THE JOURNEY OF SHEIRA HART

6 | An Overrated Sack of s**t

I was never a fan of any sports. Let alone soccer. But I know for certain there's never a part to any kind of game where a player points to one of the audience and says, "This one's for my dear friend over there.”

I froze as all of the crowds' eyes were on me. "I will win this for you," he went on and the whole field went silent. If I was one of the audience and it so happens that another person is in my shoes, I would have thought they're pretty close. I would have thought they're people who have known each other for quite a while.

But I don't know him and he absolutely doesn't know me. I never gave him my name and he had the nerve to call me a dear friend? Is he that lonely to place a bet in order to call someone his dear friend?

I wanted to wallop him left and right for putting me in a very awkward position. I have never been to situations like this before as far as I can remember. I didn't know what to do as I felt the eyes of the crowd on me. And several seconds later, the crowd cheered. The people sitting beside me clapping their hands and I wasn't even sure why they were doing it.

I wanted to shrink. It was that moment that I wanted to get swallowed whole. I didn't care if I'd die the second time but I really wanted to disappear from the crowds' eyes as they directed their attention towards me.

I cursed Mikhael in my mind, glaring at him from across the field. But he just smirked at me as if saying I couldn't do anything. That I already signed up for this and I couldn't back out. Not now. Not when it's already too late. But I made sure to pin a note inside my mind that I am definitely going to punch him after all this.

The cheers didn't die immediately even as the game started. I couldn't quite identify which team are most of the crowd cheering on but with the boos I heard earlier from the audience to the opposing team, it became clear. And when Mikhael di Angelo landed a goal, it became clearer who the crowd's favorite is. Mikhael di Angelo raised both his arms up and waved to the crowd as the audience kept chanting his name for that goal.

"And that was the defending champion's team captain, everyone," Leo said in his microphone. He looks like he's also a fan. I crossed my arms and watched them go wild. I was never a fan of any kind of sports so I can't hype myself the way the others do.

"It's still too early to tell but," Leo leaned to Mr. Grim and whispered but loud enough to hear, "I can already tell di Angelo's going to make them eat dust."

I don't know if he did that on purpose but they sure are doing a good job provoking the other team. I could see how pissed the other team is. And the crowd was even laughing at Leo's remark. If only I wasn't here because of a bet, I would have screamed the other team's name on top of my lungs. Just to piss them all off. I don't know why they hate the other team so much. Or maybe they liked Mikhael di Angelo too much? I find it incredulous.

Mikhael di Angelo is an overrated sack of s**t.

Even the commentator, Leo, was clearly someone who favors Mikhael's team rather obviously. I remained seated on my seat and did not join the hype every time di Angelo scores. I could see Mr. Grim shaking his head at Leo's backhanded comments against the other team.

I am not certain if it was the boos or the commentator's comments or the general insults they threw that the opposing team lost the game. Mikhael's team won and they were running around the field, screaming at their victory. The crowd cheered too, of course. But I sat there quietly. Waiting for it to be over so I could finally be done with what I was tasked to do today until Mikhael grabbed the microphone and put it close to his mouth. Despite the distance, I swear he was looking at me. And the crowd must have noticed it too as they all looked at me.

I groaned inwardly. "Not again," I mumbled with gritted teeth as I gave him silent warnings using my eyes. But he just ignored it walked closer to where I am. The crowd murmured and I honestly don't have any idea what he was going to do. If he's going to sing in front of me I am going to groin him without hesitation.

I didn't have a choice but to stand too and met his gaze. He cleared his throat when I didn't smile back.

"I told you I am going to win this," he said and showed me the trophy. I honestly have no idea what the bet was all about. I am certain it's not just about me showing up to the game. With the things he has done earlier, I know there's more to it.

But I managed to tilt my head and gave him the sweetest smile I could afford before I said, "Congratulations."

The crowd murmured. I was itching to punch him in the face to give the audience something worthy to be murmuring about. But I stopped myself. Punching him can wait. My trip to the other side is at stake.

"You don't need to look so happy about it," he said and even had the nerve to tap my shoulder. My smile wavered and I looked at my shoulder where just touched.

He put the mic down and leaned before he said, "Come on, at least try to look genuinely happy."

"I am happy," I said, gritting my teeth.

He scoffed. "So happy that you're gritting your teeth. You look like you are moments away from snapping my neck."

"I was determined to punch you in the face but snapping your neck doesn't seem like a bad idea, either." I leaned forward. "I was curious if one could die here, anyway. Might as well test it on you."

He leaned back and laughed. He then braced his arms around my shoulder and pulled me closer. "Isn't she sweet?" he announced and I couldn't do anything other than to put a fake smile towards the audience.

And I remained it plastered across my face even as we walked down the bridge. I don't how long do we need to be together but I just followed whatever he says. I didn't say anything as we walked down but he doesn't seem to know the meaning of silence as he kept blabbering on how he scored and how he had won the game and of course, the bet. He was tossing the soccer ball using his hands and then his knees while walking. And then he let it go above his head and then to his back and back to his foot.

"Were you a player when you were still alive?" I finally asked.

He didn't look at me and he continued playing with the ball. "Yes, I was."

I didn't say anything and continued walking. But we were stopped in our tracks when someone stepped in front of us. He was bulky, tall, and was wearing a soccer uniform. And I realized he was on the other team.

"Hey, Kalil!" Mikhael greeted but the man wasn't inclined to greet him back. His stare was fixed on me, and I bristled as he scanned me from head to foot.

"Why did you come?" he asked.

I looked at him questioningly. He must have read the questioning look on my face that he repeated, "Why did you come to the game?"

I looked at Mikhael and he was just looking at the guy.

"Am I not supposed to?" I answered and I could have sworn I heard Mikhael stifling his laughter. Kalil's face became dark as he stared at me.

"Come now, Kal. I won the bet, don't sound so bitter about it," Mikael said and this time, he really caught Kalil's attention.

"What did you say?"

"I said--"

"We should get going. Keep practicing!" I smoothly cut in and grabbed Mikhael's hand and walked fast. It was when I realized that what I said was so much worse when we heard Kalil call us. We looked at him and he was walking faster towards our direction and he looked like he's ready to punch us in the face.

"Alright, on the count of three, we're running," Mikhael said.

I looked at him, confused. "What?"

"One," he started and grabbed my hand.

"Wait a second--"

"Three!"

Before I could even say something, he dragged me to run as fast as we could. "You said at the count of three!" I yelled.

"That was three!" he countered and I resisted the urge to whack him. I looked behind only to see Kalil running after us.

"He's chasing us!"

"That's we're running," he said and I could only glare at him.

"If you didn't provoke him--"

"I wasn't the one who told him to keep practicing." He looked at me and a playful grin was plastered across his face. "Good job, by the way."

"I don't know if it's possible but by the look on his face, he might as well kill us today."

"He always looks like he's ready to kill someone even when he's asleep. Don't feel too special."

I groaned and kept my pace faster. I hated running. I hated any kinds of activities that require too much movement. I don't like it when I sweat. And with that, I was panting for breath easily. But thankfully enough, Mikhael pulled me into a narrow alleyway where we decided to hide. I was panting and I could feel my knees shaking. But Mikhael's arm was in front of me keeping me up. He put his finger on his lips and I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle my panting. I was sweating profusely and I was still inclined to punch Mikhael in the face.

We didn't hear any footsteps following us into the alleyway. When Mikhael thought it was already safe, I heard him let out a relieved sigh and then laughed heartily.

"What are you laughing at?" I asked, trying to stabilize my breathing.

"Well, that was the most fun. Just when I thought you're just a boring hag—"

"Excuse me?"

"—you completely changed my first impression of you. Congratulations."

"Boring? Congratulations? " I scoffed.

"I never saw you stood and cheered every time I score a goal."

I closed my eyes firmly, reminding myself that I am in the afterlife and that snapping his neck might get me sent to another dimension for all I know.

"You told me to come, and I did. And besides, you already had thousands of people cheering on you. I don't really understand why you need me there in the first place."

I saw him rub the back of his neck. I gave him a doubtful look. With the small amount of time we've been together, I could already read he was lying. "There was another bet, wasn't it? Or what you told me wasn't the whole truth at all."

I stepped forward and he stepped back. "What is it? Tell me the truth, di Angelo."

I saw him swallow hard before he raised both his arms up. "Alright! Alright! Fine. Geez." He stood straight. "I might have told them my girlfriend would be coming to watch my game."

I blinked.

"Girlfriend?"

He swallowed before he nodded. "Yes...?"

I clenched my fist and he took another step back. "Did you know I was itching to punch you in the face?"

"There was no harm done! And besides, what I asked was just too little compared to what you wanted me to do."

He has a point. But still, "You could have at least told me the truth. I would have agreed nevertheless."

"I don't know. You don't seem like the type to have a boyfriend."

I gave him a sharp look.

He just clicked his tongue. "You could have at least clapped your hands—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards me. He was tall and pulling him only made him lean towards me. "I did my part. You won the bet, you won the game, you pissed the captain off of the other team. Don't blabber about the things I didn't do just because I thought it was unnecessary. Now you will do your part. We made a deal."

A surprised look was visible on his face and moments later, a grin was plastered across his face.

"What's your name?" he asked.

My brows furrowed. "Why does it matter?"

"We'll be together on the other side for I don't know how long. I can't be calling you sweetie all the time—" he paused and then flashed an annoying smirk "don't tell me you like to be called sweetie?"

"Are you on drugs?" I asked and let go of his collar. He just laughed.

"What reason do you have that's you're not telling me your name?"

"Because you made a bet out of it and I don't feel like telling you about it now."

"Then I'll call you sweetie."

I just sighed and looked at him. "You like provoking people. If I find out how you died, I wouldn't be surprised if it's because of an angry random person you just provoked."

"People love me!" he said and let out a laugh. "Or maybe I should say, souls."

I rolled my eyes and started walking, not minding his continuous call for attention.

"Sweetie!" he called and I continued to walk. I can't imagine how it would be once we're on the other side together.

"Hey, sweetie--"

"Drop it!" I turned to face him only to see his grinning face. "One more word and I am really going to kick you in the face."

"Oi, you can kick me anywhere but the face."

"Yeah?" I walked closer to him and gave him a small smirk. My eyes went to his groin and he took a step back before I could even execute my plan.

"Not there, too," he said and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Why don't you tell me your name?"

"I'll tell you next time. I'm not in the mood for introductions." I was about to turn when I heard Raph's voice somewhere.

"Sheira," he called. I saw him at the end of the alley. I closed my eyes firmly when I heard Mikhael chuckling beside me.

He stepped beside me and inserted his hands inside his shorts pockets before he said, "Sheira, huh."

I gave Raphael a sweet smile and I could have sworn his smile faltered.

"Nice timing," Mikhael and I said in unison. We both looked at each other and I just rolled my eyes and started walking.

I never knew souls get tired of running.  

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