I looked at my clock which glowed with the faint light from a lit candle nearby. It read 10:30 pm and I knew to look to the door where she would be standing. She was looking at me from outside my door, a pillow snuggled to her chest while wearing blue snoopy pyjamas. In silent permission, I raised my blanket up so that there was room for her to creep in.
Raina's steps were groggy as she slowly made it to my bed. Slipping inside, she made herself comfortable before I let the blanket fall around us. "I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep," she whispered while staring up at the ceiling.
"Yeah," I adjust so I'm looking up at the ceiling as well. "Today more than others."
She's silent for a beat before her head shifts in my direction. I don't need to see her face in the dark to know she's intensely studying mine, the secret question on the tips of her lips. Instead, she settles for, "Well, I'm here now, brother. You can sleep comfortably. I'll watch over you." Her words have become a mantra since the beginning she visited my room in the middle of the night a month ago. And just like every time... they wrapped me up in comfort and ease. I really believed now that I'd be able to sleep with her next to me.
We shuffle once more until her back is against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy. Before I know it, I'm fast asleep.
****
I flick my eyes open at the creak of my bedroom door. My mother emerges from behind my door and creeps towards my dresser table. The room is dark, and so she doesn't notice that I am staring at her from my bed.
Finding the draw where she knows I store my pills, she grabs the container, unscrews the cap and checks inside. A heavy breath escapes her lips as her chest rises and falls. I notice her head swing in my direction just in time to quickly shut my eyes. The floor creaks signalling her movement. I feel her small hand brush my fringe from my face before she whispers, "Te Amo, my boy."
I wait till she rises from kneeling beside my bed. I wait until she places the pills back into the draw and closes it. I wait. Until the door shuts behind her and my body begins to quiver as I let out muffled sobs from the hand covering my mouth.
****
We pull up to the parking lot and I took the chance to peak out the window and get a glimpse of the school I'd only heard of through my mom. Being stuck in the hospital for two weeks, my mom had already decided the school before I was discharged. The institute was coloured in brown bricks for walls and had a medium-sized parking space. My eyes scanned for any security personal standing near the entrances to not find a trace.
The whole place screamed middle-class compared to Daymont. While I knew it would take me a while to get used to, I was also bringing up to the idea that this would be the perfect place to stay low until I could graduate. People now scared me.
"So I'm only coming with you to greet the principle and it's all on you tomorrow." We leave the car and make it towards the administration department. "This will be a great place to make some new friends and finish the rest of your studies."
I nod absentmindedly to distracted by looking around. The inside was just as small as I thought from the outside. There were row and rows of doors squished together in the hallways that filled up classrooms. I could already imagine the struggle that would take place in order to make it to the lockers. Everything was plain, either coated in a dark green or a mud brown. Having a moment to myself, I hadn't noticed that mom was no longer beside me.
I turned my head to find her standing a few feet behind me with crossed arms. It seemed she had been standing there for a good minute and not until I had noticed did she slowly make her way back to my side. When she approaches me again, she grabs holds of my shoulder, adjusts me so I'm face to face with her. Mom always needed to make eye contact whenever she said something serious. 'It's how my grandmother raised me and it's how I'll raise you', she would tell us.
"You let me know if this is too much for you." Her voice takes on a softness as she adds, "I want this to work for the both of us." A sudden feeling of guilt takes over me at the realization that she was more nervous then she made out to be. She practically left everything behind for me.
"Yeah," I nod. "I'm sorry. Me too."
She smiles in response before dropping her hand from my shoulders."Hi principle, Bowens. No Quinton Kingsley still hasn't arrived. Yes, I did make sure to tell him about today. And very thoroughly at that." Mom lets the receptionist know that we have a meeting after her phone call and we take a seat in the lobby as instructed. She continues to answer phone calls in the background, her voice blending in with the soft conversations coming from the teacher's that pass and enter into another room. Most of them shift their gazes in my direction upon realising there is potentially a new student.
My skin crawls at every new set of eyes on me and slowly it feels as if a hot rock is being pressed into my backside. I suddenly can't sit still and my mind flashes to the image of headphones and the drawing pad sitting on my desk in my room.
"Mom." I lean into her on the chair beside me. "I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be back later."
"We're nearly inside-" She stops mid-sentence after noticing what the issue is. "Okay," she taps a hand on my lap. "Take your time," she reassures me. "I can always talk to him myself."
I nod and waste no time asking directions for the toilet before I'm speed walking out of there. Only when I'm fully out of the room and away from prying eyes do I feel the tension exit my body. The breath I'd been holding finally slips out of my lips.
****
Okay. I was definitely lost. The instructions were clear enough. And yet, still no toilet in sight. I repressed the urge to groan. I really needed that quiet and that was the only best place that offered it to me at the moment. Good news is that I found the location of the lockers. Bad news. I had passed them three times already.
As I was determining which way to turn next, I heard the sound of distant footsteps mixed with the occasional laughter coming in my direction. Maybe I'd be able to ask one of them for the way.
"So how was it?"
"What do you mean?" One feigned ignorance.
"Come on," the other replied. " It's not cool to hide details, Malcolm."
At the mention of that name, my body locked together, frozen solid, as if I'd been struck by icy water. The scar, now fully healed on my wrist, burned red. My ears honed in on their footsteps, the sound suddenly shattering my eardrums. I needed to get away. Qucikly. My head rotated around the room for any source of an immediate escape. The only room in site other than the classrooms read Cleaning Supplies.
The footsteps were getting faster. Dashing for the room, I tried the handle and the door opened straight away. Rushing into the room, I closed the door quickly, but not enough for the noise to draw them to the area of the sound. My heart leapt against my ribcage and I remembered to breathe when I was losing breath. It took me a good minute to revert back to normal. it was then that I chose to turn away from the door. My gaze falls on two males mere metres away from me. A blonde male clutches the smaller one's hair as they appear to be focused on their make-out session. I feel my flames heat at the surprise.
I appear to stare at the scene for a little too long because eventually, the blonde becomes aware of my presence. He breaks the kiss and the smaller male protests and attempts to initiate another kiss. He swerves his face out of his range. Then he shakes his head and jerks a finger in my direction. The male shifts his head until they are both staring at me. I lock eyes with the blonde. Mine filled with surprise and his of genuine curiosity. The tension is real amongst the silence and before anyone can speak, the closet door opens once again.
A middle-aged man stands at the door with a broom in his hand. He halts when his eyes roam the room and realize it isn't empty. His gaze falls on the blonde in the room and his guarded expression fades. "Well, isn't this a party?"
"Hello to you too, Charlie." They both send each other a smile across the room. My emotions are rising like a rollercoaster, first feeling shocked on the scene I walked in, to now being very confused about the interaction taking place.
"If you want to enjoy yourself, haven't I told you to spare the closet. This is supposed to be my territory."
The blonde nods in silent acknowledgement before his gaze falls to the shorter boy who has a hand on his chest up against a cupboard. The boy meets it with a pout, his annoyance clear at being disturbed. "As you can see" -he ruffles the boy's hair- "I was cornered against my will and was short for time."
Charlie shakes his head without losing his smile. " No comment on that. Anyhow, I'm in need of this room and the supplies to do my job. So whether you're done or not, I'm kindly kicking you out now."
"Of course." He gives him a salute. "No problem at all." He taps the shoulder of the other boy and they break up the intimacy. At that moment, the janitor finally seems to notice me. Then they are all looking at me again and I feel like disappearing into the nearest darkness. Out of sight. Out of probing eyes.
"Who's this?" He points his thumb in my direction. I don't even allow the blonde to reply before I'm rushing to the door and attempting to scoot past him. When that doesn't work, I proceed to mumble, "excuse me, please."
"Uhh... sure." He scoots over with his broom and bucket to allow me enough room to scurry past.
"Thanks," I reply in a hushed voice. My manners still getting the best of me even in this situation. I don't exhale until I'm down the corridor and I'm sure I haven't been followed. What the hell was that? I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened. It was giving me a painful headache that I purged my thoughts with the shake of my head.
"Julian." The soft voice of my mother calls as she approaches. "There you are," she says. "I've been looking for you and was worried that something may have happened."
"I'm fine," I tell her. "Just got lost on my way." Because there's no way I'm telling her what I just walked in on. It would only concern her. Plus, having her be concerned about the school was not something I wanted to add to her list of worries this past month. That didn't mean I wasn'tvery concerned. It was beginning to feel like another Daymont High. I really need to draw-
"Okay, that's good to hear." I notice the sheet of paper in her hand and she follows my line of sight. She offers the paper to me. I take it from her and open it to discover a map of the school. It had all the basics of a map, but there was a little extra handwriting added to it. "The assistant did it. After that Quinton, whoever, didn't show. I just suggested the alternative, that we could explore the school ourselves with the guidance of a map."
I nod in understanding. Mom then offers her hand for me to grab. I take it willingly, feeling nothing but warmth. We share identical smiles. "Shall we?" she asks, with a hint of excitement. Something I haven't seen from her for a while.
"Mmm."
A grown man walking around school holding his mom's hand could be seen as embarrassing for some. But not for me. I would hold her hand a hundred times If it meant I could feel comfort from it to battle the emptiness and sorrow I fought with most days.
Yes. A Mom's hand truly was the best. 208Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9J9j83Ba2H
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