Chapter 6.
It's just like in China; people are talking in hushed voices about me and how I am a mess. Maybe I made the mistake, you know, along with all the others. Yeah, it was a mistake.
"Is that a bad thing?" Redfield asks in an odd tone.
"I don't know, but Claire wishes you would visit her some time." Sherry changes the subject effectively, and now that I think about it, Redfield never talks about his sister.
"Sherry, you should know better than –"
"But isn't it a bit hypocritical? I'm not allowed to avoid Jake, but you're allowed to avoid your own sister?" Allowed? Why is it so hard? I've heard enough, and I don't believe that the longer I wait will change her mind. As I walk out of the lobby into the hallway, I can hear Redfield hesitate for an answer, but he probably has his reasons. Sherry would probably be the same way if I asked her why she was avoiding me. Why is it so hard for me? I could – well, no – I should because that always calms me down. I swing my leg over the seat of my bike, and my skin is already anticipating the feeling of the resistant wind. The sun is rising, and the lack of sleep has me wired.
With a bouquet of flowers in hand, I walk across the field covered in stone slabs. "Ha, remember when you would scold me for wasting my money on pointless things to make our apartment look like less of an eyesore? Well, this is my treat to you; it's been a long time, hasn't it, Mom?" I stop in front of a small grave which is labeled as the resting place of Anita Muller. I lean down and sit; my feet are flat on the ground which is a lot harder than I remember. But I'm probably taller now. "It's probably been years, and I think you'd be disappointed that I turned down forty-nine million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred fifty dollars. I'm such an idiot, but I miss you. A lot. Maybe I should have started being a merc earlier; I would have been bringing in the money sooner. And you would be alive because we'd be able to afford dumb shit like flowers." My eyes have that same burn that they did five years ago in this same field. "I guess that I'm still a little kid, crying for his mom." My elbows rest on my knees, and my arms cross. I rest my head on my arms. I'm not exhausted because I'm tired. I'm exhausted from all these people; I'm the equivalent of a human transit station. No one stays; they're always coming and going. Why is it so hard for people to stick around for a bit? A hand brushes my back, and instinctively, my gun is out, safety off, finger taunting the trigger, and aim on the target, Sherry. My finger flips the safety back, and I drop the gun to the ground.
"Chris said you might be here." She whispers which is kind of unnecessary since we're not in danger and no one's around.
"Redfield? I haven't been here in years though." It's true and kind of creepy that Redfield knew that I would be here.
"So, your mother, her name was Anita? That's pretty."
"Apparently, Wesker thought the same thing." The sarcasm just slips out of my mouth.
"Why is it so hard for you to look at your father as more than a disappointment?"
"'And please, don't hate your father. I'm sure he loves you and is thinking about you, and I know you two will find each other someday. Stay strong.' I'm pretty sure, Sir Psycho didn't give half a damn about me or my mom."
"You memorized that?"
"Yeah, my mom tried so hard to tell me that my dad was the greatest person ever, but that just made it harder to believe. If she had to waste so much time to justify him, then clearly, he wasn't all that great before he left us."
"I get it; I finally understand you."
–vi–
"Come with me to America." I do not quite remember what evoked this statement from my mouth. Anita stares at me as if she won the lottery. It is that good kind of shock. She laughs lightly. 'Albert, I honestly cannot tell when you are kidding sometimes.' It is hard to see sometimes, but now, it is painfully evident that she and I live in completely different worlds. "I am dead serious." Her eyes look at me, and there lies a fear of change underneath her exterior. 'But how? It's easier said than done.' She reminds me of Elizabeth, and I –
Of course, she reminds you of Elizabeth so just bring her to America and dress her up like Elizabeth and change her name, too.
'I can't leave. If I go with you, who is to say that we won't just have sex, and you'll want me gone? I can't risk that.' She sits on the bed. 'Besides, you love someone else; I can see it in your eyes.' She falls silent and stares at her hands in her lap, and I find myself walking over to her. "Sex? I would never leave you." 'Says the man who I met a few days ago.' My hand tilts her head up, and our lips meet. "It does not matter how long that we have known each other but how long we spend together." She pulls me on top of her. 'Prove it. Prove to me that it won't just be one time and back to Edonia.' "Anything for you."
My mom never mentioned America, aside from saying that she wanted to visit at least once in her lifetime, but who's to say that she enjoyed America. Perhaps that's why she left it out.
I think that I may truly love her.
Yet, he left her anyway.
–vi–
"Really?" My eyes are bearing holes in her head.
"Sort of." Sherry fiddles with her fingers. "When my parents died, Claire was there, and then I met Chris. You had your mother and that was it."
"I got used to it."
"But you shouldn't have to get used to it, Jake; we're all human. We are made to feel, and you shouldn't have to bite the bullet while other people get to enjoy life carelessly."
"I don't know what you're talking about; I'm just fine and dandy."
"Jake."
"Don't worry about me, super girl. Worry about you're buddy, Redfield. He's a bit weird."
"Jake."
"And I don't harbor hatred towards my dad; I just harbor pity towards my mom, the one who waited until she died."
"Jake."
"Yes?"
"You can't solve your problems by building walls and pretending you're fine."
"What problems? I've got a great job, fifty bucks, and a motorcycle."
"I worry about you."
"Well, don't."
A/N: Once again, thank you very much for the support.
~FromPrussiaWithLove