These Fragmented Parts

CHAPTER FIVE

“After all, we are made of earth and even it goes through seasons.”

-Christopher Poindexter

CHARLIE

Waking up is the most tedious part for me; with or without a hangover. The only thing with hangovers is that they give me this wave of agitation whether the events from the previous day are nothing but an intricate dream and I don’t know which is worse. I remember everything that happened yesterday, but not as intricate as how I can remember it if I didn’t drink last night, but I know that there was a guy here when I arrived and his name is Adam, and he is no longer here. He left, but I can’t recall how. I sighed and tried to get up, placing the soles of my feet firmly on the ground as I felt the nerve pain screaming on my forearms. I wonder what my mother would tell me if she was still here; I’m sure she will revolt. She always believed that cheap girls drink hard that’s why she kept us away from any vices. 

From my vantage point, I could see that the storm was already over but the skies remained grey, gloomy as ever. A group of men which I assumed to be town hall staffs hovered by the uprooted tree as the beeping sound of a truck followed; I just then realized the storm was really that vehement yesterday. I looked around me and notice how this place lacked life and I haven’t even unpacked yet. I couldn’t muster the strength to do this; everything that I am running away from trails from behind like a spirit of a brutally murdered child, seeking vengeance. The doorbell suddenly rang, as I struggled to make my way to the door. I was still wearing the same damn clothes I was wearing yesterday. I looked at the peephole and saw Chloe. 

Oh s**t.

The doorbell rang once again, as I rushed to the bathroom and washed my face. I quickly gargled with some mouthwash by the sink, as I tugged the first shirt I was able to grab from my suitcase and wore it, the second sound of the doorbell was followed by three consecutive more; it was as though boiling water was splashed on my face, surprising and painful, still. All my life, I have been in a constant pressure cooker; I couldn’t recall a single moment in my life where I felt peaceful at the very least. It was as though I was raised to believe that life is this huge arena and I have to compete with the utmost strength and exertion I can give. During our younger years, we used to have this ritual called “Sunday Supremes” Every Sunday in which we do different activities it could be anything from painting, cooking, crocheting, and baking, to writing stories. My father was the trailblazer of that ritual but it went under my mother’s modification which was to make it as some form of contest where she will be the judge and the four of us, the contestants. The one with the most pleasing product gets a premium sundae, which is a sundae overloaded with toppings and syrups at our local ice cream parlour. I never got the chance to win at any challenge, given the age gap. I was just some kind of joker in a playing card deck; it was all about the three of them. I never impressed my mother at all. I opened the door with Chloe’s presence welcoming me, well, not literally. She wasn’t smiling and she was wearing a white button-up blouse, and a cream pencil skirt highlighting her narrow waist. The four of us has a common feature which is a darker shade of brown hair and a pair of blue eyes, although Chloe was older, I was taller than her. 

“You drank last night,” Chloe said flatly. “Seriously, you still had the guts to drink? Unbelievable.” She shook her head in disappointment. It gave me the feeling as though I have this telescreen here in my place, and she is some thought police and I will be held captive if I do anything against their will. 

“Anything I can help you with?”I said with full vigilance, although her mere presence was hurting me enough. “I know you haven’t looked for a job yet and Mrs Lacour is looking for some help worth one to two weeks,” She explained concisely. 

“Mrs Lacour?” I couldn’t remember who that person was. “It’s Stinson’s mom,” Stinson was Chloe’s new boyfriend who I haven’t properly met yet. The door remained open as she stood by the frame seemingly not wanting to stay longer. Impatience was painted on her face as well. 

“I don’t have enough time for further questions, just get dressed if you want some easy money.” My stomach was rumbling at the moment, but by the way, she looked at me, I understood that there will be no time for that.

“Just at least, make yourself at home.” I politely stated before I hurried to my room to take a shower. Among my three sisters; I was the closest with Chloe since she was a bit closer to my age. For a great period, I enjoyed sharing my secrets with her but one major upheaval switched our relationship of which caused her to be cold to me; so excessively cold. I quickly got dressed in some khaki pants and some white long sleeves, applied a bit of makeup so that I wouldn’t look like a corpse with a hangover. 

By the time I was done, she was looking more impatient than ever. I wanted to apologize, yet I did not. She just nodded her head, as we went out and I locked the door. I suddenly remembered Adam. I couldn’t help but wonder where he is right now; he didn’t leave his number or anything, it was a nice night last night and I wish I could’ve thanked him. 

My thoughts got swept away by Chloe breaking the silence between us as we entered the elevator. “When are you planning to unpack? Are you just going to make those boxes wait?”

“I’ll be doing it when I get home later,” I said primly and I was glad that she didn’t rebut. We headed straight to the parking lot, to her car. Silence everywhere, although I wanted to ask her how dad is doing. I bet she is not up for some conversation right now. I couldn’t decipher as to why they’re holding too much grudge on me; it had always been a big question mark in my life, is it because of the age gap between me and my sisters? Is it because I was less than an achiever? Is it because my sisters are already lawyers?

“Don’t f**k this up, Charlie. I’m having my fingers crossed on you,” She said with full of spite, full of resentment as if she just spat lava on me. I could feel it building up in me; the anger, the mixed emotions and the hysteria boiling up in me waiting to erode, “I know what I did, and I’m having a hard time too.” The car was immediately put into a halt as soon as the red light showed up as silence followed. I immediately regretted spitting those words although my insides felt as if it was boiling water; she slammed the steering wheel making me jolt upon the sound. I think I just prepared my own deathbed. 

“That’s all you ever say!” She was intensely infuriated. I certainly triggered her. I could see how much she abhorred me the way her eyes looked sharp with her heaving chest. “If there’s one person who deserves to carry all of these, that is you. You have no right to whine about anything. Not even a single thing. Get that in your head.” Silence followed as I remained frozen with the absence of defence. I eventually gave up since those words came out merely due to impulse, whatever I do, I lose anyway. It’s better not to say a word. 

Chloe pulled over in the driveway of what seemed to be a modernized mansion. I was expecting an office or something, but I did not ask. She wore her Balenciaga sunglasses before causing me to get out of the car and follow her. 

The skies were still quite gloomy at this time, and I noticed that it had more light than yesterday, but not even the sight of it appeased me. I still feel heavy.  The house had a post and beam structure with a flat shed roof, it looked extravagant but I wasn’t that taken aback. After a few rings of the doorbell, a middle-aged matronly woman with an apron opened the door with a warm smile, “Come inside,” The woman said as we both followed. 

“Mrs Lacour will be here any moment soon, Take a seat.” She said. Chloe and I sat on the couch, whereas I noticed how the interior of the house held pretty much minimalistic qualities. It appeared neat yet empty; almost nothing. Just high-grade furniture, I suppose. 

 After a couple of minutes waiting, a woman who seemed to be in her late fifties ascended from the staircase, her smile looked generic, as though it is the same smile she gives everyone she sees. Her hair was in a pixie cut and her curves were flattered by a tangerine dress that does not seem to fit her age. 

“Chloe, my dear!” Her voice was shrill as she gave my sister a warm hug. “I am glad to see you, it’s been a while. I thought of having some brunch with you and Stinson but he just left a few minutes ago, guess we should do it some other time.” She giggled; too much excitement trailed her voice. 

“Yeah, he mentioned it to me a while ago. Running late as always,” Chloe remarked. “Also, this is my sister, Charlie.” The woman nodded upon the sound of my name. “Have you told her why she’s here?” She asked which made me feel utterly uncomfortable. I do not know either why I am here, it almost felt as though the entitlement to ask was also stripped of me. 

“I haven’t told her the rest of it yet, I just thought that it would be better if the information comes first hand,” Chloe said. The woman smiled. “I see, so this is the case, dear. I’d be flying to Vienna tomorrow right away and I won’t be back until the next month, yes, is a month-long trip. And one of the helpers here took a leave for one week and Chloe- thank goodness has mentioned to me that you are currently unemployed. So the thing here is that you substitute the helper for a week, I’ll give you good cash, alright?” Her glare was pinned on me as if it directly pressured me to let her know that I understood it all despite the speed of her talking. I couldn’t even absorb it yet. I knew that Chloe told me that this woman was looking for some help. But it was beyond my expectations that this is the kind of assistance she put me in. 

“I got it,” I responded, feigning my readiness for this, the woman looks secretly impatient. 

“Good, I cannot stomach picking random people out there as substitutes. You know, it must be a person I can at least trust. For the instructions, I’ll leave it to Celine. Tomorrow will be your first day, alright? And there’s no such thing as being underpaid here. If you know what I mean,” She laughed, and I tried to follow through even though the thought of it was entirely overwhelming. I felt humiliated, not due to the reason that I degrade those people who have that kind of occupation but it was for the fact that my own sister invalidated my agony, and this wasn’t where I am supposed to be. 

But what do I have to fight the currents anyway?