For idiot_Soso

At one point in your life, regardless all the weights that pull you down, you learn to swim to match the weights. Once you are able to float, even if someone adds more weights, you feel as though you have a chance. That chance makes all the difference.

My chest felt light but my head was heavy and stuffed with my stiffened eyes so rubbed them hard.

Survival of the fittest was a saying that should have long been abolished because we can't fight death. Instead we should come up with a new saying: survival of the content because those who are happy are the true survivors; those who can mould their distress into utter joy are winners. More than half of my life, I've been waging a war with death, trying to protect those who wish to be its slave before it's their time. When someone dies, you can't blame them for fighting enough but you can chose to blame others who've stuck to a path of making the deceased miserable. Just because we can't fight death, doesn't mean we should push people of the bridge as human sacrifices because it won't help us live a longer life.

Orpil and Suha seemed to have a very short life. They could die any month, any day, any hour but they won't regret it. They will survive in the hearts of those whom they've touched because they made our lives content. Those who make us happy, surpass death.

"Oh my god, Felvan! I've searched the whole bloody building for you." I had forgotten that Marcus had come to the hospital with me but he was alone thus I wondered where Nick was. "Felvan! Don't act mute in these situations!" His screaming was starting to hurt my head.

Nonchalantly, I addressed him, "Marcus, I'm not acting mute, you just need to calm done." He began scrutinising me all of the sudden, making me feel uneasy and concerned. Did I have something on my face?

"Have you been crying?" His eyes grew bigger as shock took control of his face. "You didn't even cry when your beloved cat died, is the pain that bad?"

"No." I assured. "I don't feel anything." It wasn't a lie, I couldn't feel anything, I was an empty can that had poured everything out.

"Well then," he smiled as he draped an arm over my shoulder like he used to, "let's go home."

"Sure, let me pay for the bill first."

"Don't bother, Nick already did." I couldn't help but be surprised and slightly touched. Marcus glanced at my face and probably came to the conclusion that I needed more of an explanation so he added, "he said it was his fault and he made you swerve of a curb or something and as a human being he should pay for the damage done to you and your bike."

"My bike?"

"He said he'll drop off a new one at your house."

I could feel my heart inflate in my chest. I felt my lips stretch and my cheeks lift; I probably looked like a Cheshire cat. I let out a long sigh, Nick was always so good to me. The only word that I could think of to describe him with was nice. My mind went blank whenever I thought about him, as though my brain wanted me to make new memories to fill the blank spaces. I didn't know if it was necessarily memories with him or just in general but whatever it was, I liked the feeling.

"Felvan?" I replied to Marcus with a hum.

"How did you know I was there?" My feet almost faltered but Marcus's grip was too strong to let me slip. "How did you know I was at the cliff?"

I laughed hesitantly. "Well we were best friends for ten years, I ought to know where you'd be."

"Wrong." My whole body halted and tensed. "We we're friends for ten years, ten months and ten days." I didn't know what to say. The fact that he remembered spoke itself, I felt guilty for not remembering the exact numbers.

Chuckling, I asked, "don't you think the numbers are too perfect to be true or even a coincidence?"

He looked down at his feet, refusing to meet my eyes. "They're true and not a coincidence, I decided to go to Ridgeport Boys School early so that I could disappear exactly on the tenth day."

I didn't know what to feel so I asked, "Why?"

"Because ten was your favourite number."

"But I was also my birthday!" I was furious and I wasn't going to hide it. All along I thought he had no choice. "How could you disappear on my birthday?"

"I didn't want to upset you on by disappearing the day or week after. I wanted you to be eleven and make new choices without me."

"And who gave you the right to choose whether or not I got to make those decisions without you?" Why did everyone think they were doing me a favour when they were being considerate?

"I was eleven too, I didn't... know what I was doing. I'm sorry." He looked up finally and held my gaze. How could he just be sorry? I wanted to retort but he began to speak before me.

"The only thing I want is for you to be happier." My breath came out shakily as I suddenly felt cold. "Just happier." I forgave him. I didn't expect myself to do so but I didn't want to argue with him. Sometimes sorry was enough.

He took of his beige coat and wrapped me in it. He moved closer and hugged me. I could hear his erratic heart that matched mine, so I closed my eyes and listened to it.

I wanted him to be happier and that was all I wanted.

—

Marcus walked me home with us both wallowing in the comfortable silence and sedate pace. We prolonged the journey with slow steps till we were right in front of my shabby home.

"This is where I live now." When Marcus left, we were soon to realise that we couldn't afford to be his neighbour anymore so we moved to a smaller house near the recycling centre. "This is home." It wasn't, I couldn't smell dad in the hallways neither could I imagine him walking in them. I was the reason why we moved, those years back, we had the money to still live there but mother was getting anxious seeing me talk to my dead dad every night so we moved. I could still see him sometimes. At that point where Marcus said his goodbye I could see dad, he was happy to see Marcus again, he was happy to see me smile.

I heard the familiar sound of the keys clicking. The door was quite hard to open but when you know the secret it becomes easier. The smell hit me first. The sweet, sour and tangy smell that stuck to your tongue was wafting through the house. Mother hadn't made her chicken soup in years, she must have been feeling well.

"Felvan, Felvan!" She heard the screams of the twins' chorus through the house. "Mummy made us soup!" Their radiant smiles were enough to light the room. Tammy and Tommy were both seven and an absolute headache but brightened the grim house. They halted to the sight of my cast and crutch and tilted their heads to a forty five degree angle simultaneously. "Why happened to your leg?"

"I fell of my bike." I said with a grin. "Now I have a broken bone."

"Finally, you did something worth remembering." I chuckled heartily to their response.

"Is that so? Did you guys eat?"

"Yes, sir!" They saluted me and ran off to their room.

I took my shoe off and took the other out of the plastic bag the hospital gave me and placed them on the shelf. I was still wearing Marcus's coat so I carefully placed it on a hook and made a quick mental note to give it back.

I shared my room with all my siblings since there were only two in the house but I usually found myself sleeping on the couch. I stripped myself off my sticky clothes in the bathroom and wore a jumper with holes and a skirt. I liked things with holes, it made me feel as though I've had them for a long time.

Mother's door was closed, I presumed she was asleep so I didn't disturb her. I devoured the chicken soup left on the counter as though I hadn't eaten for days. I knew the taste would stick to my mouth for years. I finished up, cleaned the dishes and then sat down to my laborious job of contacting all my employers. I left them all emails scheduled to be sent tomorrow at eight but I left out Mr. Green. I was going to call him as it only seemed right.

Just as I was finishing up my email to St. Vincent sixth form, Clementine arrived home. I disproved of her coming home so late but I stayed quiet, she goes through a lot and I didn't want to add to her list.

"How was your day, Clementine?"

"Fine." She slammed the door behind her.

I sighed to myself and began revising. I didn't go to school often but I maintained exceptional grades. I knew that if I wanted to leave St. Vincent and bestow my mother and siblings with a better life, my grades were vital. I knew I shouldn't dream. Dreams were for people who didn't have a reality but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to be the youngest and best pilot when I was younger but now I hadn't a single clue.

Droopy eye lids forced me to check the time. It was two in the morning, it was time for mother's antibiotics for the ear infection she developed last week. My ears perked to the sound of her door unlocking, I quickly closed everything and pulled the blanket over my body.

I couldn't see what she was doing until I felt her hand on my forehead.

"I'm sorry, Felvan." She sniffled. "I'm sorry you have to deal with my madness every day. My insomnia is getting worse but I don't know how to tell you because you already try so hard." I had the urge open my eyes and see if she was OK but her next words stopped me. "I'm sorry you have to always be good for others. I just want you to know that it's OK to fail sometimes, let me pick you up for once."

If I let you pick me up, mother, you'd crumble down faster.

I heard her leave and only then could I open my eyes. Looking at the blank, dark ceiling, I prepared myself for another endless and sleepless night.

—❤︎—

Sometimes, being considerate and staying silent is how we destroy things, maybe we should speak our minds more often, don't you agree?

When you see this, comment #behappier