Roses & Bullets

XXIV. Guilt

ERIK

I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling disoriented. Where the f**k am I? I take a look around, and I realize that I am in a hostel.

That is right. I've decided to come to Mooresville, Alabama, and I've been living with the Wilson family in their hostel for a couple of days now. I am not in Pakistan.

My whole body is covered with sweat, and I suddenly remember why: I just had a dream about Alan and the other soldiers. Out of all the soldiers I had worked with, I was closest to Alan. So, maybe that is the reason why he visited my dreams.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. Alan showed me a picture of his brother, saying that they were all each other had. He was so determined to go home to his sick little brother, but unfortunately, he was killed in action.

I wonder what happened to his brother after learning of Alan's passing. He must have waited long for his brother's return. I can only hope that some extended family member had adopted or taken care of him.

After that dream about Alan, I had another dream which is not new to me. I've been having that same nightmare since I came back from my captivity. The night my fellow soldiers were slaughtered, and I was taken.

I massage my temples to relieve my aching head. I close my eyes and try to erase the bloody images from my mind, but I just can't. I thought that coming here would at least help lessen the nightmares, but I guess I was wrong.

It was just a matter of time. It's been a while since I've had a nightmare. The last one was when I was still in my apartment in Los Angeles. After going to therapy with Dr. Marshall, I have decided to come here.

I miss my apartment sometimes. I got that after returning home from Pakistan because I didn't want to live with my parents. But since they were so worried about my condition, they begged me to stay with them so they could look after me.

I gave them what they wanted and lived with them, although I would still go home to my own place. But that didn't do any of us good. I only made things worse for them by letting them see my episodes.

After the fiasco at the shrink's office, I told my father first that I was going away to find myself before finally telling my mother.

That's the purpose of my moving here. I wanted to find self-healing, but instead, I found Claire. f*****g s**t!

The events from last night come flooding back to my mind, and I groan in disbelief. I was such an asshole! I let her come into my room and took advantage of her, only to be scared shitless and push her away again.

Why did I even let it come to that in the first place? The moment I saw her standing at my door, I knew that I would not be able to control myself. And that was exactly what happened.

We kissed and touched each other, but in the middle of all that intimacy, this fear inside me that I've been trying to hide resurfaced, and I was reminded why I didn't deserve her. I will ruin her. I've been trying to push away the people who are close to me because I didn't want them to feel my pain, but I've failed in that with Claire.

I've let her too close, and she got burned. I want to go to her room right now and apologize, but I know that it is too late. I should have done that earlier.

I rise from bed without checking what time it is. When I stand by the window, I see that it is still dark, and the sky is filled with stars. I wonder how long it is until the sun comes up.

I don't think I can still go back to sleep, not after that terrible nightmare. Also, I can't erase Claire's pained expression from my mind now, so I think I'll just stay awake until daybreak.

I sit by the window and open the curtains thoroughly to let the cool breeze in. It feels good, but at the same time, it sends shivers down my spine. After cooling off, I feel a little relaxed.

I notice that my phone is on the floor, so I grab it before going back to my seat. I must have dropped it while I was kissing Claire. Thankfully, it didn't crack.

I put it on the table, and then I think of ways of how to apologize to Claire. Should I even talk to her? Maybe she will just slap me hard.

Well, I deserve it, really. One slap is not even enough. If possible, I will let her punch me to her heart's content.

I'm so sorry, Claire. I bury my face in my hands, desperate to come up with a solution on how I'm going to fix this. I don't know how long I've stayed in that position, but when I hear the breakfast bell, I jump out of my seat and head to the shower.

Once I'm clean, I hurriedly put on my clothes, a navy blue shirt, denim, and of course, sneakers. I race downstairs, knowing that Claire will be the first one in the kitchen, but I'm disappointed to see that she is not there. At the table sits Mr. Wilson while Corey cooks.

"Good morning, Erik," Corey greets me. Wow, that's a first. He usually stays quiet all throughout our meals, so I am a little surprised.

"Good morning, Corey," I greet him back. "Where is your sister?"

"She is not feeling well, Erik," Mr. Wilson answers for his son. "She is feverish, and I don't think she will be joining us for the rest of the day."

"Feverish? Why?" I sound a little too concerned, but I don't care. What the hell happened?

"She has a cold," Corey tells me as he transfers the scrambled eggs on a plate. "Don't worry about her. She'll be fine."

I sit in my regular place, and I'm not used to seeing that the chair beside me is vacant. How did Claire get sick? She was fine last night when we were together.

"Did she already take her medicine?" I ask her father, but before he can answer, the door opens, and Mikey Bennet comes in.

Are you shitting me right now? Mikey is holding a small casserole, and I assume it is for Claire. Is he Claire's superhero or what?

"Good morning, Mr. Wilson," he greets Claire's father. "My mother made some soup here for Claire. I also have her medicine."

"Thank you so much, Mikey," answers Mr. Wilson as he struggles a little to stand up. "You didn't have to."

"Oh, come on, Mr. Wilson. You know I will always be here to Claire's rescue," he says, grinning, before giving me a meaningful look. I don't think Claire's father noticed.

"Very well. Corey, will you take Mikey to your sister's room?" Mr. Wilson orders his son, but Corey only scowls.

"Dad, Mikey knows every inch of this house. He can go to Claire's room on his own." Corey finishes putting the eggs, bacon, and toasts on the table before sitting down.

"Corey-"

"It's okay, Mr. Wilson," Mikey tells him. "I got this."

"All right. After that, you can join us for breakfast."

"Thank you." Mikey enters Claire's room and closes the door immediately.

"It's going to be okay, Erik," Mr. Wilson tells me when he notices that I'm craning my neck to see inside Claire's room.

"What's that, sir?" I barely understand what he said.

"Mikey will just feed her and get Claire to take her medicine. Nothing more," he smiles at me reassuringly.

"You lost me, sir," I chuckle nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just eat," he says as he puts butter on his toast. "You don't want to be late for work."

I just smile at him. Does he know already about us? No, it can't be.

I try not to put too much thought into what he said, and instead, focus on my meal. It's good, but it feels different knowing that it wasn't Claire who prepared it. I slowly chew the eggs, trying to taste them, but I can't seem to appreciate the taste.

"Sorry, Erik," Corey speaks, "it's the only food I know how to cook. I know it's not as good as my sister's.

"Oh, no," I say, embarrassed that he saw my blank expression while eating. "It's really good, Corey. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiles, and for a moment, I see Claire in him.

The three of us eat in silence, and Mikey is still in Claire's room. I quickly finish my breakfast and excuse myself from the table. I tell them that I have to get to work early, but the real thing is I don't want to wait for Mikey to come out and join the table.

Since it's still a little early, I take my time and walk slowly. When I reach the library, like always, Mrs. Frye is already busy filing and signing up papers. I greet her, and of course, she ignores me, and then I take the trolley of books and bring it to the bookshelf at the back.

I'm really not in the mood today, but I can't stay at the hostel either, so I don't have a choice but to be here. Aside from that, I've only been working here for a few days, and I don't want to upset Mrs. Frye by calling in sick. Even though I'm not the one who is sick.

I am so worried about Claire that it is all I can do not to rush back home. Time is passing slowly that I can literally hear the ticking of the clock. I just want to be done with this already!

I try to occupy myself with work: putting back some books here, cleaning the shelves there, and rearranging the chairs and tables. No matter what I do, Claire won't leave my mind.

A few hours have passed, and some people enter the library. The students talk directly to the librarian, while the adults go straight to the bookshelves and pick the books they want. I'm arranging a stack of books in alphabetical order when someone talks to me.

"Excuse me, can you help me with this?"

When I turn around, it's the boy who ran me over the other day. He's wearing a white shirt, jersey shorts, long socks, and a pair of slippers. He smiles when he recognizes me.

"Oh, hello, sir." He seems a little shy to talk. "It's you again."

"You don't have to call me 'sir,'" I tell him. "It's Erik."

"I'm Andrew," he says, and we shake hands. "How's your hand?" He asks as soon as he sees my healing wound.

"Almost back to normal," I reply.

"I'm really sorry about that," he frowns.

"Hey, you already apologized, right?" I ask him, trying to make him feel better. "One apology is enough."

He doesn't reply. He only smiles sheepishly and pretends to look at the books.

"Do you live around here?" I ask when I realize that he is done talking.

"Yes. I live with my parents and brother just a couple of blocks from here." He purses his lips before adding, "How about you?"

"I'm staying at the Hostel Corazon. I'm actually from Los Angeles, and I'm only here on vacation."

"Wow!" he exclaims. "Los Angeles, huh? I've always wanted to go there."

"Then, why don't you?" I ask as I continue with my work.

"No time," he simply says. "Do you work here?"

"Yes, I do."

"If you're working here, then you're planning on staying for a long time." I look at Andrew, and his eyes are wide with curiosity.

"I'm not yet sure." I haven't thought about that yet.

"What brings you here?" he continues to question me. "You're not running away from something, are you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"It's always like that in the movies."

I have to stifle my laughter, but I fail. Andrew joins me, and of course, Mrs. Frye tells us to shut it.

"You're watching way too many movies, kid." This kid really is funny.

"But it only makes sense, right?"

"I guess it does," I answer, "Anyway, you said you needed my help with something?"

"Yeah, I almost forgot. Can you tell me where to find this book?" Andrew hands me a slip of paper with the title of the book he needs. "Oh, you can find this on bookshelf number twelve."

"Thank you," he says.

"No problem."

"By the way, is it okay if I drop by from time to time. Not always, I promise. It's just that..." he hesitates before speaking again, "it's a little boring at home."

"Sure," I say. "As long as we don't piss off the librarian."

He smiles again, making him look younger. "Deal."

Andrew leaves, and I spend the rest of my shift arranging more bookshelves. When it's finally time to go home, I gather up the courage to talk to Mrs. Frye.

"Mrs. Frye," I say, clearing my throat, "what food is good for a sick person?"

"Who is sick?" she asks grumpily.

"Claire. She has colds, and I was wondering what food I can buy to take home to her."

"There's a place around the corner that sells good chicken soup. I suggest you go there." For the first time since I started working here, Mrs. Frye is not being nasty to me.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Also, give her lots of fruits," she adds.

"I will. Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Frye."

She only nods at me, and I immediately leave to buy the chicken soup and some fruit from the local market. On my way home, I replay in my mind what I could possibly say to Claire. Sadly, every scenario that I've imagined is as bad as the one before it.

When I reach the hostel, my heart drops when I see Mikey in the kitchen, feeding Claire. As I enter, I realize that Mr. Wilson is also there, and they all look at what I'm carrying.

"That smells wonderful, Erik," remarks Mr. Wilson. "What is that?"

"It's chicken soup for Claire," I say without removing my eyes from her. She doesn't want to look at me, though.

"How thoughtful of you," says Mr. Wilson. "Did you hear that, Claire?"

"Yes, daddy. But I'm already full. I've had enough of Mrs. Bennet's soup."

"That's nice, Erik," Mikey butts in. "You can just set down the food here," he says, tapping the table.

Mr. Wilson watches me as I watch Claire. At this point, I don't care if he finds out about his daughter and me. But Claire still pays me no attention.

I set everything I've bought on the table. Mikey stands to wash the plates, and Claire tries to stand too, but she stumbles. Thanks to my fast reflexes, I catch her just in time.

"You should be resting," I say to her tenderly, and I can feel Mikey and Mr. Wilson's gaze on me.

"I'm fine," she answers coldly. "Mikey, will you help me?" Claire stands straight, and I let her go.

"I got you." Mikey puts one hand on Claire's waist and holds her hand with the other. I can only watch as they enter Claire's room, thinking that it should be me helping her.

"Erik-" Mr. Wilson starts to say, but then he stops.

"Just give her these if she gets hungry, sir," I say, smiling, even though deep inside I want to punch the wall. "I'll go to my room now."

"All right, son. Have a good night."

"Good night, sir."

I head upstairs with a heavy heart, knowing that I won't be able to sleep as long as Mikey Bennet is still here.