"Yes that's right, I said it. Magic", proudly exclaims Alora. Both Fausto and Rachel look at each other and have an expression of doubt. Fausto busts out giggling and Rachel soon follows. "Why is magic the first thing you think of Alora?", asks Fausto while he tries to hold back the tears from laughing.
"What's so funny?", says Alora sounding upset. Rachel says to her, "No disrespect Alora but, but that is the most stupidest thing I heard."
"Ok will let me explain and then you'll see what I am trying to say. Logically... whatever is happening has to be something in field of the paranormal because there is no possible explanation. Let's say if there was chemical leak on the outside of the town, it still doesn't explain Fausto's 2 month absence. Right? Ok what if it's some sort of rupture in time? If there is anything I learned in college, something like that would hypothetically be loud as hell and could potentially be earth shattering. I'm talking about black hole eating the world type of shit. So that's out", explains Alora. She scans the expressions of Fausto and Rachel to see if they can understand. Rachel appears to be in some way understanding but Fausto looks completely lost.
"Then what about that monster I saw a month, I mean, 3 months ago? It has to do something with this magic stuff, right? It's not like it's a natural occurrence in these parts", says Fausto.
"You saw a monster", chuckling says Rachel.
"And the disappearances", Fausto adds but takes a second and takes back her words, "But what about those soldiers I saw?" Alora stays quiet because it was something that passed over her head. She began to fidget with her hands and occasionally snapped her finger in a rhythmic fashion.
"Conspiracy!", shouts out Alora with excitement. "The government is in on it! They have to be. Why else would they have guys with guns hanging out in the perimeter of the city", Alora contiues. Rachel just at this point being annoyed of Alora tells her, "Ok it's a conspiracy but it still doesn't explain what is going on. Either way, let's just be glad that Fausto is back home and hope that this whole thing is going to blow over. Now let's stop talking about this stuff before Fausto's mom gets here."
"Your mom is coming", frowns Alora, "Who invited her?" Fausto just points his finger to Rachel. "I did, She said she is going to be here shortly", says Rachel with authority. Making a face, Alora decides that it is much better to leave than to stick around. The last encounter she had with Fausto's mom wasn't a good one, she was an insult away from punching his mom across the face. "Yikes, alright I'll catch you around later then Fausto," she waves happily before she steps out of his apartment with haste.
"Seriously, I appreciate it but why did you have to tell my mom that I was back home?", asks Fausto. Rachel doesn't respond to him, instead she just has this very upset look on her face. A face that Fausto has grown to know from how constant it was in his relationship with her. A face he simultaneously grew to hate and fear. "I thought you stopped talking to her?", asked Rachel with that damning expresion. Nervously sweating, Fausto doesn't understand why she is upset so he thinks of treading lightly with his words.
"Well, she was my friend all throughout college and she does happen to be my neighbor. So we talk from time to time", says Fausto but with a nervous chuckle he tries to make a light hearted joke, "You know how the weather is or you have any spare sugar..."
"I can't believe you still talk to that red-headed bitch, Fausto", says Rachel. Fausto doesn't say anything to her insult because he is just left with nothing to say. It brings back memories of how they used to fight with each other and she would leave him speechless with her rebuttals. Only this time, his stomach burned from the inside. The normal pit that Rachel's words would create inside of his belly were instead being filled with anger. His skin and blood ran cold by a simple insult directed to his friend, however, it wasn't the first time that Rachel has insulted his friends and to be more exact, Alora. So what was the difference this time?
"Rachel, I think what I do now, isn't any of your business", heartly says Fausto. Confused by Fausto's comment, Rachel says to him, "None of my business? Wasn't I the one who found you on the street and tried to make you feel safe in your own home. Don't you know, how worried I was for you these past 2 months. To- To only find out you were probably just high off your ass with your stupid ass friend in the forest!", says Rachel with so much conviction. Her display of emotions takes Fausto aback and makes him think, "Was I wrong to get mad?"
Not knowing what to do, Fausto begins to apologize for his outburst but Rachel is still upset by his actions. "You think I am going to be ok, after you told me that shit," says Rachel and she begins to mock his apology, "Oh, Im sorry Rachel, I'm sorry please forgive me, shut the fuck up Fausto!"
Fausto not knowing what to do, sits up from his crusty couch, puts on his clothes and starts to walk towards the door. "What exactly are you going to do Fausto, run away? Don't be stupid... come back here and I'll accept your apology", eggs on Rachel. Fausto still has his back towards her, he is too afraid to look at her in the eyes. He is scared that if their eyes met, he might begin to cry.
"Rachel?", says Fausto with a shaky voice. "Tell me, why did you come here? Were you really worry for me?" Rachel stays quiet and takes a second to think. "Of course I was worried for you. I wouldn't leave my home for anybody", says Rachel in a total mood switch.
"Really?"
"Yes."
My Father's Knuckles
It is within these arms that I feel safe.
From those outside and from those trying to penetrate through my wall.
Despite my place of peace is being left bruised and mangled.
It's the one place in the world that no one can hurt me.
Reminiscing about the way my life has been, is how I spend my days.
When everything meant so much
The love, fun, anger, and loneliness is how I wish it was again.
Even though, during those times, I hated them.
I've inherited my family's hands.
Cold and discolored by the constant change of the seasons.
Even though they are handed down to me, it is something I want to reject.
Because I was never given a choice to begin.
Stuck with these lifeless, battered, white knuckles.
It was you, that I've learned to appreciate them once more.
Much like how I watched my father carry them when I was a child.
The weight of the world, he carried with his arms.
I wish to carry that burden for someone.
To let them rest.
Much like how I rested behind my wall.
But first, I need to crawl.
-Fausto Merlo