THREE

I hissed as the cold air touched my skin. I walked over to the almirah, pushing past the broken door, the glass shavings crawling under my feet. 

I huffed, nothing to wear. A hand ran over my wet hair and I shook my head, to shake off the water. I looked back at my fingers, they were calloused on the tips. 

The cold wind gave me goosebumps all over my body and I looked at myself in the mirror.. well a lot of myself in the mirror, it was cracked. 

Red bumps and purple bruises coated my skin like a thousand tattoos. 

Anywhere I touched, it burned. 

Then my eyes fell on a black box beside the mirror.

My jaw ticked. 

I picked up the box, unsealing it and letting the same coloured ribbons fall. 

The cover revealed a cream-white shirt, navy blue tie, and a two-piece jet-black suit. 

“Here, try this one on, “ He ran over to me, and put a navy blue tie over my neck, matching it with the cream-white shirt I wore. 

“It's too tight,” I complained. 

He rolled his eyes and pouted, “it's just prom, you dork, just wear it.“ 

I grabbed a hold of his wrist and pulled him in, “Exactly, it's just prom, it's okay to look less professional,” allowing my breath to fan over his ears, I noticed his Adam's apple bobbing. 

“Fine, you can unbutton the first two buttons,” He responded quickly before running away. 

I chuckled to myself. 

My throat went dry. I let out a huff before I stomped off to my bed, rummaging through the sheets and the pillows. Finally, I flicked open the cigarette and lit it up, taking a long puff before releasing it. The creases between my brows relaxed with each puff, my muscles relaxed and my veins did so too. 

The smoke fogged my tensions, my worries, and any other unwanted fuckery. 

I kept the smoke between my lips as I slid into the shirt and the suit. 

After a few minutes, I gazed over to myself once again in the mirror. The shirt fit perfectly up to the neck, I kept the two top buttons buttoned. Neatly ironed and knotted tie. 

Too high, too damn high, it pulled my skin in. 

The suit piece complimented my muscles, molding over them. I was in no way huge, but I had a few cuts here and there and slightly defined biceps with a toned body. In baggy clothes, I seem really thin however, this suit made me out to be a bit muscular. 

I crushed the ciggarette on my table and brushed my hands on my wet towel. Running a hand through my hair, I tried to set them up. But they were so annoying and incorporative, a rebellious strand kept bpuncing them. 

Then I heard a knock, before letting whomever was outside, most likely my dad as I recognized his stomping feet on the stairs,”Coming!” I picked up my phone and ran out. 

No way in hell, he can see my room right now. 

It was in fucking shackles. I broke literally every damn thing I could reach out too. 

“Hey kid,” He pat my back and it took all in me not to break my ‘I'm good’ expression and cry out in pain. I hadn't bandaid my cuts, the blood already stopped due to the cold shower. I bathed in my blood, both figuratively and literally. 

“Hey Dad” I spoke in a rather low voice, lower than the one in my mind. 

He passed me a weak smile and we both began to load some stuff in the car. 

One of them being a huge bouquet of daisies and orchids. Something revolted in me but I pushed it back inside my head and simply sat down beside the flowers. My sister occupied the seat on the other side and my dad pushed the key in to start the engine. 

The passenger seat beside my dad was empty, not really empty- there were ‘gifts’ and hampers kept but my mum was not there. 

Doris must have noted my expression so she reached closer to my ear, whispering to me that mum hadn't come back last night from his house. 

I sniffed and passed her a grief nod. And she went back in her world. 

Just a few minutes into the ride, I could feel my skin crawl and my nerves starting to move. 

This was really fucking happening. 

I was really fucking going there. 

I will finally need to face this shit and I have no other choice. 

A cloud occupied in my throat, it was hard to speak or to swallow. My eyes burned and all I could hear was my own breathing, muffled tapping coming from my sister typing something on her phone with her long nails, they were pretty thought. Sky blue base and white lilies. My heartbeat was stressful. 

My jaw ticked and I tried to shake some tension off through grittering teeth and popping my knuckles.

Opening and closing my fist, digging nails in to my palms each time it closed. 

Then a sniffle escaped me, and my lips quivered. 

In front of my dad and my sister. 

I fucking sniffled infront of them. 

With teary eyes, I tried to sneak a peek to my dad, he wasn't looking at me. He didn't even say anything. He simply hummed softly and sped up. My sister hummed along. 

Then, the rain danced on the car windows with the humming, creating a melody so beautiful, so terrifying. 

I heard a low, faint humming. But it wasn't from my dad or my sister. It was deep, but neat. My dad's were deeper and my sisters were sweet. It wasn't theirs. And I wasn't humming myself. 

The unknown humming was muffled. I couldn't make it out. 

But it made my heart flutter, stitching back the ripped flesh. The voice, the song, it seeped into my skin and my mind. 

I felt what seemed like peace. 

Then I felt my stomach turning, peace? I asked myself. I felt at peace? I chuckled. 

Angrily, annoyingly.

Guilty. 

Peace? 

Motherfuckin- and the tires came to a halt, lodging me frontwards. The damn car is so old, it always acts up. 

“Sorry, kids,” Dad huffed. 

“We're here though, get the flowers, Arlo,” He instructed, and both him and Doris stepped out, grabbing stuff from the passenger seat on their way out. 

I took a few minutes to hate myself before I consider stepping out. Its hilarious to show myself to them, to him. My face muscles flexed and my lips quivered. I tried hard not to let the tears that threatened to escape escape. But they did. 

One after another, they streamed down my cheeks. 

Dropping on my pants. Great, now I have to put hands over my crotch so as to not appear as if I peed my damn pants. 

But then, I punched the seat in front of me. 

Fuck.. 

Why is this all so fucking hard? 

When the fuck did I fall so deep. 

When the fuck did I let myself fall like this? 

Fucking hell. 

I literally trashed- no, destroyed my damn room. Leaving it in shackles. It was as if a bulldozer had thrashed it. The only thing intact was my bed and the black box. 

Hell, I'm surprised I made a hole in my damn wall, that shit is made up of actual bricks?! 

Though my knuckles are ripped and I dislocated my pinky finger on my right hand too. 

I finally notice the time and wipe my tears off, grabbing the flowers and stepping out. 

With a deep guttural swallow, I stride through the gate of the funeral home and walk inside a room. 

The wind blew towards me and my chest got heavier, like thousands of bricks thrown on it. 

A picture stood beside the open casket, a white ribbon tucked onto it. I took a deep breath, walk, don’t be a wussy. I tried telling myself but no matter what, my legs froze when I looked at the white cloth draped over his face in the casket. 

Then someone patted my shoulder and my breath hitched. I looked at the voice calling me, “Arlo,” her voice was almost inaudible, and cracked up too. Sadness crept upon her features. 

“Yes, Ma,” I managed to reply between shuddering breaths. 

She gave me a hug and then she sobbed holding me. Uncle took her away, a sad frown etched up on his lips. 

Someone behind me, my sister actually, gave me a pat- almost a slight push. My legs shook as I walked closer and closer to the casket. 

Muffled, faint sounds of cries, a lot of ‘whys’, some “he’s there, he’s looking over us,” surrounded, but the rush of blood and heartbeat surmounted all. 

I finally stopped before the casket, my grip on the bouquet so tight and my nails digging into them. I’m surprised the stems didn’t squeeze and flowers didn’t fall off

I was drowning. 

And there was no one to keep me afloat.