When I finally arrived back at the dorm I made myself some rasberry tea and read through my lexiconon the couch. I wrote about all that had happened to me. Before I knew it,
he waled in.
"Hey." He sighed gently.
"Hi."
What was I going to say? 'Hey what's up?', 'Did you have fun?'. No, we barely spoke at all.
It was a short conversation. "Did you guys do anything interesting?"
"Nah. Just sat around, y'know."
"Oh, well I've been sitting here.. writting.. the usual."
"Cool. 'Bout what?"
"Oh, uhmm.. nothing really. Just journal entries."
"Ah, I see."
The mood in the room was cool, almost heavy.
And with that, we went to bed. _
The next morning we sat down and ate Demyx's delicious breakfast.
"Thanks for breakfast."
"Nah it's cool. I love cooking."
"Did anyone teach you? Like you mother?"
".....I don't remember my mom."
"Oh, then what about your da-"
"Can we talk about something else now?"
The mood had become tense. The room fell silent except for the gentle bubble of water on the stove.
"Oh..umm.. well remember those new flowers I wanted to record in my lexicon?"
"Yeah?"
"Well I forgot... silly me... heh.."
It was useless. Changing the subject couldn't even lighten the mood. I tried to cheer Demyx up, but it didn't work. "I'm sorry.."
"About what?"
"Mentioning your parents. It was sudden and I know how you feel about your family.."
"It's okay"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, if you want to know the story.. I'll go ahead and tell you."
And so he did; he told me all about his family.
"My mother was a kind woman. Or at least she was as far as I can remember.
As for my dad, well, he was terrible. He was demanding and always had my mother
under stress. In turn, she was pretty nasty when she was stressed. She was glad to be
home without him. My father never cared about us. He didn't care about out interests
one bit. When we did something he didn't like, he'd easily hit us. He'd do it with what ever
he could use. No one ever knew how bad it could be. Sometimes it was so terrible that I would
bleed and bruise. I still have scars up to this day. My mother was eventually driven crazy.
She'd throw silverware, plates, anc cups around like they were stuffed animals that could gently land
on the floor. Then, one day I found her lying on the floor when I returned from school.
I assumed she had just passed out, until I saw the blood. She had commited suicide.
After that, I was my dad's only target.
I couldn't stand it. That's when I heard of this school where I could study music.
If I hadn't run away to this school, I probably would have killed myself by now.
I haven't seen my dad for 3 years now. I bed he's forgotten all about me by now.
I guess I just wasn't meant to be loved."
I couldn't stand it any more. I would never have guessed someone like him had suffered so much.
"I don't know what you're talking about! How can it be true if I love you?"
"Y-you ..?"
I wrapped my arms around him and gently told him:
"Yes, I love you. I love you and I always will."