This was going to have a poem I made in it, but I decided to use a real-life song...
Chapter 6: Underlying Problems
To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that prisoner was you.
"Why, sis? Why didn't you think to tell me?"
Margo was upset, not angry. And the business between me and the VC was over; the evidence has cleared my name, and I am now the internal story teller. That didn't make up for breaking Margo's heart, though.
"Because it felt cruel," I say. "And Dad wanted you to... die again happy."
"Is it not cruel to not tell me? Edith, sister, was it really you who found me?"
"Yes," I say absently. "You were over there." I point at the entrance to the kitchen. "You had been dead for two hours when I found you. And I swear to this day you said 'I love you' when I was crying over your body." I am starting to get emotional. That day has caused lasting scars on me. "I am also the one who invented the potion to help you live. But now I hear voices."
"So do I."
"Must be a side-effect. Mine tell me I am a murderer, but one always says 'Beautiful Area In Liberty' or something like that."
She raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment on that. Instead, she decides to talk about the incident more, "They say to trust nobody. So it wasn't a dream, then? Mr Bob did come after us."
"Yeah. You were a good fighter. We all were, but he had too many men. And we didn't want to risk anyone's lives. And, well... I activated the emergency protocol without anyone's consent." I draw an imaginary in the air control panel with my finger. "Protocol 115X."
I get up from the alligator sofa and walk towards our room. Margo reaches out to stop me, but I say over my shoulder, "I'm getting something sis. I wont be a minute." I continue to walk, and I hear Agnes enter the room. I quicken my pace; she is with Dad on the matter of Margo finding out. And Dad is angry.
I hope my gift will make up for it.
I crawl underneath my bomb bed – I had Dad make a new one out of a larger missile for my 13 birthday to last me forever – and turn on my torch. Years of undernourishment as kids has caused all of us to be smaller and thinner than we should be. The light coming from my watch was shone back in my eyes by my gift.
It was a small film I had made for Margo for helping me for all of these years. Encased in a silver metallic, bullet-proof case, the film is completely dedicated to me and her. Agnes had made on for me and Margo, and I have given Agnes hers.
Actually, I didn't make the whole thing myself. Her boyfriend and now husband – Lee – helped. Margo is lucky to have someone. My relationships don't work.
Focus! Wait... I don't care now. I have to admit it. I fail at love. Anyway, I don't mind Lee. He is like me in some ways, but like Margo in most. And they met through danger, only strengthening their bond.
I wonder why I haven't given Margo her clip yet. Well, she'll get it now.
I walk back in, and take off my beanie. No one has seen it off in years. Dad – who is now comforting Margo, looks at me with full-on surprise – whilst my sisters just look mildly surprised. When I did that, I told them it could mean two things: one is that I am leaving forever, the other meaning that what I am about to do is important and comes from my heart.
I walk up to Margo and carefully place the case next on her lap. "Open it on Tuesday," I say. Tuesday is three days away. "And then phone the number at the end of the clip. Oh, tell Lee about it. In fact, go to him and open it together."
And with that – no room for thank you or goodbye or what? – I leave the house.
I get into my Nissan. Why don't I buy a better car? Sure, the GTR is good, but that new Pagani Hyendhfjd looks good.
The night-time lights around me are soothing. All the blur as I drive at 100MPH down the road, as if I was racing, reminds me of the carefree days. I miss them, but I wouldn't trade now for anything. Actually, I would, because my family doesn't really trust me. My life has been one hell of a ride, and a massive battle... lightbulb! I have an idea!
I am going to tell my kids – and I will find someone, no doubt, or I'll adopt, because I have been an orphan and they all deserve better – all about this. And, just to help me remember, I'm going to document it somewhere special and private. It might help with emotional release, too.
My Private Journal, Tuesday
Well then... the big day for Margo. Opening day. And a big day for me; I have a journal now.
That gift better had please her. I used my brain for once. And... maybe she'd hate me less. I didn't even get my hat back; if she hates the gift, then I never wear that one again. I'll go ask that homeless girl if I can buy hers for $100 if Margo doesn't like it.
And yes, I mean it.
I have a copy myself – just in case – and I watched it. I cried, I'll admit it. And the part Lee created... I wish I could sing this to someone:
The city's beautiful,
in the early morning air,
love the smell of sunrise,
and everything becomes so clear.
I wish that time would stand still,
if this was a part of a film,
we would watch the clip all day,
like a portrait of you and I,
like a portrait of you and I.
The city's beautiful,
feeling it in the early morning air,
love the smell of sunrise,
everything becomes so clear.
I think you are beautiful,
and you know it by one look,
did you long for summertime
when you were growing up?
Damn, I am jealous of Margo, ain't I?
We'll all find out tomorrow whether my life gets better or worse.
Wednesday
"Did you like it, sis?" I ask.
Margo stares at me, as if struggling to say something. We are standing outside Lee's house, which is on the outskirts of town. A nice green front yard greets people, but right now it makes me feel ill. I swear, if she doesn't like it...
"Well, I-I like Lee's part," she says, stuttering, "I'm sorry... I am. I can't forgive you. So-so I can't feel happy. But I know that if I was happy I'd love-love it."
I look down, knowing I'll be wearing a dirty, grey, ugly beanie from now on, "Yeah, I understand." I walk away from the driveway and back to my car.
What the heck can I do now? I hate myself, Margo doesn't trust me, Agnes and Dad think I am weak under pressure now. And I'm scared of being lonely. I don't know which is worse. I'm dangerous now. I'll probably hurt anyone who crosses me the wrong way. I drive home, singing...
I think you are beautiful,
and you know it by one look,
did you long for summertime
when you were growing up?
Interest in that song? It is called Just One Second by London Elektricity, and I prefer the Apex remix. I heard about it on Gran Turismo 5, and I loved it! Give it a listen!