Chapter 2 – The Tipping Point
ooc: Hufflepufficus - Thankyou so much for your support! I hope you like it, I am in the middle of the next chapter already, hoping it will be up by the weekend =D)
My eyes flick open. The sturdy boy is still not next to me. I sigh, before pushing myself up, off the blue sheets which encase me, shielding me with its 'security'. My feet touch the ground and they shiver for a moment, the floorboards are cold, barren and lacking in vivacity. The morning air has departed, and has now turned into a denser afternoon pressure. My feet carry me to the other end of our small unit, where a lone window stands. It's transparency granting me the only look at time. Outside, the sky is a greyish black; rain will fall any moment now. Then I can succumb to its rhythmic tapping… The sun is hidden behind all clouds, preventing me any notice of how long time has lasted. Or how long is to go. I slide down against the wall, coming to a rest on the floor. One day you will be happy again…
(Past time)
I dry myself off, scolding myself for such bitter thoughts. I would have done it… I would have. The words I know are one-hundred percent truthful. I hang up the towel, with minimal effort before putting my clothes on. He has given me a white nightgown to wear. I slip it on and take a moment to admire the effect the gown has on me. It grants me an angelic yet ghostly charm. The top of the gown is laced with silver fabric, giving it the look of a spider web glistening in the sunlight. I smile, before hanging my clothes and leaving. The hall is empty and I'm not quite sure what I am meant to do. I feel out of place like snow in the summer.
"Cato?" I ask awkwardly.
"Downstairs Clove, it's dinner time" His mother responds. I walk down the stairs which I notice creak under each step, up the hall I go, each foot gaining more and more hesitance. I past the lounge room; taking a moment to look in at the black couches. I near the corner, which sets me apart from the others. I pause, vacillating for a moment. Do I step forward and pry into the lives of these kind people any more than I already have or do I turn back now? The delicious scents plead at my nose for entrance, beckoning me with every second that goes by. My stomach rumbles, also trying to push me into making the decision. Reluctantly I make the step forward, giving away my concealment from the others.
"Come join us Clove. We are having enchiladas" His mother says motioning me to come sit down next to Cato.
"Thank you" I get out before taking a few faltering steps. Cato pulls the chair out, next to him and pats the seat signalling for me to join him. I smile as I look into his eyes. Such concernment resting in his eyes. Under his gaze I feel protected. I feel secure. I feel… alive. Such a contrast to how I felt moments ago in the bath. I take a seat next to him. In front of me a plate containing a couple of enchiladas repose. When my eyes look up from them, they are greeted by a set of pale brown eyes. The eyes are complimented by the fair set of hair on his head. His features are smooth, and covered in youth.
"Clove, this is Acacius" The boy waves, with a shy smile apparent on his face. "And this is Eucario" His mother says as she signals to the smaller boy on the right of Acacius. He has a set of bright blue eyes and shining blonde hair. He is like the younger version of Cato… I look at him, then back to Cato. They are almost exact clones of one another if you look past the age difference. The only thing that sets the pair apart is that Eucario has a small birthmark on the right side of his neck. "Acacius is twelve and Eucario is six" Didn't Cato say his father died when he was three…
"Nice to meet you both" I say, smiling. Manners.
"I hope you like it, it's one of the boys' favourites" She says, smiling that kind-hearted smile that very few people can master. She's one of them.
"I'm sure I will it smells delicious" Manners. That must have been the signal for everyone to start eating because Acacius, Eucario and Cato all start, simultaneously. I resist the urge to just pick it up and inhale it. Instead I pick up the knife and fork by the side of my plate and start cutting slowly. Manners.
I bring the first forkful up to my mouth and let the taste tantalize my tongue. Closed mouth, I chew lightly, allowing the full flavour to take my tastebuds on a ride to places they have never been. I look over at Cato's mum to see her eyes on me as if she is analysing me. As if she is judging her decision to let me stay.
"This is delicious Ms Douglas" Manners. But that isn't a lie. The food is actually possibly the best thing I have ever tasted. The ends of her lips curve and instantaneously I know that I said the right thing.
"Thank you Clove" She says before bringing a mouthful of food up to her lips. I take her lead. "If there is anything you want you just let me know okay?" I nod my head, thankful for such kindness. "So how do you and Cato know each other?"
"We go to training school together" I answer.
"Ah of course. Are you two a couple?" Cato starts choking on his food.
"We're just friends mum"
"You're absolutely full of it Cato. It doesn't take a genius to see that you are both madly in love with one another. The way you look at Clove is like how your father used to look at me. Before everything…" She trails off. "And Clove, you do carry a better poker face. But not by much" She laughs winking at me. "Clove, since my own son probably won't tell me, could you tell me how long you have been a couple?"
"About one and a half months" I say, catching the sideways glare that Cato shoots me. Cato's two brothers make out 'oooh' sounds to tease Cato with.
"Shut up you two!" He grumbles. I look over to him and spot a tiny bit of blush which is apparent on his face.
"Cato!" She shouts, half furious, half playful. "You have had a girlfriend for over a month now and you haven't even invited her over for dinner?! What is wrong with you! It's manners!" There was that word again: Manners. "Well then I guess this is a special night for the pair of you" She finishes off her last mouthful before collecting the plates of everyone else.
"Right, Eucario, Acacius bed time" The two boys start to protest but are cut off. "Not a word. Bed. Now" The two boys get up reluctantly, muttering something about unfairness. "Cato, would you tuck them in for me please?" Cato nods before getting up and following the two boys around the corner. Ms Douglas has started to fill the sink with saponaceous bubbles. We are the only two left in the room. Manners. I get up and walk over to her.
"Where do you keep the tea towels?" I ask.
"There should be one on the stove" I turn around and walk over to the silver lined stove. On the handle rests a lone blue tea towel. I grab it, the fabric is soft and fluffy. Ms Douglas places a dripping plate into the black plastic rack by the side of the sink. Without hesitation I reach over and grab it, wiping it over with the blueness of the tea towel.
"Where do your plates go?" I ask.
"Over in that cupboard" She says, half-turning to point to the corner. I walk over and place the plate in on top of the other ones carefully. "Thank you Clove for helping"
"It's fine" I say as I grab the next plate to dry. "Thank you" She turns to look at me with a confused expression on her face.
"What for?"
"For everything like giving me a place to stay… I really appreciate your kindness and don't worry I will pay for rent" I didn't have a job, but that was going to change. Paying would be the least I could do for such kindness.
"No! You don't need to pay a cent! It's fine!" She says sounding almost shocked at such an obscure statement.
Bits of chatter pass throughout the time whilst we wash. I put away the last knife before turning around to smile at the lady who has made my day that much easier.
"Anything else that needs to be done?" I ask, hoping to show her that I will do my best to earn my keep.
"No that's everything dear" Dear. That is what my parents used to call me… tears start to form again and I push them back into my head. "Why don't you and Cato watch a movie?" And as if on cue Cato arrives. "The dishes are finished Cato. I was just telling Clove how you should both watch a movie" She says, her famous playful smile crawling onto her face.
"Sure. Sounds good. Come on Clove" He turns and heads back out the doorway. I glance at Ms Douglas and see her wink at me.
"Off you go. Shoo!" She motions with her hands to emphasise it. Without further hesitation I follow my blonde haired boy away from the kitchen and into the lounge room. He has already situated himself on one of the black couches already. This time it is he who pats the seat next to him, silently beckoning for me to sit next to him. If he willed it I would oblige. How could I say no to such benign eyes? The touch of the couch makes my body instantly relax, as if it was built with tenseness in mind. Cato, despite my protests, chucks on a comedy, declaring that it would 'lighten my mood' and 'preoccupy my mind with humour'. After the first ten minutes, his arm wraps around me and I do not fight the singularity of charm that I have come to love.
The movie is a remake of a 2006 movie, 'Click'. I'm rather glad it is a remake; I wouldn't want to sit through something with such horrible picture quality. Forty minutes through the movie and I have found myself laughing at every stupid little joke made. I remember my mother telling me once, before her death of course, that laughter was the best medicine. Back then I had just rolled my eyes at such fatuous words. Now I truly understand the meaning behind it. It works. It has my mind completely 'preoccupied with humour'. That's when Ms Douglas interrupts with the enticing scent off butter covered popcorn.
"Here you go" She says gently as she hands me a big bowl of mouth-watering popcorn.
"Thanks mum" Following Cato's lead I thank the lady and just like she appeared she is gone; phantom-like. I take a handful of popcorn, before averting my eyes back to the TV. The movie is peculiar, it draws you in for the humour but it reaches a tipping point, where the events are found to no longer be humorous, but instead an unexpected oppressiveness. If humour is the best medicine, then tragedy is the worst. I feel myself sinking back into the world of the dead. My laughter has long gone. It seems like whispers in the dark now. Left vulnerable by the sudden transition from humour to oppression I bury myself in the warmth and security of Cato, who doesn't seem to mind one little bit. After the movie, I pry myself from Cato, which is difficult for me to do. Not because he is clingy but because I was so content and satisfied in that position: hidden from the world inside his arms. It is strange to think that two months ago I would have never thought of such things. I had ranked boys somewhere between rocks and windows for distractions. I had noticed a lot of boys but never had I really took interest in them. I had thought relationships were for the weak that couldn't stand by themselves. Two months later I still feel the same. Never have I felt this weak before.
The boy gets up, pulling me with him and leads me up to the guest bedr-, sorry my bedroom. He stands in the doorway as he watches me crawl under the sheets. He then comes up to me and gently kisses my forehead like a father would to a daughter. The boy turns away.
"Goodnight Clove" Playing the role of child I ask him to stay.
"Stay… please" I know sleep will let the memories of today flood in, overwhelming me with their vividness and I fear that being alone tears will fall. He turns back to me, and sits on the end of my bed.
"Okay" Was his response. A simple one word. The effect that it had on me though, was anything but simple. My lips curved upwards.
"Can we talk?" I murmur, tired but apprehensive of sleep.
"Sure, what about?"
"Do you remember the first time we met?" Old memories clouding me like a fog…
It had been a summer day and I had just turned ten when I had convinced my parents to let me transfer to a prestigious training school. Of course, not all applicants were granted access, they only took the best. Previously, I had self-taught myself how to throw knives, trying to prove to my parents that I was serious about volunteering as a tribute. After they relented, they took me to audition, which was what I presumed, similar to how the game makers would rate each tribute with a training score. As I stood in a stadium-like room, before them I grabbed a pair of new shining throwing knives. My hands were trembling. This had been everything I was training for. Everything I had ever wanted.
"Show us what you can do" One of the people said, obviously sick of repeating the statement to every new hopeful…
I transferred a knife to my dominant hand and… fumbled. I had dropped the knife. The group of watchers snickered at such satire content. I picked it back up, cursing under my breath. Amidst the group was one blonde haired boy, who had managed to sneak in through the back. He rolled his eyes at me. That's when something had broken in me. I threw the knife, but not at the target that was set for me, but instead at the boy. The knife had hit the wall, he had been leaning against, between his neck and right shoulder.
"I thought there wasn't meant to be other children here?" I shouted, anger coursing my veins. I look back at the boy whose smug face had transformed into a frightened state of shock. This caused me to smile, at him.
"Cato, please welcome your newest peer…" The person had trailed off.
"Clove" I finished for him.
"Ahem, yes Clove"
That was the first time I had met Cato.
"Mm, sadly yes. You know you basically traumatized me" Cato says. I laugh.
"Well it served you right for being such a little brat" I snide, sleep still holding on tightly; its weary hold gaining.
"Says the one who threw a knife at my head…" By now Cato had slid in beside me under the covers.
"Yeah well you shouldn't have snuck in there…"
"Oh, so you throwing a knife at me is my fault?" He laughs.
"Yes. Everything is your fault" I joke.
"Well then I guess everything good is my fault as well" In the darkness I can see him poking his tongue out at me right now.
"No… that's not how it works. Everything bad is your fault and everything good is mine" I deride.
"Well then… what does that mean in our relationship?" His hand grips mine.
"It means that if you agree with everything I say, we will work out" I joke. My eyes are closed now.
"Right… let me just make a mental note of that" He remarks sarcastically.
Sometime throughout the night, we falls victims to the grasp of sleep. My night is free from all nightmares and cruelty. Wrapped inside of his arms seemingly give me the illusion of warmth and security… but for now, I am willing to take the illusion over the reality. It has given my heart a break from the torturous ensnares of anguish and despondency which had previously declared my heart, unopposed, under their rule. Well, Cato, this warrior of all things good and sanguine, has seen the demise of their treacherous reign. Such malignancy has no place in the inner core of one's soul. The battle is not over though; no it is far from over. In fact this is more of a tipping point than an actual obvious revolution. One day though I shall find absolution from the affliction. I don't know when, but something tells me as each day passes the struggle for freedom of all hurt will lessen. Only then will I know what it is like to be once again jocund.
(OOC: Hey thanks for reading guys! I hope you are enjoying it... please review guys! it give me my inspiration!)