Author's note: Here's the next chapter of my new pet story. (The first was Thieves of Dawn) So for all the people getting irritated by Heart's stubbornness, there may be a hint of a reason scattered in here somewhere, ideally near the end. Also, there's a little philosophy involved this time around, so if you're not a fan of that, I'm sorry, but it's going to be limited to only a few chapters, and aren't that big a deal.
Linda: Glad to hear you like the story.
RogueRaven21: No problem.
BooMiEtAng / sweetsorrow: Hey, I like getting to know people too. Want to chat sometime? (Or something to that extent?)
Melina: You think Mark's sweet? Yay. The truth is, this story, or something almost like it, happened to my girlfriend one time (she didn't have a virus, just a big problem) and I kind of put in what Mark does/think as what I did/thought back then. (I'm a big flirt aren't I?)
Frenchy: Your powers once again shrivel me up a wall my dear. You win a spiked hammock.
Spiked Kurrow: Thanks.
Chapter 4: "Every Swirl"
"Why don't I just tell them? No…no…God I'm so stubborn. Why am I so afraid? Mark's right…this isn't my fault…is it? What if it was because of that night? It all started then…maybe…if it was…then they never should know. It probably did…well if it did then it's his fault! No! No it isn't! Don't blame Mark…don't!" Heart had her hand under Mark's as they sat on the bench in utter silence. People say that there's a point in a couple's relationship that even the most silent moment would be cherished, just as long as you have that person's hand with your own. They reached that level long ago, but now, with the stress that they carried, both of them are now finding a hard time to adjust to the silence.
"…Does spaghetti still sound good?" Mark asked her, wishing to break the veil between them.
"…Yeah…yeah…" Heart responded whilst nodding, still looking in the distance.
"…" Without replying, Mark stood up, his hand still holding hers, and gently helped her up. It killed him inside to see his girlfriend like this. To him, the term really didn't do any justice. She was something more, a reason to breathe, his reason to live.
"Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for understanding."
"…"
Jill hadn't even changed her clothes from earlier that day. She knew it in her gut, something was definitely going on with her daughter. At least right now, she was certain that it wasn't her studies, since school would only start a few months from then. She was seated on the couch, in the massive room where there was a sweeping view of the lake.
"What's going on, here?" she thought to herself. "Maybe it's just a phase. All teenagers go through it." Jill was a perfectionist. She analyzed the situation, calculated the risks, and threw every challenge that came up to her overboard. This was a situation she couldn't get rid of with a big gun. "I hope she's not pregnant, because if she is, I am going on a killing spree."
She pushed back her hair and pushed away the shoulder of her bathrobe, revealing the scarred skin by her collarbone. Jill traced a finger along the sewn skin, remembering the horrors that befell them more than a decade ago. Yes, she was a good person, a good mother, a role model. But scars like what she had taught her that there is always something to hide from. She was the protector, a very, very zealous one.
"You look dead serious over there." Greeted Chris as he walked to the couch. "Something the matter?"
"Just thinking about what Heart told me a little earlier."
"…You know, she's just a kid. She's got her insecurities."
"…I know. It's just that…"
"You're getting insecure now?"
"Jackpot."
"…"
"I can't help but think that…I don't know, I push her into a hole."
"No you don't."
"…"
"Just talk to her. It's okay, you know?"
"…Maybe I should. I just have no clue as to what to say."
"Talk about videogames."
"No chance in hell."
"Come on Jill…"
"Well, what do I say? It's not like I know anything about those games that she play."
"…"
"What is it…SIMS?"
"At least you got the title."
"She did keep on begging."
"Oh yeah.
"You owe me fifty dollars."
"…Do you want me to talk to her?"
"…It's me she feels detached from, we both know that."
"…She doesn't feel that way."
"Yes, she does. She never doubted what you feel for her. She knows that you'd do anything to protect her. She doesn't feel the same way about me. She thinks…I'm some slave driver."
"…Maybe you're acting like you are, and you just don't realize it."
"Do you realize it?"
"I see a woman who cares for her child with her whole heart."
"…So you do."
"…"
The afternoon sun was beginning to sink, painting the sky with pink and orange streaks. By that time, mechanically crafted will o' wisps, called nanotechs, lit up the area, flying around like real organisms would. It was something Heart loved, even though she knew that it wasn't entirely real; and Mark knew that. She always wanted to be there when nightfall came, and he always brought her. He held her hand, never letting it go as much as he could. She felt that something horribly wrong was about to go on, and he felt it as well. She knew the reason why, and he had never thought of it.
"What if I'm to blame, and I just don't know it?" he asked himself silently as they walked the serene park. "No way. I never did anything to Heart." Mark took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm going to betray her. But what is it that she's hiding? There has got to be something more than she's letting me onto. I can't believe she could be this stubborn." He thought as he turned to look at her. She turned to face him as well, and she simply smiled at him. Mark loved seeing her smile.
"He's going to tell them. I know it." Heart convinced herself as they walked, trying her best not to let Mark into what it was she was thinking. "…Things always have a way of working out, don't they? Maybe you're my answer." She held his hand tighter. "What if I can't stop this? Mom and dad are sure to figure things out; anyway…maybe…Mark is the one who is going to tell them. I did everything I can to hide it…and it's out of my power if Mark decides to tell them, then they'd have to solve this. No. No, I can't let them…know." A sudden, sharp intake of breath disrupted the girl's jumbled thoughts.
"Heart!" Mark cried, as the girl collapsed to her side, where he was thankfully able to catch her. A few passersby stopped and looked, then resumed their way but seconds later. "Heart, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked her as he lifted her up. She looked dazed, but it was like she was regaining composure as she slowly pushed herself away from Mark, so to stand on her two feet.
"What happened?" he asked, probably more frantic than she was.
It was different this time. As if all of a sudden, her strength just got siphoned out of her, usurped into some black hole in her system. At the very least, she didn't feel as much pain as she did before. "I'm okay." She replied, still catching her breath. "Heart…we can't go on like this."
"…We?"
"Heart…"
"Listen Mark, I don't want you going of into some litany that we should tell mom and dad again, okay?" she snapped, practically ignorant of the fact that she just collapsed. "I might lose you if I tell them…" she thought inwardly, behind the strong façade.
"But Heart, this is getting too difficult for just the both of us to handle." He rebutted, half-yelling and half-whispering at the same time.
"Well, I never asked you to help me, did I?" She snapped, inadvertently letting her frustration get the better of her once again.
"…" Mark stepped away silently.
"Oh God, what did I just say?" Heart panicked inwardly, speechless as she saw the clear hurt etched in Mark's face. "Alright, fine." Mark replied bitterly, turning around and walking away. Heat called for him to come back, and he wanted to. Even at that moment, he knew that he couldn't stay mad. He just couldn't bear the fact that never in his life has he been appreciated by the people around him.
Moonlight already peered down the park, which shone with the brightest lights to offer a reply. Even the ground was rigged with a soft light, as if there was something bright shining underneath the marble. Heart found herself sitting down, in front of a central fountain that shone with every color a rainbow had. All their lives, neither on of them has ever fought with each other before.
She only just realized how much her mistakes piled on and onto mark, until finally he would just get sick of it all. "…If everything is because of that night, then this must be for the better. He won't be there when they find out, and they wouldn't have to blame him. Now's the only time I can tell them." She thought, as she ignored that sporadic feeling of utter discomfort coming from her chest. That night was the only real reason that she could think of. She knew that her metabolism was weak, and that any form of drug could easily get the better of her. She just wished now that she kept that in mind that wild night she spent with Mark, where both of them were subjected to their own weaknesses.
Jill couldn't keep her mind on the book that she was now reading. Her husband told her that books could help alleviate stress, but at that time, it really didn't seem to work. Besides, the book she read wasn't really giving her any positive insight in life, especially since it's about Skinner's theory in the non-existence of freedom. She never thought her husband could collect so many books, some of which were gifts from the people that he saved from certain life-threatening problems. He should just be happy that she never encountered a copy of Kama Sutra.
"There is no such thing as freedom. Why so? This is because all our actions are determined by negative and positive reinforcements that dictate our next move. For example, if you walk down the hall and see somebody familiar. You wave him hello, and for some reason, he punches you in reply, then heads off cursing the sky, will say hi to him again the next time you meet? That is a negative reinforcement that hinders action. On the other hand, if you meet somebody special who genuinely likes being complemented, will you not do it again the next time you and that person meet, especially if he or she reciprocates the feeling? That is a positive reinforcement."
"So why do we perceive that we are free? What makes us believe in the idea that we can do whatever it is we want? This is simply being content. For example, if we live in a just and humane society, where no rights are ever violated, one would think that there, you would be free from social ills, and thus conform to the notion of liberty. But aren't they still ruled by a governing body? Are there not laws that tell you to be devoid of any social ills? If so, then is there really freedom? No. The people are just content, thus they will not revolt, and call for freedom, which is just a call for their rights to be heard."
Jill closed the book and threw it down the couch. "That just made me feel good about life…" she thought sarcastically as she got up and stretched, now dressed in a blue top and a black blouse. She paced the room, with the fire cackling at the opposite end of where she was. The thought of humanity lacking any sort of freedom because tickled her mind, but it wasn't enough for her to leave the subject of her daughter. "It's almost seven, where could that girl be?" she thought, her concern once again drilling against her consciousness. As usual, the girl's cellular phone was unattended, much to her mother's chagrin. "What's the point of her begging for a phone if she always keeps it turned off?" she thought angrily as she continued to pace. All of a sudden, the phone rang, cutting Jill off from her train of thought. After about three rings, she finally made it to the phone.
"Hello?"
"Jill!"
"…Rebecca?"
"Yes, something happened." Panic was evident in the doctor's voice.
"Something, what? Slow down…" Jill coaxed, getting worried at her friend's grave demeanor.
"Heart got into an accident." Rebecca replied after a moment of silence. At that moment, time stopped, and every swirl flew around Jill's being.
Author's note: What? The chapter's finished? Seriously uncool. Don't worry, the philosophy is there for some little reason in the whole story, just a point in the many confusing ones there are. I hope you like this chapter, the next one's pretty soon, promise. So until next time. And you all can call me Karl if you like. Oh, and Frenchy, still waiting for your fanfics!