Dylan
I heard my phone ringing, it was just placed beside the couch that I’m sleeping on. I checked to see whoever it was and it was from my sweet mother. Why is she calling me early in the morning? Doesn’t she know that I don’t liked being called early in the morning especially on weekends?
I slide to unlock, “Hello?” I hissed.
My eyes were still closed and I felt like sleeping more. I want to go to sleep please. It’s Saturday for god’s sake.
“It’s weekend, aren’t you going home? You’re not even college yet and you kept on distancing away from us.” She had her voice calm compared to our conversation last time.
“I’ll come home, later. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” I ended the phone call and didn’t waited for her reply.
Not that I’m irritated of what she’s doing, I’m just sleepy. I can’t afford to hear her sermons especially when I don’t want my morning to be ruined in just one phone call.
I heard small footsteps on my apartment and I knew it was Kate. I opened my eyes and got up, even if I was still too sleepy. What time is it anyway?
She was putting on her shoes and tied the laces. She was very quiet and gentle, as if she doesn’t want to be seen and to be noticed that she’ll be leaving.
I smirk and called out her attention. “Going somewhere?”
She was startled and faced me. She stands up from the floor and try to look her best. Her hair was all a mess and her clothing was all crumpled up.
“I have to go.” She points out the door and came to face at her back.
She doesn’t even remember that her bag was on the table, she also forget to thank me.
“You forgetting something?” I said.
She faced me once again, “Thank you for letting me stay and I promise you this is the last time we’ll meet again.”
What a rude way to say your gratitude to a person. What was her problem? Why does she treat me as someone who she can’t be friends with?
“What? Why do you keep on distancing away from me?” She just made my head ache and my boil in the same time.
That’s the thank you that I’m getting? It’s not even a thank you.
She turned her back and didn’t replied to what I said to her.
"Good bye.” She twisted the door knob and open the door. She exited from my apartment without looking at me. She’s unpredictable.
What happened last night? Doesn’t she had the great time? Because I was happy hanging out with her. It was comfortable and I felt like slowly we’ll be good friends. Am I the only one who had fun last night? Girls like her is unpredictable.
I give up. I can’t understand the likes of her anymore.
She even forgot to bring her bag, she’s focused on going home that she forgot to get her bag. Who would forget her bag? I’m sorry Kate but I think we’ll meet again.
I took her bag from the table and explored the things inside it. I’m not a thief and I don’t intend to get something from her bag. I just want to see or at least to find a hint of what Kate is really is.
There’s notebooks, books, pens, her earphones and a sketch pad. I checked her notebooks if there is at least writings about her or something. You know, a diary? I heard there are some girls who write their feelings in a notebook.
I was expecting too much, there’s only a number written at the back of her notebook. Besides that, nothing else. She doesn’t like to write down her feelings on a notebook and is this her number?
This is the only writing she have besides the lectures that she have taken down. Maybe she’s not the type of girl who loves to write. I saw her sketch pad. Why would she bring something like this? I mean, it’s not bad.
I took the sketch pad and turn every pages. She doesn’t love writing, she loves sketching. Every page was filled with black inked sketches.
A girl standing on the streets all alone
Eyes covered with tears
The sun setting
A girl gazing at the moon, alone
A girl crying alone in the ally way
A hand holding a broken heart
And lastly a girl trapped in darkness.
Her sketches were good and definitely amazing. The thing is, why is that everything that she sketched about was depressing?
I closed the sketch book and put all her things back to her bag and lie down the couch. I stared at the white ceiling of the apartment and closed my eyes.
--
Kate
I won’t lie. I had fun last night and I don’t intend to hide it. It’s just that, I don’t want to get involved anymore. I don’t want my heart to be drag into it. I don’t want to fell in love.
I just realized a while ago how I was happy and how I kept that I’m starting to like him. I don’t want to like him and I don’t want to fall in love with him.
They said that if you like someone, you’ll definitely fall in love. I don’t want my heart to be crushed into tiny little pieces. I don’t want it to happen to me again.
I should distance myself while I still have the time and when the feelings are still too small.
I’ll just forget about what happened last night and forget that we ever meet for the first place. I’ll ignore him and pretend that I know him.
I won’t let my feelings to fall any deeper because if it did, I think I won’t be able to see myself anymore. If I ever did fall in love with him, I knew that I’ll just get my heart broken.
I know he won’t understand but what I’m doing now is right and I know for sure, this is the best for me and for him too.
He should go back to what he was before, him being a playboy. Flirt any other girls in the campus and pretend that I don’t exist.
I take a cab all the way home. I lean my head against the window of the car. I stare at the tall buildings that we passed by. I just want to get my mind off things.
As I enter the house, it was silent. “I’m home.” I speak out loud.
I didn’t heard my mother speak. Maybe she’s asleep. I climb the staircase and check her out of the room.
She was on the bed, eyes are covered and she was hugging a pillow.
Whenever she’s at home, it’s either she’ll sleep or go on to her laptop and review some work shits.
I sighed and walked my way towards my room. I’ll just do my homework and watch random movies the whole day.
Come to think of it, where is my bag?
I sat down on my bed and finally realized that I left it at Dylan’s apartment. If I only checked to see if I have some things on his apartment. I was thinking of many things that I forgot my bag.
How will I suppose to get my bag now? I can’t just meet him after I told him that this is the last time we’ll get to see each other again.
What did I ever do wrong with my life? This is so hard and complicated. I don’t know how to face him and I need to get my bag because I still have some homework unfinished and I don’t intend to abandon my sketches. I love them and I can’t afford to lose them.
Should I lower my pride and beg him to give me my bag? No, that’s too much. I should just apologize and tell him that I have to get my bag or,
I heard my phone rang, I fished it out of my pocket and check to see who it was. It was from an unknown number.
It’s a message saying,
“You forget to bring your bag with you. I’ll just drop it off in the afternoon. Dylan.”
I was a bit startled and it’s not the fact that my bag problems has been solved but the fact that he has my number? How did he have my number?
Why will he have my number from the first place?
Enough about conclusions and shit, I have to clear my thoughts and think straight.
It’s 9 o’ clock in the morning and I haven’t ate my breakfast yet. I don’t feel like eating. I wanted to take a nap and removed everything that’s inside my head.
-
Dylan
I got out of my car and stare at the mansion that was in front of me. It’s our house. Never knew how big it was until I stared and stand in front of it.
“Son! Welcome home!” My mom approached me with her big hug.
“Hi mom.” I hugged her back.
She held my arm and take me inside the house.
The décor of the mansion never change. It was still the same when I left them. Marble floor, white ceiling, red curtains, royal blue carpet covered on the staircase and our family picture posted in the center. It was painted by an artist. It was my mother’s friend.
“Where’s dad?” I followed my mother. She was on her way to the dining room. I haven’t ate my breakfast yet and I wanted to eat already.
“He gone off early.” She smiled, “Let’s eat.”
The food were already placed on the long table and as usual even though we’re the only ones who will be eating, there are still plenty of food.
I sat down across the seat where my mom is sitted. We usually pray for blessing before eating. After praying, we ate.
“Dylan, dear?” she wiped her mouth with the used of the table napkin that’s placed on her lap.
“Yes?” I was finished eating and ready to roam around the house, not until my mother called my attention.
“When am I going to meet your girlfriend?” The question that she launched upon me was very surprising that made me want to chocked out.
“Come again?” I drank the glass of water that was placed beside my plate and divert my eyes somewhere. Avoiding my mother’s stare and sincere question.
“When will I be meeting your girlfriend?” She said it again.
I exhaled and smiled at her for a minute. She was waiting for my answer, she was serious about it.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I said.
I dated some of the girls in our school but I was never serious. I have some girlfriends back then that I wasn’t serious of. Why did that happened from the first place? Why am I not that committed to a relationship?
It’s because I had a girlfriend before I even be entitled as a so called playboy. I was serious about her and loved her. I gave it my all and I was ready to tell my parents about her, but then. Everything had to end. It’s because it turns out, she has another guy besides me. She was just using me for all the stuffs that she wanted. She used me and never did loved me.
I felt my heart ache, I can’t get up. I was angry in the same time, hurt. I felt as if, there will never be a girl who will love me for being me. That’s why I decided to change and not to be serious about relationships that won’t take me anywhere but hurting myself.
Austin and Ryan knows about it, they are the only ones whom I told about my past.
My mother’s face was unpredictable. As if she was confused and in the same time, anxious. She drank the glass of mango juice beside her,
“I thought you already have one. With that face of yours, I’m sure you already had or at least have one.”
She called out the maids and told them to clean up.
She didn’t pursue or made our conversation longer.
“Let’s go somewhere dear, where do you want to go?” she change the topic.
I stand up, “Anywhere is fine.”
My past is all buried now and I’m serious of not having any committed relationships. I’m happy being the way I am now. No one can blame me, no one can tell me what am I supposed to do or change who I am now. No one can blame a person who was once hurt and decided to change because that person believed that love is some kind of pathetic word.
Love is some kind of pathetic word.