Miracle
1329 Words
Miracle POV
Things were never easy in my life. Growing up, my mother feared me and shuffled me between family. It wasn't that she didn't love me; I knew she did. She just couldn't deal with all the trouble I caused her.
It wasn't like I did it on purpose. Things just happened. Like that time when Bobby Lutes stood me up, and then there was the fire. I somehow started it but didn't remember how. Mom had to move us, and it was time to start a new school. I'd manage to make a few friends then something else would happen.
She was always thankful No one got hurt, but I knew she feared one day someone would.
I was an adult now and out on my own. Currently, however, I am between jobs. My last job didn't turn out so well after I blew up the copy machine.
The damn thing blew up on its own, I had sworn, but deep down, I knew somehow it was me.
I had put my application into a few places and walked down Bridge Street to Thompkins. There was a lovely cafe there that I liked to eat at when I was in the area. They were cheap and good.
I wasn't much for cooking, so cheap and good was precisely what I needed.
I opened the door to the diner and walked in, Waving at Carla, the waitress. I took a seat and took out my laptop. I hated lugging it around, but I had no Internet at home. After losing my job, I had to cut off my Internet and cable. My cell phone was still on, but not for long. I hoped one of the jobs would call me back before that got cut off too. Thankfully my rent's paid until the first, which was still a few weeks away.
I logged into my f******k, remembering my mother said she posted some new pictures she wanted me to see. My mother and her boyfriend, John, just bought a new home. I promised to see it soon but wanted to make sure I had a job first. My mother is proud that I seemed to be doing so well and put all the trouble during my teenage and childhood years behind her. She was happy now, and I'm so glad for her.
"Your usual?" Carla asked as she sat down an ice-cold coca-cola in front of me.
"Nope, today I'd like grilled cheese and soup. Wait about thirty minutes after I get my soup for the grilled cheese," I told her.
"Coming right up," Carla smiled.
Carla was cool. Many nights I'd come in and sit a few hours on my laptop, and she didn't mind. She would sometimes sit down with me. She reminded me of my mother, sometimes. No matter how much trouble I got into, mom always managed to get us out of it and whisk me back out of whatever family either I was living with or both of us. Carla was good with figuring out when something was on my mind.
My mother was a Nurse and made good money, and supported us well. After the first few moves, she started a fund. She would call it the "changes" fund when I was a child. As I got older, she became more tired and weary, and she blamed me. I think she stopped putting money into the fund as years went by.
My cheddar broccoli soup arrived, and I ate it as I scrolled through pictures. One, in particular, caught my eye. She tagged me in it. It was titled Miracle's room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I saw the walls. The wall has a mural with the sunset above the ocean. I always loved the s ocean. I clicked like on the picture and typed in, Can't wait to visit.
With that done, I began checking my emails—nothing fun to see there. My email is usually nothing but junk, but since I applied at a few jobs online, I had to sort through it all.
Before I knew it, my grilled cheese had arrived with two pickles on the side and a side of fries.
"Lonny said to enjoy the fries," she winked.
Lonny was the cook, and he always threw in something a little extra like French fries. He knew I loved his ranch-flavored fries.
"Tell Lonny I said thanks, "I told her. She grabbed my empty coke glass and returned with a fresh.
I returned to deleting emails.
Before I noticed, it was already eight at night. I had been here for almost three hours. Carla had maintained my drink for me the whole time.
"Sorry, I didn't realize how late it was," I told her.
"Nonsense child. It's not like a line's out the door," she waved her hands around the empty room.
Dinner rush had come and gone. I smiled at her as she walked away.
"Your a hard woman to find," I heard.
Looking up, I saw the man I had met a few nights back here. Kyle, I believed he said, is his name, or is it, Kevin? He sat down across from me and took off his leather jacket.
"Help yourself, why don't you," I snarled.
I mean, I barely knew the guy. I bumped into him on my way out one night. He saved my laptop bag from hitting the ground when he bumped into me. He has reflexes, but that isn't all he has.
He's good looking in a bad boy sort of way. He tilted his head sideways and smiled at me. Oh, he was trying to use that smile on me: that or his mesmerizing green eyes. I wondered if they were contacts even. The color was so unnatural, like the color of emeralds.
"Are those your natural eyes?"I blurted out.
"Yes, do you like them?" He teased.
"I've never seen eyes that color," I said. Of course, I freaking liked them; they are gorgeous.
"I have. Look, I really need to talk to you, flirting aside and all," he said, making me blush.
"Who's flirting. You're the one stalking me," I said.
"Look, this is going to sound weird, but I'm here to help you," he is serious.
"Help me?" I asked him, curious.
"Look, I knew your father years ago," he straightened back up in the booth and looked around. Carla was busy rolling silverware on the other side of the diner. No one else was here except for Lonny, no doubt listening to Pandora in the kitchen.
"What we're you like three when my father died?" I rolled my eyes and began packing my laptop and stuff up.
I thought this guy was cute, but now he's just weird. My father died when I was only two. Kyle or Kevin, whoever he was, looked to be just a few years older than me. So maybe twenty or so.
"Your father's not dead," he said.
"Look, You need to go before I call the.."
"Things happen to you unexplained when your emotionally charged you likely can read minds and..." he began cutting me off.
"How did you know that?" I bent over, whispering at him.
"Because I know your father, and he sent me to you,"
"Look, Kevin, Kyle, whoever you are," I said.
"Kyle," he said.
"Fine, Kyle. If my father's alive, then why does my mother have his Death certificate?"
Part of me felt like he was telling the truth. He knew too much about me. But my father couldn't have just abandoned us all these years, could he?
"I don't know. Perhaps he's better equipped to explain that," he told me.
"What's wrong with me? Why do I start fires and..."
"You inherited that from your father," he placed his cold hand on mine, and I pulled away.
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"Your father is a demon," Kyle said.
- Writer
