I opened the front door of our home as I began to slowly take off my school bag and place it on the floor.
I went into the nearest wooden cupboard to retrieve a remote key used to open our garage door as to store my bike away.
The garage was on the lower floors of the house, and so I had also needed to take the remote key to open the white and small steel gate which led down a slope connecting to the underground floors of the house where the garage and my parents study room was.
I took off my shoes and climbed up one floor to the ground floor to get my bag.
As I had been quite thirsty and often don't take a water bottle with me to school— I grabbed a glass of water from a higher shelf in the kitchen, and filled it with water.
Filling up the glass a second time— I let out a refreshed sigh as I wiped my lips.
Taking my school bag I dragged it up the stairs and arrived at the highest floor of the house.
In total the house only had 3 floors— the underground, the ground floor, and the first floor.
The underground was used as a study for our parents, had the garage and had the laundry. The ground floor had the living room, dining table, breakfast bench and kitchen, pantry, guest toilet and media room. While as the top floor was known as the living quarters.
Emerging from the stairs, I placed my bag at my desk.
This area of the 'living quarters' was where Lynne and I would have our studies. There were 2 desks on the left side of the stairs where my desk and gaming— I mean office chair were placed. Lynne's setup was facing mine from an opposite angle— making the whole thing look like a shared office.
"No one's home?"
I was quite confused as it was almost 18:00 as I had taken my time on my bike from the train station.
At the manga store I had tied my bike onto a nearby bench as I didn't trust parking it near a parking lot as it might be prone to... suspicious glances...
Oh, well, anyways— benches were free real estate.
However, it was definitely peculiar for there no one to be at home at this hour.
Well... that wasn't true. It was quite normal for my parents to not be home before 18:30. What I had in mind however, was— Where was Lynne?
"Mmh... Lynne would usually be at home by now coming back from school. Besides, she shouldn't have anything going on after school as it's the last week of school." I thought out loud.
"Oh well, I shouldn't need to worry." I had trust that nothing bad will happen. Even though the thought of there something bad happening was there, it was suppressed by my outstandingly lazy and procrastinating nature as I back any worry I currently had to the back of my head.
I took off my clothes and hopped in the shower.
After a long shower, I stepped out of the bathroom and looked in a mirror in my room to reevaluate myself.
Not too tall at 5 feet and 8 inches, however I was taller than Olivia by only 3 inches.
Dim yet mysterious grey eyes— well... calling them mysterious is just giving myself a medal.
I had an oval and somewhat graceful *cough* medal *cough*— shaped face.
I was clear of acne and surprisingly clear of even the slight presence of facial hair— even that of under my nose. My body type was quite average as well.
I had somewhat distinct dark circles under my eyes, sometimes giving me a suspicious appearance. Though the circles under my eyes made me look quite suspicious, if I were to look into the mirror for longer— I'd realise something crucial.
Though normal to me, my neutral expression was blank and emotionless— in other words; I had a naturally suspicious face and attitude.
I would often reply blankly without an ounce of emotion as if I were just wasting time.
"Damn... is this why people look at me funny?"
I had completely jet black hair which reached my shoulders in a messy manner— on worst days I might even receive detentions for breaking uniform policies with my messy hair.
Fuck! Was I this irresponsible?!
I began to assess myself once more...
"Damn, why do I feel like scum? The thing is— most people, no matter what kind of person, should change. If someone was a useless person— most would try their best to change themselves, so no matter how much of a scum someone was they could change that— however, on the other hand, people who were useless and did nothing to change that fact and accepting that they are useless without even changing, are truly useless. So— even when I know this and think like this and in this direction; why do I not try and change?"
Throwing that question at the back of my mind, I began to throw a couple of punches in the air as I started shadowboxing.
Swoosh swoosh swoosh.
I threw multiple punches in the air as I 'trained'.
"Fuck!!!" An intense and sharp pain, one which felt like I was being stabbed and electrocuted in the neck by multiple sharp blades, had been felt by me on my neck after throwing that last punch.
The pain was extremely piercing, and I felt like crying. I had cursed out so loud that I'm sure if the neighbors were to purposefully pay attention, they'd definitely hear that cry of anguish.
"Damn, what the fuck was that?" I shifted my head downwards as to inspect my arm. The arm was fine— however, the mere action of moving my head downwards had had withdrawn a horrible backlash from my.
"Aaaaahhhhh!!!!" The feeling of suppression, pressure, pain and not being to move it anymore had struck my neck.
'What the fuck, man! I was just throwing hands in the air and I sprain my fucking neck?!" I tried venting out my anger through words, but it sooner resulted in failure.
I couldn't move my neck. Moving my neck felt like the striking of multiple thunderbolts on my neck.
...
" *Sniff* *Sniff*. Why me, man?!" I was currently leaning on the kitchen bench, trying to do so without moving my neck even the slightest as much as possible.
I had tried getting some ice from the freezer after learning that I was just going through muscle inflation in my neck after my muscles had spasmed. Furthermore, I was still worried that it was actually that my neck's disk-like joints had become stuck making me unable to move my neck in certain directions.
I had cursed a lot in the past 10 minutes even compared to how many times I curse a week.
The reason for me leaning however, was due to when I had opened the freezer for ice as to try and calm down the inflation on my muscles.
Bending down and squatting to reach for some ice in the freezer the same and horrible pain had assaulted me.
"Damn it damn it damn it!!! I can't even raise my arms above my neck?!" I raised my arm once more after the pain had completely gone to test my hypothesis.
"AAAHHHHH! Fuck!" I almost began to cry once more.
I was truly miserable right now.
...
...
...
"Oh? The neighborhood 'party' was today?" Using my left arm I poked at the now not-so-appealing-anymore broccoli which was sitting on my plate with a sad expression. My face was dark and seemed more depressed than usual even when my expression was neutral.
"Yeah, how did you miss it? At what time did you get home?" A middle-aged man sitting at the head of the table asked me. The man had blonde hair similar to that of Lynne sitting next to me. He had green eyes, metal framed glasses and an intelligent gaze. This middle-aged man was Paul, and he was my mother's new husband— my stepfather— and Lynne's father.
I unintentionally sighed sarcastically out of habit.
Paul didn't seem dissatisfied with my rudeness and even asked me gently. "Why the long face for?"
"Yeah, you should cheer up and smile more often." Lynne butted in as my mother nodded as if in agreement.
Damn, this is my neutral expression...
The combo of blows from having my neck turned into such a sorry state for myself and my own family talk about my looks in such a manner... I really felt like crying.
Was this karma? Had I been cursed by a secret entity? Tch! It feels like my luck had somehow worsened...
Though I had ruled out the possibility of luck— I had realised it truly must have been misfortune when I had discovered we were having leftovers tonight for dinner...
The family of 4— including myself— began to chat away as food passed through our mouths and into our stomachs.
10 minutes passed, 20 minutes, and now 30 minutes.
I got up from my seat as stiffly as I could as to not injure myself due to my neck.
45 minutes later— I returned to my seat as I had finished washing the dishes with my condition.
"Fuck, how was I supposed to wash those dishes without tilting my head down?" I grumbled under my breath quietly enough for no one to hear.
The scene of my washing the dishes was quite humorous if you were to look at me as an outsider. To get a lower view on the plates I had to slightly lower my body, it kind of looked like I was doing an 'ol kangaroo."
(Author's Note: In Australia, doing a kangaroo or pulling a kangaroo refers to taking a— I mean defecating while in a kangaroo stance. People might do this in public toilets to not touch the toilet seats as it might be too dirty lol. So just imagine him in a stance to as if he were trying to avoid a dirty toilet seat while also badly needing to poo hehe.)
They were still talking?
Having been cleaning the dishes for a while, surprisingly my sour mood had stabilized in some sort and I seemed to be less irritated.
"Jack, you know, you should have come to the party, it was only 2 hours long and didn't have a lot of people. Not only that, but surprisingly, everyone was talking about you and wondering where you were." Paul said.
"Yeah, Maurine was like 'Oh? Where's Jack? I always see him going so fast down the hill with his bike! What a good boy, he always seems so polite' and blah blah blah." Lynne added.
I internally sighed. This was the 4th time I've heard of these kinds of comments from the neighbors.
"And how was Jeff? Was he there as well and having a beer or something?" I asked about Maurine's husband. I asked about a closely related matter as to subconsciously continue the conversation as to not be dismissive.
My parents had once added that my dismissive and even sometimes aloof behavior was a rude and bad habit, so I continued the conversation to not act rude.
"Mmh? Jeff? Yeah, he was talking about the new model he was planning— saying he was finishing the blueprints after multiple months." Lynne answered for Paul.
Does she know this much about our neighbors? Well, I knew that Jeff was an engineer but that's all I know... Do they meet with the neighbors that often to know even minute information about their jobs? Or had I unintentionally been dismissive and unapproachable towards other?
I wasn't really approaching others because I thought I was superior or thought I was inferior. I practically know nothing about their lives, yet most people know more about me than I know about them.
This incident even happening at school.
I'd find myself walking around school and someone goes 'hey, Jack' I look at them for a moment going 'fuck, who the fuck are you? Shit I don't even know you. Wait I haven't even met you' then respond with something which will salvage the situation like 'hey man', or 'hey, bro'.
On the contrary, I'd say that Lynne's personality allowed her to have people approach her as if she were the most trustworthy person in the world.
Well, to be honest, I can't remember names for a long period of time unless I've spent at least 2 constant weeks being subtly reminded of your name, like during a roll call for example.
Damn, why do I sound like a bad human being?
"But that's quite good, Jack." Paul began.
Oh boy here we go again.
"It's good that you always act politely in front of the neighbors. Since we now own a local shop, we're now sort of public figures in our circles like the people in the Essendale suburb. It's good that everyone greets you, that you greet everyone with a smile."
"For example, the other day, Mike came in the shop with his wife, uhh... what was her name... ah yes, his wife Jane, and they talked about how you were riding your bike quite fast down the road in your sports uniform on your way to school."
My mood slightly wavered. Tch can't you speak of this with the trophy child? I didn't ask to be in the public eye of this region.
I subconsciously gazed at Lynne, but I quickly retracted my gaze.
To most people in this circle— I was a quiet and polite young man of this family. I don't really have much of a presence compared to Lynne.
In my heart I've always thought of Lynne as the 'trophy child'. She was smart, responsible, cute and good-looking. I guess this was kind of the perfect set up— with these positions this way; my position in the family is mysterious and barely known to the family to outsiders— essentially giving me a quiet life.
"Oh, yeah, Freddie was also at the party." Lynne said.
"Freddie in the wheelchair?" I asked not sure who had spoken.
"Yeah, he wanted to introduce you his kids."
"Oh?" I didn't seem enthusiastic. I raised my eyebrow sarcastically. I wasn't too happy as the people residing on this street were either all above 50 or below 9 years of age if counting the children.
Rethinking of this, I changed my mind and asked again as there must be a reason for them to mention another child— most likely they were hopefully above the age of 13.
"What's their name?"
"Her name is Lisa and—"
"Oh〜 he has a daughter?"
"Yeah, she goes to Essendale High as well. Her sister graduated from Essendale last year as well."
Listening up to this point, I thought back to multiple mornings before.
I would finish my breakfast and change into my uniform, and outside the window I would see a girl wearing the black and gold uniform of Essendale State High school. From where I would be standing I would be able to see her ashen blonde hair looking quite unnatural, and I wouldn't be able to see her eye color as she was not only staring at her phone, but was quite far to begin with.
The man on the wheelchair has a daughter and her daughter's name was Lisa ehh...
The fact that I remembered she went to my school and haven't talked to her for a year despite living on the same street... eh. It's not that big a deal.
Wait isn't this the same mindset? Oh well.
"Sounds... interesting." I said
"Uhn, she was a bit shy and was even hesitant on meeting with you." Damn, way to shatter my illusions, mum.
"Damn, she's scared of me?" I had on an awkward smile.
"No no no, she's in the year above of you. She's just quite the shy person." Mum corrected herself.
I shrugged.
"Yeah, we were having quite a laugh about that. I even joked that if she was getting picked on you can call on the entire volleyball team with all of you tall boys." Mum gave me a teasing smile.
Ok, first, mum, don't start most of your sentences with 'yeah' like the others ok? I can do so, but I fear for you mother.
Second, please don't joke with me like this— why do you act so sweet? Mum, you're an old school French woman, I doubt your heart can have changed in just the span of almost two decades... scary, this woman was scary, and never forget that.
My mother was a strict and old school French woman, so physical punishment as a child was expected, but I didn't resent that— What I resented was the calm attitude she would pretend to have— since it was only in between us as family she didn't show this 'fake' side of her that often.
I sighed and stood up once more.
"Fu—!" I stopped myself before shooting myself in the foot. I had to shoot myself in the neck apparently.
This god damned neck!!!
I need to go cry in the bathroom now.
...
...
...
...
...
...
It was currently 22:15— nighttime.
And as for my self-tradition— ritual— a must in my daily routine— well, a must for every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday between autumn and winter hours— was, the last but not the least important task of the day— the long anticipated—
{{Yo can you shut the fuck up? Are you a narrator? Just say it ya dumb c***
Jesus fuck! Are you Australian? Why the hell are you saying the c-word so nonchalantly?
Who the hell are you? Are you American now? Oos Oos oi ya wanna go ya dog?
Ya fuckin' maggot, yeahh... never forget c*** the power of the fuckin' Oos.
Yeahhh, I'm the hood rambo ya dog... yeahh, wanna wrestle? Ayy, ya can't wrestle ya fucking maggot.
Ayy, ya fuckin' c*** have this, yeahh, never forget c*** I'm the hood rambo brah.
Yeah, that's right, get back to the boneyard ya dog.}}
Who the hell was he arguing with? Well he sounds kinda pretty 'Bogan'.
(Author's Note: Reference for that random self-bogan argument: https://www.instagram.com/p/CNPLEHrnGYl/?igshid=123wkm0bpmh6l)
(Author's Note: If you don't know what a Bogan is— I recommend the 5th definition, the other ones work too I guess. https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=bogan)
My head experienced a strong headache as I lay in the bathtub.
"Ouch! Why the hell does it feel like I'm being cursed at by a gang of annoying eshay?" I truly didn't feel like dealing with eshays.
(Author's Note: https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Eshay)
I lay in the bath with my eyes closed.
Why do I feel so lonely?
Do I truly have daddy issues?
Hol' up! Who's changing the script again?
I gave out a long sigh.
(Author's Note: words between { } are sung in French— this is the song he is singing; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiKj0Z_Xnjc
Papaoutai— It basically translates to: Dad, where are you?
The song artist who wrote this song had lost his father at a young age during the Rwandan Genocide (very sad song).
It's a good song and all of the artist's— Stromae's— other songs are just as good and meaningful if you take the time to translate the lyrics :)
{Tell me where he comes from
Then I'll finally know where I'm going
Mum said if you look hard enough
You'll always end up finding it
She says that he's never very far
He often leaves to go work
Mum says working is very good
Better than to be in bad company, right?
Where is your dad?
Tell me where is your dad?
Without even talking to him
He knows even what's wrong
Oh my dear father
Tell me where you're hiding
I must have counted my fingers at least a thousand times
Where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you, where are you, where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you dad, where are you?
Where are you, where are you, where are you dad, where are you?}
I finished singing this wonderful piece almost bringing stronger emotions out of me.
Sigh... it truly is quite sad—
the fact that I have regressed to this stage.