ELEVEN | LAKAD

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M A R Y S S A c a r l t o n

When I was ten, I used to be a kid with horrible braces, untameable curls and a chubby figure. My classmates would taunt me, call me names, hit me with their hurtful words and I would always come home crying. Mom and Dad would reprimand me for being so weak, telling me they're just words and man up. After that they'd go back to whatever they were doing, muttering something about me delaying their work

Everything went downhill when I was ten. One moment--that's all it takes and bam! everything wasn't the same as before. Our family was falling apart right before my eyes.

So I do not understand why am I dreaming of my ten-year-old self.

I was standing in the middle of a vast field (or what I assumed as the middle) full of dandelions, its petals floating about. The warm sun was kissing my pale complexion, and the white dress I wore flutters everytime the wind blows. I was happy--I can feel happiness bubbling inside--and it brought uncontrollable giggles from me. 

I was dancing, skipping, and still giggling on the field, careless of everything. Free of everything. I feel graceful, every skip I took feels like gliding. That's when I tripped.

And the vast field of paradise I once was disappeared, I just keep tumbling down like Alice towards Wonderland. Sharp things were scraping my knees, my arms, even my face. My dress wasn't white anymore. 

The only difference was, I didn't land on Wonderland.

I didn't land on a cave where there are paths for me to take, no potion nor cake to make me smaller or bigger, there was no talking rabbit to guide me through. I just landed on an emptiness that seem to stretch forever. Dusting my now-brown dress, I started walking. The trek to nowhere was frightening, especially everytime I tried to grope for something--anything--there was nothing. Walking then turned into a jog, and into a sprint. Me being me, I tripped (again!)over-what else? Nothing.

Then out of the blue, someone was helping my dirty ten-year-old self; dusting me, even. I was greeted with a familiar cognac-brown eyes when I looked up. His six feet built felt out of place in this abyss, like he didn't belong here. "Shh, Maryssa. It's okay, I'm here. You won't hurt anymore." 

Tears began to fall when I heard those words and the next thing I knew, I was full-on sobbing as he gathered me in his arms and stroked the jungle I call my hair.

He pressed a lingering kiss on my hair, and whispered something that was too good to be true.

"I'll always be here now, because I care."

At those words, the black abyss was gone. 

We were back at the middle of the dandelion-filled paradise.

[ ~ ]

I woke with a start, my back covered in cold sweat. The dream felt so real, like he really meant every word he said. After calming down, I adjusted myself and leaned on the headboard and before I knew it, silent sobs racked through my body.

I am one of those people who cannot handle emotions well, especially when it's becoming too much. But that's not the point. The past month-- specifically, since Lucca talked to me, I've been in a rollercoaster of emotions and I'm surprised it took me this long to break down. The events a few hours ago suddenly filled my memories, and I clenched my eyes shut in hopes of it disappearing. Didn't work.

I am not used to someone caring for me, you see. My parents stopped caring when I was ten, they buried themselves in their work and keep telling us they're doing this for us. An utter bull. While other people turn to alcohol or drugs as a coping mechanism, my parents turned to their jobs. Why?

Because Elliot, my older brother, ran away seven years ago. He was my parent's perfect little son, you see. Pretty face, athletic with good grades, the whole cliché. He was their pride, but he ran away. Elliot just left a note stating he couldn't do it anymore, that he's sorry, that it might be possible he's not coming back.

I was only ten that time, so I didn't understand the entire situation. All I knew was Elliot wasn't there to teach me anything he knows anymore, he wasn't there to wipe my tears and defend me from my bullies. He wasn't going to be with us anymore.

Ever since then, I watched my parents transform day by day. It started with yelling, they were blaming each other about my brother's departure. Then came the silence, and at last they reached a mutual (and silent) agreement that they'd just . . . bury themselves at work, so to avoid confrontations and such. 

Ever since then, they almost forgot they have two daughters. Well, except when we've done something wrong. Cue the lecture and yelling. Even when we do something good, they'd gave us a look and go back working.

Ever since then, I've built my own world. Books became my refuge, my room became the fortress. I think that may have been the time when I became numb. Stopped acknowledging any emotions. Became angry with the world. Stopped caring about the world.

I don't know if this story makes sense, because it did to me. I wasn't ready with the onslaught of emotions Lucca has brought back--I've been closed off for so long I've forgotten how to act on those feelings. 

I couldn't help but blame Lucca for this- it's irrational, I know, but there are situations when we feel like we should blame someone--anyone--just because everything became too much. Well, this is one of those situations, for me. One stupid word-- and the fortress I've built was cracking. 

But it shouldn't. Shouldn't have cracked just because some guy decided to do random acts of kindness and suddenly declares he cared for me. My parents couldn't do it, so why would he?

Once again, I adjusted myself until I was lying on my side and closed my eyes. With a firm resolve, I drifted to sleep.

I won't let Lucca get to me.

*****

a/n: sorry for the shit chap. dont lie, I feel it too.