Chapter 4: Chapter Three

Travis' Point of View

“You didn’t tell her?” Mom shouted at me. Apparently the reason why Michaela was so angry with me was because she didn’t know I was leaving. I thought I told her, I really did. She wanted to go abroad with our parents to study so I don’t understand why she’s so upset with me. Now she’s sitting across from me on the table, boring daggers through my soul with her evil eyes. I had found her in the home theatre, my favorite place in the house where I spend most of my times. I find comfort in watching movies no matter the genre. There are days that the only I leave that room is to eat and use the bathroom. When I asked her why she’s mad at me she just told me to fuck off then went back to have breakfast. That’s when she made a scene, making me look like an ass by going on and on about

“Why not?” Dad asked.

I shrugged. “I thought I did”

“Well you didn’t, cock-ass”

“Michaela, if I have to say another word to you about your choice of words you’ll regret ever learning to speak,” Dad said rather quietly with his eyes closed. When he took on that tone of voice and that calm look, shit is about to go down. Knowing this, Michaela noticeably sank in her seat. The thing is my parents aren’t very fond of the use of vulgar language and Michaela seem to have developed some kind of swear gene from God knows who. When she swears she put random words together and come up with the strangest combination of insults that I’ve ever heard of. She reminds me of Debra from Dexter.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, glaring at me.

“I don’t know why she’s so upset when she’s been begging you both to let her tagalong so she could study abroad”

“Michaela?” Mom urged. That was the voice that meant she’s waiting for an explanation. It’s funny how parents have their own language that their kids understand. They don’t even have to say much or explain, they just have to change the tone of their voice, give a certain look or change their poster and the kids know what they mean.

Michaela’s sigh caught my attention. “I don’t know,” she huffed. “He’s moving to a state where he knows no one. What if something happens to him? What if he needs someone to talk to?  At least his friends are still here for that. What if…I don’t know, just what if? It’s not a good idea being where he’s at right now”

“That’s the whole point,” I said, trying to get her to understand. I didn’t think she’d be worried about me. If anything I thought she would understand why I wanted to do this. “I just want to get away for a bit”

“Well you’re point is stupid!” She pouted, crossing her hands over her chest like a child. Rolling my eyes, I jammed my fork in the five triangle layers of pancake I cut and stuff it in my mouth.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, looking at the three of them. I know they’re worried about me but I need to do this for myself. I need to get better and move on.

“I swear, if you don’t call me, answer my calls, or Skype with me, the next time I see you I’m going to cut your di—”

“Michaela!” Both parents shouted. What’s with the women in this house being mad at me and threatening to rid me of my manhood? I shuddered and went back to eating. The conversation had switched on the topic of my well being, thankfully, to my moving.

Despite knowing that I’m going to miss my parents and my foulmouthed sister, I was excited about finally leaving. My parents bought me a nice condo in the city, just a short distance by car from the university I’m going to be attending.  I only saw it two times, when we went to buy and when it was being decorated a few weeks ago. The fact that I was in kind of a depressive state had made that experience so much better. Even though my parents are loaded they usually put us on a budget for everything and I’m sure I would have been moving into a dorm instead of living on my own in my own condo but that time they allowed me to get everything I wanted for my condo. It was sweet and I can’t wait to live in it.

I frowned, remembering when I overheard my mom talking to my dad. She was worried about me liking the place too much that I wouldn’t want to visit them but at the same time she was happy that I’m being independent. That’s my mother for you, always having conflicting thoughts—except for business of course. She’s a kickass lawyer, my dad’s right hand and his everything.

I frowned some more, thinking about my parents. Will I be that lucky to find that kind of love? That I’ll-see-you-through-everything kind of love that never dies like they have. They’ve been together since high school and they’re still together now. Because I felt so strongly for him I thought that would be it for me. I thought that I would have what my parents have. It was foolish of me to think so. That kind of love only happens once in a lifetime for some people, it’s very rare and most of the time it doesn’t last.

Slowly but surely I’m starting to realize that I want nothing to do with love. If it happens, it happens. I’m not going to search for it, I’m not going to wish for it, and I’m not going to hope it finds me someway, somehow. I’m going to live my life and try to free my heart, mind, body, and soul from each other. They constantly fight each other about who wants what, who’s right, what’s better, what’s more logical, who’s pathetic, who needs to move on and stop holding who back. In other words, I’m constantly at war with myself and that’s not good. I want to be at liberty with myself and everything around me.

Before I realized how much time had passed, I was hauling my suitcase and a duffle bag to my car.  Most of the things I’m going to need had already been shipped out and packed during the decoration of the condo. Turning around, I saw my dad with his arm around my mom, rubbing her shoulder trying to sooth her. I put a smile on my face, opening my arms for her. She smiled at me before walking into my arms. Much wasn’t needed to be said because we knew how each other felt. She kissed me on my cheek before stepping away from me. My dad embraced me in a big bear hug, picking me off the ground. I thought my bones were about to start cracking. He slapped my cheek with his middle and index finger affectionately before kissing me there and my forehead like he always does.

Then it was Michaela’s time. She just stood there, staring at me. I waited to see if she was going to give me a hug or just let me go since she’s still a little bit ticked at me. I offered her a smile and that’s all it took for her to lounge forward and throw her tiny arms around my neck. My sister and I are extremely close but it’s been a little rocky lately. Like I said, I’ve been feeling a little disconnected with everyone. It’s ruined a few of my friendships but the ones that understood stuck around and that’s the most important thing.

“Here,” Michaela whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She pulled away from me and began removing her Chinese calligraphy bracelet. I opened my mouth to tell her no I heard a “Shhh,” to shut me up. I know how special that bracelet is to her. When I was ten we went to China and this old man in a hotel gave it to her for good luck. She’s been wearing it ever since.

The old man told her that Chinese calligraphy is a reflection of the inner mind, emotions, and intellect of the calligrapher and that the way the calligraphy is written it is a portrait of the person who writes them. He said she was special that’s why he gave it to her. It was special to her so it meant a lot watching her put it on my wrist.

“Now you’re lucky too.” I nodded my thank you since I didn’t trust my voice. “Don’t give up yet, brother.” I nodded again, kissing her on her cheek and watch her step away from me. With one last wave goodbye, I got in my new Dodge Charger (that was supposed to be a graduation present but I just got it a few months ago).

As I drove away, I watch my family in the rearview mirror. Michaela stood in the middle with mom and dad’s arms around her. I felt the familiar sting in my eyes and I quickly looked away from them, hitting the gas pedal.

The drive to my new home took a little over two hours due to traffic. After settling in I called home to let them know I arrived and I’m safe. Mom bombarded me with a gazillion questions about eating and not staying up too late watching movies. I just mumbled “mhm” after every pause. It wasn’t like that was the first time we had that conversation. I settled into bed, staring at the ceiling. This is it, I thought. This is my new life. I hope I can be happy this time around. One week until school. With that, I closed my eyes.

A/N

It's short but it's something, right?