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The morning came crashing through the
windows of the guest room I was staying in, just like I knew it would —
I had forgotten to shut the blinds before I went to sleep. My body lay
sprawled over the bed and I was on my stomach, the covers down to my
waist and tossed every which way in a giant jumble of fabric. My hair
fell clumsily over my face and across the pillow, and a strand raised
and fell when I breathed. My eyes blinked tiredly awake, the sun nearly
blinding me. I groaned as pain shot through to my sinuses and I turned
away from the bright window, laying a hand over my face.
I could hear movement downstairs on the main floor. I looked over at the
digital clock which read 7:01 AM. Why was John up so damn early on a
Saturday?
I reluctantly pushed myself out of bed with great effort and went
next-door to the bathroom to freshen up. I splashed cold water on my
face to wake myself up.
A few of the bruises from two days prior to today — particularly one on
my knee — ached when I took steps. It made me think of Edward and Ben
and then it made me wonder if John gathered any information on them yet.
John’s voice gradually grew louder as I approached the bottom of the
stairs, and I could tell he was talking with one of his clients — he had
on his business voice. I turned the corner and saw him, his back facing
me, fully clothed in a dark gray fancy business suit and he was talking
on his Blackberry. I stepped an inch closer and the wood flooring
creaked. His hair was freshly washed, and as he turned I saw that his
face was freshly shaven as well. His eyes shone as he gave me a small
smile and a nod, then turned back around. I curiously walked over and
sat down at the kitchen table, wondering who he was talking to at this
early hour.
“Yes, you can come see me on Monday. I will have them all ready for you.
Take care of yourself, alright?” John clicked his phone shut and spun
around to see me staring right back at him.
“Good morning,” he said, breaking our eye contact and walking over to
the fridge. “Would you like something quick to eat?”
“Quick?” I asked, unimpressed. It was rare that I ate breakfast with
someone, and I was a tad upset to find out we were rushed.
“We have to be at the RSLN for nine,” he reminded me, shuffling through
the bottom of the fridge and getting out an apple. He walked over to me,
doing a little trick with the apple in his hands and then tossed it to
me. My reflexes awakened as I perked up to catch the apple. I examined
it carefully, realizing that I wasn’t in the mood for eating anything
whatsoever.
“Oh yeah. They want to meet me, right?” I asked, already knowing the
answer.
“That’s right,” John said, putting his hands on his hips and eyeing me
inspecting the apple. “Eat it, it’s good for you.”
“An apple?” I looked up at him incredulously. “It’s just a tiny fruit.
How much nutritional value can be in it?”
“Don’t underestimate the small,” John said matter-of-factly with a
pointed finger as he brushed passed me and walked over to his desk in
the living room. He shuffled through a few papers, talking to me from in
there. I took it he was gathering some last minute files up.
“You have to eat something,” he said, still occupied.
I groaned, putting the apple down on the table in front of me. “I’m not
hungry.”
He looked over at me for a few seconds, then sighed and looked back.
“Alright, then. Go get dressed.”
“In what?” I asked dubiously, looking over.
John paused after gathering a few papers in his hand. He walked over to
the entrance of his house, grabbed his briefcase which was against the
closet, then walked back into the kitchen. The briefcase slammed hard
against the surface when he placed it down, the little combination locks
shaking.
“Hadn’t thought of that,” he said, looking a bit unsure of what to do.
“I can’t have you wear those clothes from two days ago...”
I eyed him, waiting for an answer.
“It’s okay, we’ll make a short stop at your house.” John shut his
briefcase after putting a few papers in and then grabbed it, waiting for
me to move. “Come on, let’s leave now so we’re not late.”
“What? John, no —” I got off the tall stool and followed John, who was
already walking off toward the front doors. “I can’t go back —”
John slipped on his shoes, looking over to me as he did so. I just stood
there anxiously watching him.
“I don’t want to go back there. He’s going to know something’s up if you
show up too,” I shook my head. “I’ve been gone for three days.”
“Don’t worry about it,” John said coolly, nodding his head toward the
door. I knew that meant he wanted me to get a move on.
I angrily sighed and walked over, slipping on my tattered shoes. I never
bothered to tie the laces. “You don’t know what he’s going to do when he
finds out I’ve been with you. He already despises you, thinks your
putting things in my head.”
John held his hand over the doorknob, trying to catch my eyes with his
intense gaze. “I said don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it,
alright?”
I stared right back at him, but then broke our gazes with a shake of my
head. “Whatever.”
• • •
The car ride over to Ron’s place was long and drawn-out, and as I gazed
out the window to my side at passing buildings and houses, I couldn’t
help but shift uncomfortably knowing what was soon to come. I hated
every inch of that house because every corner, every table, every lamp
reminded me of Ron. I couldn’t even step an inch into that house without
getting sick to my stomach, reminded of all the secrets that were kept
hidden by the walls. Every wall told a story of what it had seen in its
lifetime. A vase shattered a few months ago, a crazed man approaching
his son with a piece of the vase’s glass and engraving his son’s skin
with it... But the walls couldn’t speak, so they were the only ones who
held all the secrets.
I guess John noticed my anxiety, because he looked over while we were
stopped at a red light. “Stop fidgeting, it’s going to be fine.”
I was tired of John’s reassuring words at this point, because I knew
that what he was saying wasn’t true. When Ron was around, things were
never ‘fine’.
“No, okay?” I spat, raising my voice. “Things won’t be fine. You don’t
know my father. You think you know who he is but you really don’t. He’s
so much more twisted than you could ever imagine. So if you want to go
in then fine, but I’m not fucking going in there. I didn’t even ask to
meet stupid child services anyway. So you can just drop me off on the
street if you have a problem with that.”
John kept his hand on the steering wheel, making a left turn. He didn’t
say a word, but merely kept the same expression he always had when he
was letting me get out my feelings. It angered me so much that he didn’t
talk back. I wanted so desperately for him to counter my arguments.
“What are you doing? I said drop me off. Let me out of this stupid car,”
I said, my voice still tempered.
“What kind of a man would I be if I left an innocent boy roaming the
streets of Chicago all by himself?” He said, looking straight ahead
through the windshield.
“I can manage.”
“Be rational, Shuro. Look what happened the last time you thought you
could manage.”
My eyes stared at him in shock and disbelief. “Just let me out now.” I
tried opening the door, but it was automatically locked, which was no
surprise since he was still in the middle of driving.
He noticed my struggle and finally stopped the car in front of a few
street shops. Once the car was fully brought to a halt, he took his
hands off the steering wheel and leaned back in his seat, his head
looking over to me. I didn’t look at him but instead I opened the car
door and pushed myself out, shutting the door behind me. All I knew was
that the air smelled so much cleaner outside and the cool air blew
through my hair as I walked along the sidewalk, folding my arms. I
sighed, unsure of where I was really going. I had only walked a few
meters from John’s car when I realized I was probably making a stupid
mistake. Where would I go if I couldn’t go back to John’s house? I made
it pretty clear that I wasn’t going back home, if I could even call it
that. When I realized what an idiot I was being, I slowed my pace down
and stopped in my tracks. I sighed again, looking up at the passing
clouds and thinking it all over. I really had nowhere else to go, and
John was right to remind me about the last time I wandered off. It would
only make things worse if I left. I slowly turned around, praying John’s
car was still there. Sure enough, it was. I casually walked back over,
approaching the car again. I put my hands in my back pockets, realizing
I was still in the plaid pajama pants John had lent me, along with the
white tank. I opened the car door and slumped back into the passenger’s
seat awkwardly, shutting the door once I was inside without a word. He
didn’t speak either; he didn’t need to, but instead shifted the car into
gear and continued driving. It seemed as though he was expecting the
whole thing.
My stomach leaped when we passed through the large black gates leading
to Ron’s manor. When John finally stopped the car, I didn’t get out
right away, but instead stayed frozen in my seat staring out the
windshield at the enormous house before us. Everything about it was
huge. Even the car was a spec compared to the giant driveway. Everything
was so familiar, yet it still managed to taunt me every time I saw it.
“You ready?” John asked, taking the keys from the ignition and placing
them inside his suit coat.
“Yeah,” I said, pretending that everything was okay. “But just so you
know, he knows nothing about the conviction. And... now would not be a
good time to tell him.”
“I think now would be the perfect time to tell him, actually,” John
said, starting to get out of the car.
“John —” I hesitated, reaching over and tugging his arm for him to halt.
“...Please.”
John turned back and stared me in the eyes for a moment, before nodding
acceptingly. “Okay.”
We walked up to the intimidating doors and I stood behind John as he
rang the bell. We waited a while and after a few minutes John rang
again. He folded his arms, shifting his weight.
“Do you keep a key?” He asked me.
I looked at him incredulously. “He doesn’t exactly want me back.”
Finally the doors before us opened, exposing a musty smell of smoke,
most likely from the dozens of cigarettes he tended to light up
everyday. And just like that, behind the comforting man that was John, I
saw the man whom I couldn’t despise more in life, the man that
completely murdered every last inch of my childhood.
He stood in the doorway, with a cunning grin on his face at the sight of
John. He was still in his pajamas; a smooth black silk set. I glared
scornfully up at him through narrowed eyes and stepped out from behind
John. His gaze shifted over to me, the corners of his mouth twisting
into a contorted false smile, his eyes not leaving mine. His jet black
hair drooped messily over his eyes, and he didn’t budge but merely kept
his strong posture standing in the way of us coming inside. The ashes
from the cigarette which hung in his fingertips fell to the floor, and
he didn’t even bother to notice.
“Back so soon?” He addressed me, inhaling the nicotine. “And I see
you’ve brought along Mr. John Gillis, your lawyer friend.”
“We’re just here to pick up a few of Shuro’s belongings,” John spoke
sternly in replacement of me, which was probably a good idea since what
was about to come out of my mouth wouldn’t have been the most delightful
choice of words.
Ron turned and casually walked inside, his slippers shuffling against
the marble flooring. It was a sign that he was finally allowing us to
enter his precious manor.
I stepped past John, walking straight into the filthy rich house that I
had lived in for the past eight years. I was prepared to head up the
enormous spiral staircase, when something that felt like a clammy goblin
vigorously latched on to my arm and tugged me backwards. I flung back,
swinging around to see the vicious face of my father staring back at me
through sunken-in eyes.
“Where were you?” He forcefully whispered, tightening his grip on my
arm.
I struggled, watching his nails dig into my arm as my blood circulation
failed where he was grasping.
“Away from you,” I said, then spat at his face.
Ron’s face twisted and shook quickly with anger, then he swung his other
arm back. I prepared for the worst, bracing myself and shutting my eyes
out of instinct.
I didn’t, however, feel any pain then, but instead heard John’s voice
addressing Ron. I opened my eyes to see John gripping on to Ron’s right
arm just the way Ron was mine.
“You know there is a law against child abuse, Mr. Morrison. You could
spend the rest of your years rotting in prison for hitting a child,”
John said strictly, his eyes couldn’t be more intense. It was as if he
were burning holes through Ron’s very soul with just his stare.
Ron released me, shaking off John’s hold as well. He stepped on the
cigarette which had fallen out of his hand and on to the floor,
apparently caring less about it leaving a mark.
“Yes,” Ron said. “Except I don’t see a child around; only a filthy
brat.”
“You fucking prick —” I started, but was silenced by John pressing a
firm hand against my chest and looking down at me understandingly.
“Shuro, go get your things,” he said sternly, as if to say ‘I’ll take
care of this’.
I eyed Ron sourly one last time before turning and heading up the grand
staircase.
“Who do you think you are, his father?” I heard Ron’s voice echo
throughout the house.
“I’m more of a father to him than you are. What kind of a father abuses
their child then leaves them to aimlessly wander the streets? Do you
even care at all what happened to him the day he ran away? I’m sorry,
Mr. Morrison, but this kind of behavior is simply unacceptable for an
adult.”
I didn’t want to know what Ron had to say, so I hurriedly got changed
into a white blouse and tie and some black jeans. I figured I would
dress nice for the Child Services, just so I could at least look decent
next to John. It felt good to wear clothes that actually fit me again. I
really had no idea how long I would be staying with John, so I just
grabbed the nearest backpack and shoved as much clothes I could find in
it.
I heard some commotion coming from below, so I sped down the stairs once
everything I needed was packed. I saw Ron pointing a finger at John,
getting up in his face. I stepped off the last step, wondering what was
going on. I clutched my bag, the concerned look on my face attracting
John’s gaze.
Without a word, John walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder,
leading me out of that wretched place. Before we stepped outside, John
turned to face Ron, pointing a finger the same way Ron had to him.
“Don’t expect to see your son ever again, except on the podium
performing the lawsuit against you,” he said in the sternest voice I had
ever heard him use. His eyes were narrowed as he frowned disdainfully at
Ron, staying paused for a second. He didn’t wait to hear Ron’s answer
though, but instead turned back around toward me and shut the door hard
behind him.
My lips formed a tight smile of gratitude for John, who gave me a small
reassuring one in return. Even though I was grateful for John’s actions,
part of me was now being told that Ron knew what we were planning
against him.
“What was he telling you, anyway?” I asked, still clutching the strap of
my backpack, walking down the large steps and onto the gigantic
mile-long driveway.
“Basically I told him he needed psychiatric help. He turned me down on
the offer.”
I smirked, enjoying John’s view of Ron all too much. A few months ago I
would have never let them come face to face. I loved how he treated Ron;
it made me feel like something was finally being done about Ron’s
abusive nature, instead of it just being me suffering the consequences.
We approached John’s sleek black Audi R8 and I slid in, taking off my
backpack and shoving it at my feet.
“That,” John started, eyeing my get-up, “is much better than pajamas.”
I looked over at him with a sly grin. “Really? I think the RSLN would
have loved the plaid.”
John smirked, putting the car into gear. He looked behind, then in the
front review mirror, starting to drive out. “Seatbelt,” he reminded me,
and before I knew it we were escaping that godforsaken territory for
what I hoped would be the last time.
• • •
The RSLN was a large building populated by a bunch of mediocre people
all sitting in one large waiting room. There were windows on either side
of the room as well as above, so the sunlight was streaming through on
the faces of the people who were seated. I saw a few children with their
mothers, huddled together and whispering to each other.
John didn’t bother sitting down and waiting, but instead he nodded for
me to follow him when I stopped and hadn’t realized he’d gone on. He
headed toward an elevator at the end of the room. I quickly picked up my
pace and waited with him by the doors of the elevator.
“I didn’t know it was a clinic,” I said gazing back around over the
people, a man coughing over in a corner as I did so.
“Yep,” John nodded. “It helps those who need the medicine but can’t
afford it. Think of it as a government-funded community health center.”
The elevator chimed, and the doors opened, letting us in. By the time we
reached the third floor I was shifting my weight uncomfortably from foot
to foot, gripping the end of my black tie.
As we approached the fourth floor, John looked over to me with a
reassuring smile. I didn’t know how high we were going, but come to
think of it the building did look extremely tall on the way in.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “Here.” He turned his body to face me and
grabbed my tie out of my hands very smoothly and gently. “You’ve got it
wrong.” He untied my messy knot and ran his fingers down the silky
material, straightening it out again.
“Oh,” I said, my face getting hot. I looked down at what he was doing.
“I thought something was off. I think I just —” I gestured with my hands
nervously, “put the thing under instead of over.”
My heart raced beneath his fiddling hands, the elevator silent. I
swallowed, and he gazed down at me. When he was successful in tying it
the correct way, he ran his fingers down my tie again, feeling the soft
material, the backs of his fingers trickling over my chest.
“Don’t worry,” he told me supportively. “You’ll do fine.”
I looked up at him through anxious eyes and held his gaze for a moment
before nodding and looking to my left at the opening elevator doors. |
