Chapter 12
Melissa
Reading Helena’s text made me feel some type of way.
She was asking if we could hang out next weekend. I felt the whole urge
to type no thank you but I stopped myself.
It would be so obvious that something is wrong and Helena is smart as hell. She has always been the smarter friend, right from freshman year.
She did a lot of risky things too, but never got caught because she was always smarter than whoever she was playing the game on.
I knew all her tricks, every single thing she did, and how went about them to make sure there was no catch.
Thinking of that made me feel nothing but dumb. How on earth did I know her this much and still end up getting played? 1 knew the game but I never knew the player could play a game on me.
The presumption that I would never have caught them and would have possibly been oblivion, made my stomach squeeze. Ian was the reason I found out. He parked his car in front of a motel that was close to the coffee shop I was working.
He also forgot to lock his phone when he was having a sex chat. All these from Ian’s slip and nothing would have ever made me suspect Helena
There was betrayal, anger, and even disdain shooting through me but in all of these, I tried to think of her.
How did she end up sleeping with my boyfriend? who made the first move and did they talk about me whenever they were going to have sex and enjoy their moment together!
I wish they didn’t. That would hurt that even a reminder of me was incapable of stopping them.
I shrugged, just wanting to ameliorate myself of the stress that I was still wrestling with.
The lights on the train car flickered and I took a moment to take note of my environment. I glanced around, looking at the empty seats in the train, and realized we had reduced greatly in number.
I was so engrossed in listening to the music playing from my headphones that I didn’t notice how many people had gotten off the train since I stepped on.
It was about four people left, including me and I exhaled before turning.
A young man, an elderly woman with tousled grey hair, and her granddaughter. She was about five years old with a broken front tooth and a cute smile. I watched her ask her grandma numerous questions in a split second and turned to look at the rest passengers.
We all seemed to be going in the same direction, Old Town which is a neighborhood located on the East shore of New York City.
From here on out, luxury isn’t a word anyone recognizes. They were either as poor as me or trying to restrain from spending too much.
Traveling by train to Old Town wasn’t bad but it still wasn’t the best option. The only airport there would have still had me driving back because it was 24 miles away from the old town stadon.
I sighed when the realization hit me. Even if using a flight would have been a lot more convenient, I needed to save. Grandma’s cognition enhancement medications were still my priority even though she wasn’t improving much
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Chapter 12
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I tried to focus back on the rhythm and melody of the music I was listening to but it already died down. Just a second thinking of my grandma’s condition had me lost..
I took off the headphones from my ear and just then, a c***y mouthpiece blared through the speakers announcing my
slop
Speak of the right timing.
1 quickly reached for my brown bag and clutched it on my arm, close enough to keep it safe, and stood up.
I took a step forward and then held the pole in the middle. I was waiting patiently for the creaking sound of train brakes echoing to at least reduce.
I waited for the little girl to hold her grandma’s hands and climb out. She looked so innocent and that was such a beautiful thing to see.
The moment I climbed out, I let out an exhalation. It’s been months since I was here last. I had too bad an experience to want to return here.
After my mom’s death, Grandma suffered dementia and with each passing day, she lost the ability to even remember the person she saw a few hours ago, calling for a d***n explanation all the time.
hands.
There were no more memories, she only remembered her daughter- my mom who she watched die in her
The trauma must have hit so deeply that all she could do was hold onto that memory despite her declining condition.
I looked east the way to the home I lived in for nineteen years. I walked toward the street and my skin crawled as I saw the signpost of Old Town.
As I made my way into the street, everything came rushing back. So strong that with each thought, I swallowed hard to keep the lump away.
–
Deciding to see my grandma was an abrupt decision I made because I realized the people who helped me escape my reality were no longer there and the one person I had was her,
Unwavering despite the circumstances surrounding our relationship and how I dared to move out to figure out a life for myself as an orphan.
The town reminded me of so much and none of those memories were good enough to keep me coming. I hated everything about the place. The run-down apartments with the dried-out terraces and chunks of weeds,
I remember taking this same route whenever I was going to the writing agency. I’d always wear a big hoodie due to how chilly the weather is in Old Town and how I am prone to cold.
The only thing that made the Town worth remembering aside Grandina’s pancakes. Taking them to the agency meant a good day. Eating your favorite+ doing your favorite thing.
I lied to Marcus about not having a manuscript or article. Of course, I had a bunch of them but they were just pain-filled sentences and wild fantasies that I wrote whenever I was h**ny.
Sometimes, I’d read them while touching myself and laugh in the middle of everything because of how unrealistic those writings were.
There was no ay I was going to show my boss that. He did have to see the things I could write when I was h***y.
have to know this depressed Melissa and he sure as hell didn’t
As funny as it may have sounded, I was the one who sexualized him after our meeting, and then on one other days 1 felt hormones shooting up, I wrote a fantasy.
my
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A fantasy of Marcus Hills f***ng me right on his office table. Something about how wild and unreachable it looked made it
When I approached the building I used to live in, a lump formed in my throat.
“Grandma?” I called as I stood in front of the door. The door was rotting due to lack of maintenance, but a turn to the other houses made it feel typical
The apartment next to ours was dilapidated as well, about to meet its final extinction by rain and rot.
I knocked gently on the door but no one answered and except for the slight rustling of the compound leaves that almost covered the entire house, there was nothing.
I tried the door again, using my hands to turn the rusty k***b.
It finally flung open and I let out a content sigh. I walked inside still waiting for evidence of life. Just her voice, a footstep- anything at all.
The silence terrified me as I waited for voices. I walked inside the apartment and looked at the side.
Everything still looked like it used to be. The rickety brown couch with ripped-out foam underlay, the swirling stool by the table, and the wall where I used to put words of affirmation.
I was suddenly nostalgic, but I brushed off the feeling immediately.
I turned to the familiar hallway and even though darkness illuminated the place, I used my hands to figure out my way. I wondered why there wasn’t at least a bulb but that wasn’t the major thing- maybe I had to fix minor issues before leaving.
I walked carefully, using my hands to navigate through darkness until I made my way to the door. Grandma’s door.
I pushed the door open, hoping she’d be sitting there, quietly weaving her crochet or just sewing a new skirt like she always did because she never had enough money to get me new clothes
All these things I hoped for but when I pushed the door open, it wasn’t the case.
She was on the bed, quiet like I expected but not doing anything.
She wasn’t even moving
“No,” I muttered. “No no no.”
