Ever since that encounter he was never able to forget about that girl. Melissa Beige 03. Every single night he would hear her screams echo in his entire room. He would cover his ears, but there wasn't much difference whether he'd cover his ears or not. He'd still hear the same ear piercing screams.
Jake was grilled by his father's questions after they had returned from their trip, but Jake was unresponsive. He was never able to tell his father the truth in the end. He was as silent as the grave that day. Even 'til now, he didn't dare tell him, for fear of his father's icy hell. What would become of him if he were to ever find out about what had happened on that day.
Jake was sitting on his bed, breathing heavily and sweat poured out of him as if he ran a marathon.
He licked his lips.
In this situation, it was a natural occurrence for him. He'd been doing this for 5 years straight after all.
Jake remembered that It was harder to cope during the first month back home compared to what he was experiencing now. Back then he wasn't able to sleep a wink at all. The screams had really tortured him, following him wherever he went. And before long, his father thought that he'd gone deaf and dumb, since the screams blocked out any outside noise and he was too afraid to speak during that time. Mr. Tiago had scheduled psychiatry sessions for him.
During the 2nd month, he spoke, but only of the things he needed, and he spoke as quietly as a mouse can scurry. He still wasn't able to hear very well, and thus mostly relied on sign language. The psychiatrist taught him this.
On the 3rd month, he began to open up his voice more almost talking like his normal self again. Almost. However, he wouldn't speak unless spoken to.
It was quite taxing on his mental state, repeatedly being driven into that certain situation without anyone to relate it to, or even finding someone who care enough to listen to his predicament, Jake didn't think his psychiatrist would care and would just smile and nod after every session, after that she'd give him pills. Whether they were working or just giving him a placebo effect he did not know.
Jake sat on his bed and looked around his surroundings.
Darkness.
All Jake could see was darkness, except for a faint light protruding from his blue curtained window, rather, a glass door that leads to a small balcony. He went over and opened the curtain hiding the door. Bright light illuminated his face making him squint a little to be able to adjust to the brightness.
Beyond the glass door he could see the waves lapping onto the shore. They lived close to the beach, it was what Jake's mom wanted. Jake could faintly hear the crashing of the waves amidst the screams of the helpless girl stuck in his mind. Beyond the horizon Jake could faintly see the outline of the islands near Hawaii. As he looked up he saw the ever softly glowing satellite called moon, along with a billion stars scattered around the sky. It was a magnificent sight to behold. He could see its contours perfectly from where he stood. He could draw that moon on a piece of paper, along with its details and contours perfectly, he had memorized it after all. It was the only thing that gave him comfort. It slightly eases his mental fatigue just by looking at its radiance. He had been doing this every day, for 5 years since that encounter.
The years went by like a snail running on a track of tape. It was on this day, rather night, that he had met this girl.
November 14th 2018.
That was the exact date that they met. If it were under different circumstances I'm sure she would be one of her friends already. But they weren't. He could still vividly recall that encounter, though he'd rather much forget about it. He also wanted to forget how unheroic he was at the time. He wasn't batman or Superman, heck he wasn't even a "man" at the time. He was a 5 year-old boy! Jake wondered, why does he keep justifying his actions? Why is it that every time this trauma in his head pops up (which was always), he would always try to instinctively defend his actions? As if there was some imaginary being telling him that what he did was wrong, thus turning his mind into a debate. Debating with himself, against himself, and for himself.
Maybe, deep inside, he knew, it was wrong to abandon her. He felt guilty for what he had done. He only saved his own skin. But it was also the right thing to do. But-- but--but--
In the end he could never make up his mind. The debate would always end in a stalemate, and what's worse, if it would end in a stalemate then, chances are, he would debate on the same topic again and again and again, until he would reach mental exhaustion.
Jake was now 10 years old, and he knew he had to overcome this trauma. He opened the glass door and stepped outside, only to be greeted by the harsh freezing cold that the night brought along with it.
Jake wondered if the girl was still alive. If somehow he would be able to meet with her again, the first thing he would do was say sorry. Then he'd say I'm glad you're alive.
He'd rehearse that moment in his mind everyday. He'd run up to her and hug her then he'd tell her all the things that bothered him and if she agrees, they could probably end up as friends after!
Jake's green eyes swept across the sea, then he locked onto something. He wasn't sure but there was something on the water, and it was moving at a very fast pace. It felt like a jetski's movements, but it wasn't a jetski. It looked like a yacht but yachts don't move that fast. Most puzzling of all was that, the seacraft was black, making it very hard for Jake to identify the boat.
Jake vigorously shook his head. His black hair shook along with it. The next thing he saw then was, an undisturbed ocean. He thought he was probably just seeing things due to his trauma. He looked for it just to make sure, but the search came up empty.
I must really be going crazy. Jake thought.
Tomorrow it will be his first time attending a school, and an academy at that note. He was feeling emotions which didn't involve fear or guilt. It was the feeling of excitement, wonder, and nervousness.
I don't want other kids to think that I'm some kind of mentally challenged person. Jake thought. He wasn't a kid anymore, at least, not in his eyes. He was going to have to go to school sooner or later, he just ended up with "sooner". During those 5 years he was homeschooled so this will be Jake's first ever "real" confrontation with other kids beside himself.
Jake walked back inside his room. He closed the the glass door, and covered it with the blue curtain.
He walked back to the comfort of his bed, still followed by those daunting screams, and for the first time, in a long 5 years, slept.