When we finally reached the end of the passageway, the setting sun hiding behind the tall grasses welcomed us. The scenery seems calming without this situation I'm in.
And when I think about it now, how can I find the scenery calming for a moment despite my current situation? How can I think about the scenery when I should be crying and begging for my life right now?
I know ever since I was young my cold side of me makes me different from others but I don't want to force myself to like something I don't want either.
Thinking about my death gives me fear and anxiety, that's one of the few common things I have with others but with this man...
Am I really very different from others or is he the one who's different?
"Keep quiet." He glared at me waiting for me to respond so I nodded. He looks behind the building we're hiding to see if there's someone there. After checking out, he looked at me again.
His face is bruised and it seems like he had been beaten. He's hiding with me like someone's after him. Is it the police? We're here together alone but he's not showing off his knife or any instrument to kill me.
"What?" He asked me.
"A-Are you going to..." I'm wondering if I should tell him or not. If he already forgets about it and I reminded him that, it will be my fault.
"Going to what?"
I will die eventually either way.
"Going to kill me?"
"What?" He stared at me like I'm being ridiculous.
"I heard your conversation with someone yesterday in the dark alley. You-" I stopped. What if he'll kill me now because I heard something that I shouldn't hear from their conversation?
"You heard us?" His eyes became darker.
I knew it. I shut my eyes and waited for the embrace of my own death but a bark of laughter was I only received.
"Are you scared right now?"
I opened my eyes out of confusion. Is he a psycho?
"That's your scared face?" He laughed still.
What's wrong with my face?
"You look emotionless, really. Your murderer might pity you and think you need a therapist instead of actually killing you."
The audacity of him to say I need a therapist.
"Anyway, what you heard...has nothing to do with you." He furrowed his brows. "What exactly did you hear and how did you hear it?"
I'm relieved that it has nothing to do with me but that means they'll do it to someone, right?
I wonder if I should tell him, he'll use it as a reason to shut me up completely if I ever tell him and if I don't, he'll get mad and shut me completely because I'm useless.
I wince because of the same death ending.
"I heard the guy you're talking to, he said that they only need the body and not the head so they wouldn't care if she's a dumb bitch or not. I heard it yesterday on a dark alley hiding behind the large trash cans." I explained. "If it has nothing to do with me then are you going to..."
"No, I won't kill anyone." He answered swiftly and sternly.
I stared at him in confusion. What about their conversation? And he almost killed someone before, right?
More importantly, why are we here?
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Those guys were talking about the deal." He explained suddenly. I remember they mentioned a deal. "They will accept me to their group if I do as they say."
I furrowed my brows. What?
"I get excited 'cause finally I can belong somewhere but after a few weeks of ordering me here and there, their orders became more unbearable. They noticed that girls are flocking on me so they ordered me to give them a girl for their pleasure, they won't mind if it's a dumb bitch or not. It's basically a rape so I didn't do it and instead, I quit trying to be a part of them. They're mad about it so they're after me right now. I can totally overpower their strength but they are too many for me to handle all by myself so I ran. I'm telling you this so I won't wake up tomorrow in jail just in case you have plans on telling the authority."
His reasons make sense but at the same time, it doesn't.
"So you're telling me you are desperate for friendship?" I gave him a disgusted look.
I never understand why is it so important to belong somewhere when you can be independent and do your own thing.
"Who wouldn't?" He fired back like there's no one in the world who's not desperate for it.
"Me?"
"You're not a who, you're a what. What are you?" He winces at me. "It's a trend, you know."
"What do you know about the trend?" I winced back at him, all he did was play and abuse people. Then I suddenly remember, "Those guys that you bring every day to play billiard, are they one of them? Or are they the group you're talking about?"
"They're not a group. Just a bunch of random people who wants to hang out." He shrugged.
I thought he's desperate for friends why is he giving me that answer with that shrug?
"But before we get farther from the topic, you didn't answer my question earlier. Why did you bring me here?"
He gave me a long reply but that doesn't even have a single answer to my question. Is he going on telling people about his life story like an open book?
"You're staring at my hiding spot, you found me, if someone asks you where am I you'll probably tell them."
I stared at him for a moment remembering his awkward position in a place full of garbage. I was hiding from them yesterday behind the trash cans and today he's hiding from them in the garbage? Now we're both hiding behind a building facing a vast land.
"You think they're gone?" He asked after a few minutes. He tried to look behind so I tried to peek too but he stopped me with his hand. "It's clear."
I frowned at his actions.
Since we have the same destination, we both walk in the same direction and rode in the same vehicle to get back home.
But I feel like I'm missing something. I feel like I shouldn't go back with him yet, is it my instinct saying I can't trust him yet? Maybe his reasons and actions earlier were just a facade?
My overthinking stops because of people staring at us, we're both dirty as we head home. He stinks because of hiding within that garbage and I feel like his scent is spreading making me stink too.
"He's not here again, I told you there's nothing spe- what the hell?" The landlord was outside, puffing his cigarette as usual while talking to someone through his phone when he sees us. "Something came up, talk to you later." He approached us as he ends the call.
"Who's that?" Lyndon frowned at sir Richard.
"What in the world happened to you two? Are you both planning to replace Dora going on in an adventure?" I don't know if he's joking or if he's being serious. His face went from sincere to being amused. "Lyndon will be Boots." He joked.
I imagined Lyndon wearing a monkey costume following me in all places because of his words, I almost laughed at how absurd it looks.
"I'm asking you who's that you're talking to?" My imagination was disturbed because of his raging voice.
Sir Richard sighed like it's no use to cover up.
"Your father."
My eyes widened, his father?
"You're communicating with him?" He furrowed his brows deeply, he seems betrayed.
"He's just asking like usual."
"Like usual? Thought you want to cut ties with them. Is that a lie?"
What cut ties? Sir Richard? To his father? I've felt it before that they seem close, seriously what is their relationship?
"I never said that."
I feel like I shouldn't be here so I tried to sneak out quietly back to my room but Lyndon starts to head upstairs first.
"Suzi." I flinched with sir Richard's call.
"Yes, sir?"
"He's bleeding, what happened?" He asked worriedly.
"What?" I was dumbfounded. He's bleeding? I never saw blood though? "Where?"
"His flank, you're not aware?" His brows met. "He's wearing black and there's not much bloodstain on his clothes so it's not evident but he's bleeding."
I nodded in his explanation. If there's not much blood loss then there's nothing I should be worried about, right?
"Aid him in my stead. I'll give you the first aid kit, if he doesn't want you to come closer then just make sure that he treats himself."
Me? Aid him?
He noticed my expression so he persuades me more.
"He's wounded so please?"
He's wounded yet he never showed it to me, he never made an expression that he's hurt while we're walking. Maybe he hid it so that he won't make me worry about him or maybe he hid it because of his pride. Either way, I should help him.
Not because I want to but because I'm ordered to do so.