I reckoned my godmother would not be home for at least three hours. Which meant that I could bide my time polishing and preparing for what I was planning to do. I pictured different scenarios in my mind as I walked back to our apartment, but in the end, I would make it look like suicide. There was a hook on the ceiling of her living room; it can be used as a pulley for a rope with one end tied into a noose. I have a spare key to her house and I will wait for her inside. I will catch her off guard and wound the rope around her neck, and then I would pull at the other end of the rope to hang her. I will tie the rope elsewhere then, and take a chair from the dining room to place below her in such a way that it will look as if she kicked that chair as she hung from the ceiling. I know I lack my parents' creativity in this department, but it was better than risking being caught.
It took me a while to fit the key into the door of our apartment. My hands were shaking with both excitement and fury. It turns out, however, that I did not have to use the key. The door was unlocked anyway.
I opened the door cautiously. I was certain that I had locked it before leaving. I took out my pocket knife just in case there was a malevolent intruder and entered slowly.
"Oh, hey man!" Morrie greeted me from where he sat typing away on his laptop at the dining table.
"Morrie!" I gasped, bewildered. "What on earth are you doing here?"
Morrie shrugged. "I gotta do my dissertation, man. My adviser's been pestering me about it." He replied.
I huffed and walked towards my room. Morrie followed me with his gaze.
"Abiel," He said in a stern way that was uncharacteristic of him. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine." I replied, irritated.
"No you're not!" Morrie stood up and grabbed my arm to make me look at him directly. He looked into my eyes boldly, and I felt my blood run cold not with rage but with fear that he would see through me.
"Leave me be!" I yelled, snatching my arm from his grasp.
"No!" Morrie was persistent. He caught my wrist this time and squeezed it.
"Morrie!" I said in exasperation.
"You look like you're planning to do something you will absolutely regret." He said in a low and serious tone that I never heard him use before.
"What is it to you then?!" I asked as I tried to pry my hand from his grip. Morrie was stronger than me, though, and he gripped my wrist with uncanny determination.
"I'm not letting you do something that would harm you." He said in that same voice that was unsettling for me to hear.
"And why? What is it to you?" I asked, infuriated.
"Talk to me, Abiel." He said in a commanding way. "I want to help."
"The last person to tell me that she wished to help me is also the same person who broke me." I said through gritted teeth. "What makes you think I could trust you?"
Morrie loosened his grip on my wrist and I quickly withdrew my hand from him. "I have no intention to break you," he said as he took a cigarette from his pocket and tucked it between his lips. "I just really want to help."
"Why do you always want to help?" I asked. He bought Tony so Tristan would not be lonely; he brings the dogs to his family so we can both study before exams; he brings home groceries for the two of us and the dogs, insisting that he wants nothing in return. I never had the nerve to ask him why because I had always believed it was just his nature to do so. Seeing him in an indomitable mood, though, and hearing him speak in a different manner made me realize it was all just a farce. Morrie was not whom I initially thought him to be.
He pulled his lighter out of his pocket and lit the cigarette. "There are wrong deeds that I want to undo." He replied.
I watched him for a few seconds. At first I thought it was about the time in sophomore year when he unwittingly used my toothbrush to clean Tony's collar, or that one time he deliberately hid my shoe under his mattress just for the heck of it. I thought he was referring to all the little pranks he played on me and on others, but examining him this time was like seeing a clown without the costume and makeup. I saw the burden and bitterness behind the painted grin he always wore.
"Here," Morrie took the cigarette from his mouth and handed it to me. "Try to calm down for once." He said with a smile. "You're always agitated."
I took the cigarette and smoked it. I was too caught up in my emotions and realizations to actually notice that it was marijuana.
Author's Note:
I told you it would be more fun to do Morrie's POV. There will be more proof of this in the upcoming chapters.
Leave a review, fav or follow especially if you think Morrie is da ultimate bro.