Wishing, Hating, Promising

- "It's the people we love the most that can make us feel the gladdest... and the maddest! Love and anger are such a puzzle!" -

~ Fred Rogers

The navy sky signaled that the flurry of late night city life activities was winding in. Workers of the evening would begin getting dressed at that time, the number of people at the bars would soon begin to heighten and grocery workers would beg the clock to chime 10 or 12am any time soon as they remained inside their shells in attempts to conserve any bit of energy they had left. Swift but careful feet strutted up the staircase the moment Emma came home. Luckily, the others weren't practically home then, except Nana, and fortunately and unfortunately, Berty snoring off the medication, like wind rattling through tin, that put him on board the Dreamland bus made her feel relieved as she dropped her suitcase at the foot of the the study room doorway and rushed to a set of drawers in search of chalk.

The study room was like another bedroom, a room she'd spend hours and hours of her life in. It witnessed her life from all angles, from growth, being an amateur, wailing to laughing. Several papers being torn asunder, chalk dying and emptying dust as it did so and the wagtail threatening to attack if any mistake was dared to be made all happened in that room. Meticulous fingers carefully rummaged through the contents of the drawers in the large mahogany desk which stood almost far center of the antique-like room. When she finally found herself some chalk, with staggered breaths, she fetched a stool and hurried to the large blackboard and began running her hands everywhere, writing endless tiny writings of mathematical calculations many person's her age would never understand.

"Good sweet Jesus of Nazareth, have mercy!" came the sweet voice of Nanna suddenly from the hallway just outside the study room.

She was holding her heart like there was no tomorrow while still wearing a smile on that wrinkled face of hers.

"I had the feeling you came home Emmie when I heard the front door close but I didn't think that you'd be in here when I passed by," she chuckled and gazed upon the busy child.

Not taking her eyes off the board even once, she muttered, "I know. I was busy. Sorry about that."

Nanna smiled gracefully and advancing towards the girl, she asked, "What's all this? I know you'd really like to have that scholarship but don't you think you should rest?"

Emma averted her gaze to the old woman with a mundane expression and solemn eyes.

Nanna smiled and reached up to pat her cheek. "Oh how I love those gray eyes of yours, Emmie. They tell of so many stories. So many."

Emma gazed into Nanna's soul and slowly climbed down from the stool. As she bit down on her lower lip in shame, her fingers began to wobble. "It hurts... Nanna... it hurts-" she whimpered, "...worse than pins and needles."

The elderly woman's eyes crinkled as she chuckled heartily. "You silly girl! Did you go running around with the wrong leg again?"

"Fast too," Emma replied, looking up at Nanna's smiling eyes and pouting.

"You silly child! You know so much better."

"Agreed, Nana. Silly indeed."

She brought the girl in an embrace and had a great laugh again before scooping the chalk from between her white powdered fingers and putting it away. Then, looping an arm around Nanna's waist, the two left the study room to go have the stump treated, leaving the calculations of all kinds to look after the room on its own.

Later that evening, Emma sank deeper into the mattress and threw the covers over her head. Her mind was in a turmoil and her heart was racing. There were so many things she wished she had done differently that day but the question was: 'Why didn't she?' She gazed at the phone in her hands and then at the lightly pink stump from the darkness under the covers. Nanna had treated it not too long over half an hour ago and it was already feeling so much better. She was contented but why did she still feel so weird about it? She had asked Nanna to use her cellphone again and had to be more careful than she was in the past. She couldn't allow the past to repeat itself.

"Hey! It's me again," she whispered with a hint of joy in her voice.

"Hello me again. When did you get a new surname like that?" a jolly voice returned.

Emma eyed the phone and rolled her eyes. "That joke's so corny, Rooney," she mumbled.

"Couldn't waste the opportunity now, could I?"

Emma smiled. "It's good to hear from you again as much as you're annoying."

"It's what besties are for! Now tell me. What happened this time?"

The ceiling was staring back at her just as hard as she proceed to give a run down of the afternoon with Liam. She stared at the screen as though he had been right there with her.

"Ah, it's in good times like these that I am not there! Whyyy?!!"Rooney beamed.

"I know you'd say something like that but truly, he is weird and immature. It's like he goes about doing things on impulse, without thinking! You know how important that competition is. I can't afford to lose any more time. I can't wait until this deal is over," she whisper-shouted.

Although they could only talk for no more than an hour max before the guard appeared and reiterated his command, once the call was over, she felt tension inside her disperse and melt away. Now, it was just her and the darkness, her and the math textbook, her and the calculator. The air in the room was still and it was quiet as though the ghosts had all gone on vacation.

"Just say no, idiot," a thought lurking around in her conscience mumbled.

"Why can't you be a little lenient for a change? Only a little. If anything, never have mercy again!" said another.

Emma tossed and turned under the covers and tried her best to mute the provoking thoughts. Usually around that time, she'd be sitting at her desk until the twilight left the moon or until she was out cold with the pencil stuck between her fingers, moving on its own but tonight was different. After Liam had told her about the promise he made his little brother, she couldn't help but feel a spike of anger. Sure, she was a heartless introvert that never made time for anyone whom she didn't care for unless she had some benefit to get out of it but why did it make her feel envious in a sort of way? Why did it make her feel like wrapping her fingers around his throat and squeezing until the oxygen could no longer get to his precious lungs? Then she shuffled under the covers to stare at the other side of the room. The woman on the night stand was still sitting there staring, like she would everyday.

Her mind was usually blank with only one main thought in mind: You have to win. Ever since Liam showed up in the picture, however, she had been irritable with other thoughts lurking here and there. What do I show him next? How do I get this hard-headed lad to understand this? Why is he so weird? She never regretted so much that day being so easily influenced by the strange boy and reprimanded herself that she was not to go beyond the deal they made. Then, she sat up. She couldn't sleep while her head was full of questions. Why would a stranger want to see her and on top of that, talk to her? She had nothing to do with Liam's business and didn't care to. However, she thought, he pleaded so much like he believed that she'd just agree. It was almost as if his little brother imagined her as some celebrity. She had enough of the thoughts and decided to leap out of bed, hopping on her one leg all the way to her desk and grabbing a pencil. She needed to calculate something.

_______________________________

Liam sat on the wooden bench and lost in a daydream, was startled when the sharp joyful voice struck him.

"Where are weeeee?!"

Derek, strapped in his power wheelchair beside him, was getting worse gradually. The most he was grateful about, however, was that the kid could still speak and sound slightly normal. With lack of access to medication like before and his lack of exercising since the quarrel he had with his mom, his muscles were further deteriorating and his motility decreased. Even to get him out of the house for a bit was difficult. His recent development of heart and breathing issues made Jenna refuse to let him out of the house at all cost. It was a lot to fish permission out of her. Tis why the poor lad had over 3 layers of masks on. If he was going to die anyways, sooner or later, why not allow him to just live life to the fullest?

Liam smiled bitterly and took the masks off the over-excited child.

"I haven't seen the sky this long before! Look at 'em birds! Gorgeous!"

Liam laughed and gazed at them too. It was hard to listen to Derek without wanting to swear at life for being so cruel sometimes. He knew that he risked and was risking a lot. Both their lives, Derek's health and the reduced likeliness of Emma trusting him but he figured that the most he could have done was to fulfill the promise he had made before Derek left the house: "I promise I'll let ya talk with a girl sometime."

"You still didn't... tell me the surprise," he struggled to say.

"Hey, take it easy, would ya? Have patience. We must get going."

He led him to the secret field of peonies that he had shown Emma just the other day. Would she show up, he wondered. From what he knew about her from the times he stayed in her company, while she might have been savage enough to leave a kitten to cross a busy street, there were some parts of her that still seemed to care. Doubt lurked about his mind, however, as she had completely ignored him during school that day, staying as far away from him as she could. That's what made it funny though, he thought to himself. Of all the girls he could possibly ask to see his brother, he asked the one that disliked him the most. It was slightly embarrassing the more he thought about it.

Suddenly, the sweet smell of jasmine filled the air and cautiously cupping Derek's shoulders, he looked behind him and his lips parted. Was he dreaming? He rubbed his eyes twice just to make sure. A few steps away from him stood the girl with jet black hair way past her shoulders and a new prosthetic leg he had never seen her wear before, one that looked like that of a sickle.

"Something smells nice," Derek chimed.

Liam smiled and stooped at his level, "That's your surprise, dude."

"Where!! I don't see it?"

"Turn around."

Slowly, Derek turned around and the moment he did, his eyes lit up, his heart began to race and unable to move around much at all, he just remained speechless and in a daze while looking between both Emma and Liam.

"Damnnn..." Derek stammered shyly. "What the heck! Is- is that the girl?? Is that the mean zombie girl with the leg you talk about???"

Liam didn't wish to jump off a cliff so badly as he did then.

"That... that ain't no zombie girl- That's a hottie!!"