- "Good Mathematics is not about how many answers you know... It's how you behave when you don't know" -
- Anonymous
- "Do you want to come to my home for some warm, fresh clothes? I'm pretty sure my mom would have something that can fit you..."
"I know it seems confusing now but please..." he begged, burying his nose into her wet hair, "-pretend to kiss me..."
Liam envisioned it to happen that way the moment his eyes landed on a figure similar to the one he had seen at the café the other day. 'If he pretended that he and Emma were a couple, it'd trick the figure to believe that he had the wrong person in his mind' - that was his brilliant idea but- he couldn't just say something like that, especially not after the awkward fall. His eyes landed on Emma immediately after he spotted the man lurking in the shadows at the alley on the other side of the street. He was temporarily paralyzed by the fear infecting his body, the fear of death, but he forced his body to move.
"Emma-" he whispered.
"I've had enough!" she cut him off, rising to her feet and dusting her clothes, "You made me look like a complete fool! I have had just enough of you."
Endless thoughts ran through his mind. If he didn't act anytime sooner, they both could be dead meat and as grumpy and arrogant as she was, he'd feel guilty for the rest of his life if he was ever to bring anyone else into such a mess.
"Emma..." he called out once more, only to be ignored again.
"There aren't enough adjectives in this world to begin to describe how useless and incompetent you are not only as a student but an individual. You're not even disciplined enough to stay in a class and learn for God's sake! So incompetent!"
Liam took and few steps and stood before the girl dressed in a gown of fury. She looked like a beast with empty yet raging eyes, throwing insults so cold yet so dry and pale as though they had lost their meaning the moment they escaped her lips. Regardless of how she reacted, he thought, he had to do something to save both their lives.
"Forgive me," he muttered, "What I'm about to do is not meant to be taken in any way. I don't have the time to explain but- trust me."
He took the chance while he could, looping his arm around her in an air-embrace such that his arms didn't touch her in any way. He placed his cheek so close to hers so that she could only feel the warmth emitting from his body. As cold as she was as a person, he too could feel the heat leaving her body as well as the pain from the burning glare she sent his way.
"Have you no shame for what you have become?" her icy stare stabbed holes through his eyes. "How can your parents ever pray for and love a son like you?"
The way she said it, in an aloof tone full of indifference and apathy, made him feel like absolutely nothing.
"I can say exactly the same about you, Emma," he spat with new born annoyance, "You're quite the talker.
"And you're truly a pervert," she barked and then out of the blue, she sent a knee flying into his manhood, grabbing both his wrists, squeezing and twisting with all the strength she had locked inside her until a holler of pain left his lips.
He squeezed his legs together instantly and looked heavenward to find God, maybe to ask for an icepack and a double dose of patience. It felt like a hot never-ending pinch on his wrists, like someone was roasting them over an open flame. He bit down on his lower lip to absorb all the aching and feigned a stoic expression all how it burned like hell.
"I know you feel that," she snapped, twisting even further with an evil glint in her eyes, "and I can make it hurt twice as much if you want."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, breathing heavily. "What are you? A demon?" he struggled to say.
"Get the hell away from me."
She thrust his wrists out of her grip, throwing him onto the floor and gathered her things in lightning speed. When the pain reached its peak, Liam hollered, grasping his wrists and rolling about in the grass. Emma took advantage of the opportunity and ran off, running as fast as her slender legs could take her, with damp hair, in a damp uniform inflated with the air that rushed in her blouse. Had there not been buttons that kept it fastened, it might have ripped off her body and fly away with the wind.
It was merely an hour before sunset. It was possible to fit in a 45-minute session but it was the least of her worries. She hurried home, found the small open window at the side of the house on the ground floor and with one leg through the tiny window, followed by the aided limb and then a thud, she was finally in. The dusty floor of the old storage room left sheets of light brown on the parts where it kissed her skin and clothes. Cobwebs decorated her hair wherever they got the chance to but she ignored it. Her heart was racing. She was cold, still hugged by her wet clothes and wished the earth could burst open beneath her and swallow her whole.
All she could see in her mind were the words '1st place', 'competition' and 'Liam' as she scurried to her feet and began to run. She squirmed through the endless towers of boxes and junk and found her way to the hallway where the ticking of the grandfather clock competed with her heartbeat.
"Where are you now coming from?"
She froze as she tried to scurry up the staircase when she came face to face with Nixon. Her blood ran cold and she could feel the heat accumulate in her core and cause her body to rock with anxiety and anger.
"And why are you all wet?"
"It's nothing to concern you."
"And who the f*** do you think you are talking to?" Nixon spat notoriously and insouciantly, having a stare off with an Emma who was forced to lower her gaze.
She must have lost her mind to try having a bicker with her superior, she thought.
"Just remember who you are when you are speaking to me. A goddamn waste in this world. All you're good for is bringing pain. Get out of my face!"
She shuddered under the scowl he made and rushed up the stairs so quickly that she hadn't realized she missed a step and fell to her great demise. A chuckle escaped his lips.
"Look at you. Karma's still getting its way back at you, eh? First, it gave you one leg and then, it made you blind. A pity, ain't it?"
Her throat burned from the embarrassment. Her leg was wobbly. Her eyes remained connected to the carpet since she wasn't worthy enough to stare at his face.
"I'm sorry..." was all she could find to say as a single tear made its way to her right eye. She got on her feet again, hurried to her room and slammed the door shut with a sorrowful, angry spirit. Her skin was red and alive with fury. Her face was glowing like a neon 'Open' sign and her eyes dilated to their maximum limit. She pulled the hair tie out her hair aggressively and stormed to the bathroom, hurling every product Nanna used on her limb into the toilet. She flung the glass bottles of oils towards the mirror and watched it crack and shatter into millions of glistening fragments, leaving behind a mirror with a dozen reflections gazing back at her. Everything else she pulled and tugged that was in her way collided with the floor and an ungodly sharp scream escaped her lips until her lungs gave out. She cried heavily. The tears came and kept flowing and flowing until her sclera was painted red. She climbed limply in the tub and wailed her heart out like there was no tomorrow.
"Would you go out with someone like me?"
"Ms. Waltz, your fruitless endeavors amuse me."
"...you are not in a position to make demands. I need to you to stay alright, okay?"
"You disappointment!"
"Your skin is so flawless; you're beautiful when you play."
"Get out of my face!"
"I can say exactly the same about you, Emma. You're quite the talker."
She saw their faceless figures emerge from the ground like the beanstalk from Jack's story. They circled the tub and repeated the same broken lines over and over again. All she could do is stare at them whilst trapped in the tub's grasp, holding her heart in one hand and stabbing it with the next.
"You failure..." she sobbed, "Just a talker. So fragile..."
"Why is it always just me? Why couldn't I look like everyone else?"
"Why am I always so weak?"
"Why couldn't I be like everyone else?"
"Why... why... why..."
Her questions landed on deaf ears. Her screams received no answers. Her intense tears only bathed her face and rendered her soul bare and withered.
Her chest burned. Her eyes burned. She was growing weaker, tired and sinking deeper into a blackhole. Just then, and out of the corner of her eyes, she glimpsed the perfectly shaped object, reflecting the blood-red glow of the LED lights that illuminated the room. It was sharp and perfect, she thought and added just the right feel to storm ransacking her life. She groped about until she found it and she grasped it tightly. She gazed at it lovingly as if it were a long-lost toy.
"It was never you, Liam," she smiled bitterly through the tears, "You were never the problem. It was just me."