The joint was Morrie's way of prying my real life story out of me. It was not very strong, though, as I did not immediately feel its effects, and all it initially did was calm my nerves. We sat together in our apartment, passing the joint to and fro as he made me talk about myself. I had told him I am Abiel Graham-Lecter, and that Bedelia Du Maurier, my godmother, brought me to the United States in the pretense of providing for my education when she really meant to break me. Morrie, who had read all about my parents, was very receptive of all I said.
"Everyone around Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter shares an unpleasant history with them." Morrie had pointed out. "They probably knew people would seek revenge on them through you and that is why they sent you out of their world."
"It figures," I had replied.
"But Abiel, think about it. Dr. Du Maurier has been a parent to you all these years. It could also damage you if you do kill her." Morrie said pensively.
I wrapped my head around the thought. It was easy to do so with the help of the pot. "I guess so," was all I could say.
Drowse took over me after that, and I had complained to Morrie about it.
To which, he replied, "It's okay, take a nap for now." He said, he took the blanket from my room and spread it over me as I lay on the couch. "Things will be better when you wake up."
Aside from the weed taking effect, I was also too emotionally and mentally exhausted to do otherwise. Before closing my eyes, I watched Morrie take out his phone and dial a number.
"Hello," He said, pressing the mobile phone to his ear. "Mom, would you know..." His voice drifted off as I closed my eyes.
I woke up more than an hour later. The apartment was empty save for the lingering smell of cannabis. Morrie had gone, but his laptop and papers were still on the table, hence I was certain he would be back shortly. I sat there for a while, thinking of the things that had happened that morning.
The fractures on my façade have drastically increased in one single day, and pieces of it have fallen off to reveal what I had kept from breaking out. Yet I was kept from totally crumbling down by human company which is something that I do not usually savor. Morrie had helped, as always, and I knew I had to thank him for making me talk things out.
I waited for him to show up, but thirty minutes had passed and Morrie had not yet returned. I tried to think of where he could have gone. If he went out to get something, he should be back by now considering that there was a convenience store was right below our flat. I began to worry. I ransacked my mind of any clue as to where Morrie went. Suddenly, I remembered the call he made.
"Hello," I remembered him say. "Mom, would you know Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier's address?" Pause. "Um, for my dissertation." Footsteps and scribbling on paper. "Got it. Thanks, Mom, you're the best." Pause. "Bye, Mom, I love you."
That was Morrie's end of the phone conversation with his mom. I was half asleep while I was hearing that. I partly wondered how his mother would know, but I decided to take action and go to my godmother's house in case Morrie had indeed gone there.
I rushed out of the flat and onto the street. There was not a cab to be seen. I was getting impatient from waiting and did what first came to mind. For the first time in my life, I dialed my father's mobile number and called it.
"Hello," Will Graham's voice said upon answering.
"Dad," I replied. "Dad, I need your help."
"Abiel?" He asked with surprise in his tone. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you have a car with you?" I asked hurriedly.
"Yeah."
"Good. Please pick me up in front of our apartment building. I'll explain on the way."
He hung up. A few minutes later, a car had pulled up to where I stood. The driver rolled down his window to reveal Will Graham himself. "Get in."
I rushed to the passenger seat. My bum had barely touched the seat when he handed me a pair of glasses.
"You left this in the diner." My father said.
I looked at the pair of tinted glasses for a few seconds and thought of how I have been using it to hide myself. "Nah, I don't really need them," I replied. They were no use in the first place.
Dad smirked and placed the glasses on the dashboard. "So what's going on?" He asked as he began to drive away.
"It's my roommate." I replied. "He sat me down and talked to me when I arrived from the diner. I told him everything and I fell asleep afterwards. When I woke up, he was gone, and I think he went to Dr. Du Maurier's house."
My father sighed. "And who's this boy that you dragged into all of these?" He asked in a chastising tone.
"Morrie," I replied. "We've been roommates since we were freshmen. He's really kind but a little radical. We go to the same campus too, and he's majoring in Psychology. Aside from that, I must admit I know little of him."
Dad furrowed his brows. "Are you talking about the boy named Morrie with long black hair, who's almost always smiling and who looks like a hippie?" He asked.
"Yes!" I said excitedly. "How do you know him?"
My father shook his head. "He interviewed me for his dissertation last week."
"What?!" I exclaimed in disbelief. "How come?" Was all I could say amidst my confusion, having heard from my adviser that my father has been avoiding contact with anybody who wants him as part of their study.
He exhaled sharply. "Abiel, do you even know Morrie's full name?"
I felt my heart sink into my gut. I was too embarrassed that I did not even know my roommate's full name especially after his attempt to help me. "No." I replied weakly.
"His name is Mordred Verger, Abiel." My father replied. "Biological son of Mason Verger and Alana Bloom, though Alana and Margot raised him as their own."
I gaped at my father for a long while, waiting for him to say that he was just joking—but he did not. I pressed my head against the car window, and blankly watched the view run past us outside. For years, I have been living with someone whose history was tied with my own and I did not even realize it. I have been wallowing in my own self-pity all this time that I had failed to take in the bigger picture.
"Morrie seems like a good lad, but I think he's pushing himself to deviate from his father's image." Dad said, noticing my silence.
"There are wrong deeds that I want to undo." I recalled Morrie saying. Those deeds were not his own, it seems, but his father's. He must have been running away from Mason Verger's shadow all his life.
We were the same after all, but Morrie was succeeding where I was failing.
Author's Note:
I re-read this story from the start and spotted several inconsistencies concerning my usage of the English language. I am using MS Word for my drafts, and the language setting I use there is my country's English. Most of the time, I edit them once I've uploaded them here ('-ou-'s to '-o-'s for example, as in from 'savour' to 'savor'), but I tend to overlook some of these discrepancies. However, I do not mean to edit those now, as that would surely be a tedious business. Please do understand why this is so as English is already my third language.
To the guest reviewer, Guren, I can totally see how you were suspicious of Morrie.
PS: LOL ANOTHER PLOT TWIST!
PPS: The climax is just around the corner, so leave a review/fav/follow!