Eight 'O' Clock

[2] Fright

The bags were packed in a great commotion, with me shaking my head to the goofy woman in front of me-my mom and Alona who were ridiculously cracking dumb jokes about boys nowadays who are nerds or either the ones who watch out for girls with buttocks and big boobs. 

It was very difficult for me to relate to the only memories I had about boys were the least any girl would have. It was the scariest, and I had sobbed throughout when the pain exhilarated as a drink of poison and wine through me, pleasure never giving me what I had desired for. For once, I thought of how my mom slept next to my dad.

Feelings rose within me, and I turned silent much to the surprise of Unisan who was standing at the doorway, staring into my face with palms waving, to grab my attention. I apologized after a "Huh?......" and asked her the reason for having come over to the neighboring house despite both the homes being separated by a fence. She politely handed over some sweets in a blue box which she addressed as "Japanese special Tokyo Banana" to which I thanked her. 

Her dad standing at the gates was mumbling something in Japanese, which I caught as "Kun" and "Yatos" etc, nothing of them making any sense to my average graded brain cells. I nodded at him with a brief nod, to which he grunted. One of the best reactions I have got ever since the first day.

Alona was munching the sweets right away, after complaints of them being too sweet. I ignored with a smile and stuck everything into my Barbie doll picnic backpack, that was stuck in a hole near the attic with green muck and dust imprints. 

After a neat wash and a dry, I was able to stuff in my clothes, inners, gameplayer which is a broken piece of mass that I carry around ever since my kindergarten for my mom can't afford me the new PSP or PlayStations, a music player in case I get bored and small comics of genre which I liked to read. 

A photo of my mother in case I get homesick and of course last but never the least, my Sara-who might sound like a sister of mine but is a Brown case who knows my entire life. Her pages preserve them the most without any further interrogations. The main logic why I rely on her the most.

It was a night of hope. A new hope where I was expecting the incoming fortnight would give me good memories to keep. Friends who would comprehend and be shoulder support. Boys who would be caring brothers. Teachers who listened intently. But it was all an unseemly fantasy, which lived in dreams and alternate universes or in Hollywood movies.

 Indeed, it was a fantasy because ever since the second grade, my vision of a happy life changed. It had been of a petite family of four, mingling happily with a dad who came to meet and hug me, while my mom made food for him after an exhausting day. They would caress each other and he would feel for the little growing embryo in her tummy, after saying, "Goodnight, Inas", the way he would address him after he pushed his way out. 

But it was a remarkable change! One day which had been extended by a  week of disturbances, money enigmas that arose out of nowhere, suspicions of my mother hanging out with the milk guy which abruptly stopped his arrival, abortion talks-all of them came out of the blue. I would come back to a home of silence and awe, my mother bawling her eyes out while she held onto his legs. 

It was that day. The August twenty-fifth of last two years-Twice when my mother would moan by the fire burnt by her in the evening beside a palm tree, reminiscing how he had crushed her ring finger by pulling out her wedding ring, to throw it into the fire.

The night never bloomed again with happiness. Instead, I was glorified by Dracula, werewolves, and aliens every night making my dreams weirder as time passed by. Blood and urine on my face, and to make it worse-some boy on top of me.

Morning rose to sad goodbyes and 'Miss you' s by my mother. She wasn't home when I left but my insomnia for the night made me feel her soft peck and the croak of a whisper that said, "Miss you honey. Stay safe" at dawn. I never promised her the latter.

I brushed and bathed on the shower because my armpits stunk, and fed myself some previous day's banana milkshake and toasted bread. I locked the door and kissed the key, letting it beside the bush where my mom burnt daily garbage, for the silver key managed to camouflage itself with the ashes, a good purpose out of the garbage.

I took my bicycle which went a "Creak!' whenever I placed my butt on it, and I  reconsidered returning the daily welcome it gave to me every day, for the thought of it made me puke. The morning sun was just rising and the red light dazzled a little, while I rode through the cold wind gushing against my face, making me more comfortable. There wasn't anyone around except for some joggers who weighed a ton, and some vegetable vendors who would work on a public holiday too.

Within five minutes, I had managed to reach the entrance where I placed my bicycle after a long search for the parking zone, as I wasn't used to it. I hardly used this bicycle because it was a gift from my dad on my thirteenth birthday, and among all the birthday gifts he sent by cargo this was the only one that stood put in the house. The remaining were in the hideout of our house keys.

Thankfully, many eyes didn't bore into me due to the crowd and it wasn't minutes later, I was dragged by Alona who found me standing with a hanging head, among the thousands gathered there. We safely sat on the auditorium stage where many had booked their seats on the dusty zone, making it hard for anyone to accommodate.

Roll call followed by Mrs. Isha who was wearing a scarf on her head due to her allergy, and she coughed now and then. It was the typical chronological order with the ones who joined first getting their names on the list initially followed by the others. 

I took out my music player and started to listen to songs with Alona listening through one of the headphones. She was singing along loudly while I, in the fear of being noticed, sang behind the bars of my prison where only me and my conscience stood, while we both swung the legs sideways to the beautiful tone.

Minutes later, the shadow appeared. It was long enough for me to guess who it was. The shadow which hung on the ground left me gaping a little for he looked even gorgeous that way. His backpack swung over the right arm which was held in a cast after falling in a slam dunk match with the sophomores, the six feet tall figure and his shoes were pointed forward.

My eyes didn't meet his and I kept staring at the ground, even after repetitive nudges from Alona who had been questioning him now, in her typical husky voice which was some reverse phenomenon of puberty feminine changes. 

'What are you staring at, huh?"

"Do we girls look like we want company?"

"Is something troubling you, Mister? Shall I get you a cup of coffee from Mr. Jason?"

It was a cliche, now when anyone referred to the Capuccino Mr. Jason's wife offered at their homes, it would be filled with those leftovers from last night's milk or grape juice, due to her long nails that never actually cleaned them properly.

The questions were teases and gibes, dripping from a sixteen-year-old who remained single after her dad had died in a car crash, and a lad in the bike was the cause of it. Ever since then, she refused any relationship in the fear of what she remarked as, "Lord alone knows whether my boyfriend would kill Amma". So despite the glamourous looks of Alona, she denied every boy who came craving for her.

I wasn't expecting him to answer. 

But his seductive laugh followed by the remarkable comment made me cringe so hard, I could have sworn I needed to change my panties.

"Eww! That is gross, girl. Whatcha say, Inayatie~?"