A/N: Technically this story is supposed to be done by New Years but I guess not! Thank you again to those who read (and review or not)! Thanks again for those who favorite it too ;)
I do apologize if this chapter sounds a bit sketchy. I couldn't focus. I still hope you like it… ish? ^^;
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Tala is adopted into a loving home, starting a new life but he had to his friends behind. It's not quite often blessings come in disguises but in this case, it's more than a blessing; it's a gift.
Chapter 7: 11:59 PM
It didn't come to my surprise when I received a phone call one day; the time had come. On that misty morning, I went down into the living room with both hands in my pockets and mind fixed. Upon arrival, I locked eyes with Ian.
"What are you doing here?"
"Spencer's flight is at midnight,"
I nodded, walking to the warmth of the crackling fireplace. Rubbing my arms together, it felt weird. My mind went round and round, thinking of Ian's words: Spencer's flight is at midnight. I'm glad he finally was going to have a family; it was something he always wished for. How did I know? Every time when we were on tour, at the corner of my eye I noticed Spencer's attention was instantly fixated on a family. I assumed within his mind, he pictured himself there, as a child in the arms of his loving parents. He may not admit it but it's written clearly on his face. He wanted a family and now, his wish came true.
"Do you know where he's going?" I asked with my back turned, eyes locked on the dancing flames.
"London, England." The sound of Ian standing up forced me to slightly turn around watching him walk around the room, examining the large portraits on the wall. Moving to the Murin portrait he said, "It's something he always wanted."
It's something every child wants…
"Mr. Dickenson told me this family has power and influence in England. He said the family has ties back to those who guard the Tower of London. Pretty cool, right?"
"…Yeah."
The next twenty minutes, Ian told me more about this new family; this family indeed has strong connections with the Tower of London which now in the present was a tourist destination. The father was the CEO of a big company while his wife, as rumor went was extremely beautiful. Ian couldn't describe her appearances but he mentioned her beauty almost equaled that of the Jordanian princess. The couple had no children of their own. Spencer would probably like that, being the only child.
"Hey Ian,"
"Hm?"
"What time are we going to send him off?"
"Well, he's going to be at the airport around nine o'clock for check in. We should arrive there before he does."
When the time did arrive, I couldn't stop twiddling my thumbs! Curse my fiddling! I snapped out of my thoughts when the cab came to a screeching halt. Damn pedestrians! I sighed, rubbing my temples. There was probably a dent there by now due to my worrying. Leaning against the window, we were a long way from the airport. My mind began to wonder…
I couldn't take my eyes off the new recruit. His presence was felt the instant he entered the room; the other kids quickly shuffled out of the room in single file while others continued their meal. Every so often they glanced over their shoulder at the new kid wondering what he might do. The tall boy walked to the farthest table in the room, sitting with authority. A loud thud echoed from his side sending vibrations around. If he thought for one minute he was going to be the dominant one here, he thought wrong. I ruled this place.
I pushed away from the metallic table storming to him, "What's your name?" I demanded.
"…"
"What are you, deaf? You have a name don't you or if I'm mistaken you have a, 'Hello, my name is Stupid' sticker stuck on your forehead?"
"…Spencer."
"Ah, you speak and here I thought you were mute too." I narrowed my eyes. Although he couldn't see my expression because his back was turned but he knew I meant business. "Get this straight: you are to follow my every command, do you understand?"
"…Yes."
"If that got through your thick skull then my business here is done," I stormed away. I paused for a second, turning my head. "Do not get in my way."
Many things happened to us over the years but we shared something in common; we minded our own business. Spencer avoided me and so did I. As mindless drones, we did everything Boris told us to do… even when it was minus out he'd force us to train until we were at the brink of death. Even so, we did it. We trained, trained, trained. I thought he was a mindless drone but then I realized; there was something more to him.
Walking into the men's washroom one day, I spotted Spencer leaning by the sink as if he was hypnotized by the clear liquid spinning in the sink, round and round. He lifted his hands, palms faced up, eyes scanning the fractured lines on his palm. Moving his hands closer to his face, his lips moved. Just like that, his voice exploded out of his throat.
"I didn't do it!" Spencer's voice shook. "I swear!"
He didn't do what? I watched his expression in the mirror; his eyes were wide and glazed over. He was in a trance. He continued to mumble something along the lines of 'didn't do it'. With my curiosity piqued, I inched closer. Spencer snapped his head to the soap dispensing machine. As if possessed, he slammed his fist onto it. Soap exploded out landing onto the counter, into the sink and into his hands.
No matter how many times he rubbed his palms together, whatever was on remained. No matter how many times he rinsed, it wasn't good enough. I watched his body shake, consumed by fear. Spencer slammed his fists against the counter.
"No, I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I didn't mean to! You've got to believe me!"
He hastily reached under the counter for a bleach bottle. He quickly uncapped it, poured the foul smelling liquid into his palms.
I stood there staring at him trying desperately to get rid of something on his palms. Maybe it was about time I intervened.
I emerged from the corner, walking to him, "What are you doing?"
He stopped. Spencer shook his head, blinking a couple of times realizing where he was and what he was doing. Without a word, he gathered the remaining soap into his hands, he washed them again, this time properly, rinsed and walked right by me. My head followed him as he walked out the door.
"What was that all about?"
I opened my eyes. I realized we were in the middle of traffic, inching like snails. I quickly glanced over to my wristwatch; it was already fifteen minutes past nine!
"Hey!" I leaned forward to the cab driver. "How much longer until we reach the airport?"
My response? He shrugged. Dammit! I quickly rolled down the windows which instead dumped snow into my lap. I stuck my head outside. My eyes grew large when I saw smoke at the end of the highway.
"Brilliant," I mumbled returning my head back into the safety of the cab. Of all times to have an accident it's now!
My situation did not improve when my driver who apparently was obsessed with American pop music cranked the volume to ear bleeding levels. Here I sat at the back of the cab grouchy, annoyed, pissed off—you name it.
"Screw this!"
I couldn't stand this anymore! The music, the bad singing, the awful attempts of dancing in the driver's seat and the traffic! Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out my wallet, grabbed some cash and stuffed it to the cab driver. This was one of my most insane ideas but I rather freeze my ass off in the blizzard than listening to his awful, out of tune singing to whoever Kesha was.
So was this one of my best ideas? No. I walked down the highway with Spencer's gift close to my chest, shielding it from the storm. Taking another step forward, I heard a loud crunch sound.
The hell?
Apparently while in deep thought, I walked right into the bushes. A strong gush of wind stopped me momentarily. My teeth were chattering nonstop, my ears were half frozen, my nose no longer existed and why the hell am I walking in this godforsaken blizzard storm? Well never mind that, at least I'm on the move. I hope I could make it in time to see Spencer off…
The long arm of the clock struck eleven o'clock. I finally made it to the airport pass traffic. It took me two, two bloody hours walking on the highway! God, I truly was insane. Any normal person would just sit in their car and wait. Now was not the time to catch my breath! Dusting snow off my shoulder and Spencer's gift, I quickly made my way to terminal number twenty five. My legs screamed at me to stop, even for a moment but I refused. There was no time, I reminded myself. If I didn't see Spencer off, I couldn't forgive myself. I ran and ran, racing against the clock. While I ran, I unfortunately ran into a security guard.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he asked me. I noticed his eyes locked onto the package I had in my hands.
"I need to get to terminal twenty five," I responded quickly, catching my breath.
He eyed me suspiciously and the package but didn't continue interrogating me. "Terminal twenty five is on the other side of the airport. Right now you're in terminal twenty six to fifty."
You're kidding me, right? I stared at him hoping I just heard wrong. I ran all this way for nothing?
In times like this, I wished I read the terminal signs. Now what was I supposed to do? It was now eleven fifteen. I knew I had to quickly rush but my legs were sore as hell. Every muscle in my body burned. Rubbing my temples, I frowned until a question struck me.
"Is it possible to delay the flight?"
"What?"
Lifting the package up I said, "See here? I need to get this to my friend before he leaves!"
He security guard shook his head, "Sorry kid, can't do that."
The moment the security guard turned his back, I bolted to the nearest information desk. Without thinking, I leaned over, snatching the microphone.
"SPENCER!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "STAY PUT! DON'T YOU DARE GET ON THAT PLANE!"
"HEY KID, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Time to bolt! I dashed from the information center through the sea of people, luggage, food and coffee. I didn't care! I needed to get this to him! From behind, I heard the sound of the screaming security guard demanding me to stop. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
With every exhaled breath, my lungs felt like they were set on fire. The heat coursed through my lungs, exiting my mouth. I stopped for a breather and to my luck, it was terminal twenty five. I quickly glanced at my wristwatch; I still had time! My eyes glanced up and there, by the large glass panels was Spencer. His arms were crossed with his back turned to me.
"You're late,"
Indeed I was. Quickly looking over my shoulder, the pesky security guard was nowhere to be seen. I could only conclude he either gave up or called for reinforcements. Shaking my head, I hoped it wasn't the latter. Either way, here I was, ready to send my friend off, wishing him the best.
"I'm sorry for being late," I began. I felt like I was giving excuses justifying why I was late in the first place when I was supposed to be here hours ago. "Accident on the highway."
Silence. Just like Spencer to not reply. I could understand if he was annoyed by my tardiness. Earlier today I promised Ian would come here early…
"Where's Ian?"
"He left an hour ago,"
"Oh…"
With the clock ticking by every second, my attempts to converse proved futile; every time words hung at the edge of my lips, they instantly rolled back into my throat. I was never good at goodbyes in the first place. There was an unmistakable silence between us; the sounds around us faded.
Time seemed to have stopped until—
"Final call for passengers travelling to London, England. I repeat: Final call for passengers travelling to London, England."
Spencer turned around meeting me eye to eye. His hand moved into his shirt pocket pulling out an envelope.
"Here," he handed it to me.
"What is this?"
"Something that you should know,"
I nodded. Placing the crème envelop into my jacket, I turned my attention to the gift in my hands. My arms stretched out to Spencer giving him the gift.
"And this is?"
"Gifts from my family to you. As for me... I don't know what to say."
The sound of another announcement startled me; I never realized I stared at the orange carpet for at least five minutes thinking of things to say. I quickly looked up and Spencer stood in front of me with luggage by his side. He stuck out his hand and I returned the hand shake.
Shaking my head, I forced on a smile for him, "It's not goodbye,"
Spencer nodded. "Indeed. We will meet again… friend."
At eleven fifty-nine PM, I watched Spencer walk through the glass doors disappearing out of sight. I walked to the leather couch pulling out the envelope. Carefully ripping the side off, I discarded the small strip of paper to the side, pulling out its contents. Unfolding it, I carefully read what Spencer wrote:
For all the things I've done in the past, this was one I didn't commit.
One day at the orphanage I saw a little boy sitting in a bloodied heap, coughing, gasping for air. I remembered each graphic detail; the boy suffered severe cuts to his arms and legs while his neck had purple bruises on it. Looking at him, I thought he was going to die right before my eyes. Red liquid trickled from his lips, staining his clothes and onto the floorboards. I went to help the child but I wasn't sure what to do; instead of propping him up against the wall, I laid him down forcing him to drown in his own blood.
That day, my hands were stained red. All fingers pointed to me, accusing me of killing the child. I was accused of murder. I tried to justify my innocence; I was condemned over and over. I was innocent!
Shunned into the snow, I stained it red with guilt.
This is my story. This is something that will live with me for the rest of my life; through smiles, laughter, tears and anger… it'll never go away. But… with a new life waiting for me, I wish to forget all my miseries and for once in my life, I can enjoy the small things in life without guilt.
This will be my new reality.