Thea’s Point of View
“Thea! “S-sorry about that,” she replied, and I knew we were thinking the same thing, since her cheeks were too red, and she appeared to be splattered with red coloring. I stated my intention, so she would not be embarrassed, and they could continue doing what they were doing.
“I'm sorry if I'm interfering with what you're doing. I was simply wondering where you placed my bag. The one you gave to me.” I looked behind her because the door handle still sounded like Ray was acting aggressively even at midday. It's good, and it's how they've always been. Their relationship did not deteriorate because they began hating each other and ended up wanting one other.
But when she looked at me, she was taken aback. Her brows met, and she returned my question, “Bag?”
Out of anxiety, I also altered my expression. It seemed as if someone was about to murder me with the intensity of my heartbeat. It is impossible to lose that thing because if I do, it means doom. “The bag I brought," I said, waving my arm, hoping she'd remember it better since she could have forgotten. “It's black and a bit full of full because Cray's dress is there.” I'm scared.
“Thea, I know you had a bag when you left here, but I don't know where it is. All I saw there was Wayne's bag full of injection drugs.” She was also holding her mouth because she seemed to be tarnished with my fear. I wanted to avoid making her feel nervous, but I couldn't stop her.
I dashed downstairs because the stairs were just next to their room. Because I was in such a hurry, I was almost as slippery as Cinderella, who was ready to be captured at daybreak. If fairy godmothers exist, I'd like to summon them to assist me. My prior self-assurance had abruptly waned. I want to squat when I'm not sure which stair I've walked on or how many steps I've taken.
“Thea! What are you up to?!” Megan's voice rang throughout the house as she followed me, and the door she was holding before suddenly opened, indicating that Ray was also following.
“What's happening?” Ray also asked the next question, but I got out before I heard Megan's answer.
I raced barefoot through their gate. I reached in my pocket even though I knew I had no money and hoped I could get a taxi immediately. If I look like this, I might not take a cab. Eventually, I'm not going to hold back. I didn't bother checking to see if Megan or Ray were still following me.
Because of what I did, I will be much more concerned about them, or I will worry about them more.
Fortunately, I was picked up by a taxi driver. Many drivers passed me because I looked like a prisoner who had escaped from jail. But luckily an old man looked kind and stopped in front of me. The only case is that I don't know how to pay him later. He might be mad at me.
“Sir, can I have your name? I left my belongings where I was going, and my money was still there. If you can't, you can take me down here.” I don’t know how I will get there if he leaves me here. I just bit my lip in embarrassment. I used to have my car, then I had a driver, but now it is very different. I didn't realize that my tears were falling, and I was sobbing. I massaged my chest to relieve the pain, but I cried, even more, when I looked at the billboard.
“Ma’am! Don't cry any longer, where will I take you? It is okay for me to take you for free because I'm going home as well.” He smiled genuinely as he stared at me in the driver's mirror. Large droplets of tears began to fall into my eyes. If only it could be money like the ones I see on TV, I'd be quite wealthy, owing to the quantity of sobbing I do every day.
It was embarrassing because I wasn’t smiling back at him. I just stared at the billboard where Craig and Felicity’s faces were, marking the date of the wedding, where it was to be held. What became even more reason for the sharp iron to sink into my heart was Craig’s smile. His smile was as if nothing had happened between us. It seemed okay to him because his smile was even brighter in the sunlight. It was as if flowers were surrounding him as he wore such a smile.
I wanted to get out of the car, and stab that billboard, tear it up and there pile all my anger on him, but it just seemed useless. I would like to ask him:
“How about me?”
“Take me to the burnt prison, sir. Where there was an issue the other day.” After I said that, I leaned my head against the window until the billboard gradually disappeared from my sight.
I want to lie down in the vehicle seat and cry out all the remaining tears until it's gone. Because of what's going on, I want to mute my thoughts, or maybe take a bottle of wine to drink it, or get a tissue paper to wipe my tears, in the hopes that everything will be OK after that. Maybe if I grew resistant to the suffering, I wouldn't have to go through the day as if I were a killer trying to save the day without being seen.
I heard the taxi driver talk as I leaned against the window. Maybe I need to talk to someone because I feel like I'm going to explode with all of my thoughts. It's as if, if I don't get all of them out, I'll feel like a bomb that exploded. I'd talk to the shadow clone if I could simply morph into Naruto and perform a Kage bunshin technique. I'll try to replicate how he consoled himself when he was down.
“I've felt sad before, ma'am. I'm not sure how much weight and suffering you bear and carry since we all have different thresholds for how much something pains us. But there is only one thing I can say: liberate your heart from that thing. If you are feeling stuck in agony, why not open the door and let it out? You will not be well if you push yourself to accept something that burns, boils, and chokes you.” He smiled, but I continued to listen to him. “Because if you're loved, that person will come back.”
He burst out laughing. “That's if love is your problem,” he added and chuckled, and I felt comforted. He continued, however. “But what they say is, if you are loved, that person will not leave you in the first place.”
He came to a halt after saying that. When I noticed that we were already in the area, I peered outside and sat up straight. I didn't open the door and thanked the driver right away.
“I will do as you say. I'll strive to break free from the bonds of misery and pain.” I grinned and walked away.
When the cab moved out at our location, I was observing how it got out when suddenly someone covered my mouth and carried me away.
I couldn't move because maybe I still couldn't regain my strength, I was easily carried away by the man who pulled me. I also didn't struggle. Not only that, but I might have a harder time because just in case I get out of this person's arms, I will just stumble and have a hard time running.
All I knew was that we were going inside the jail where Wayne had imprisoned me, but the pull on me was compelling. When we were inside, I pushed the person who still wouldn't let me go. I wiped my mouth that he was holding earlier.
When I looked up, I wasn't even startled to see who was standing in front of me. I'm not sure where Craig gets the strength to confront me now. Perhaps he no longer has feelings for me, making it simple for him. My heart was iced over with anguish. It's not used to Craig treating it this way, so it may have done nothing except cry in the hope of regaining Craig's affection.
“Where is my son?” I had a lot of questions for him, but it was the first one I asked. My following queries are meaningless to me since I know he won't answer them.
He looks at me with a profound gaze, as if he can see everything about me, including my heart. He gave me that look as though he was saying he no longer knew who I was. I smirked at my thoughts, wondering what emotion I should use to let him know I was in pain. Would he come back to me if I did that? Why are you so hard to love? Why does loving you feel like a curse to me?
“Thea …” That's what he said, and silence almost engulfed his voice.
I couldn't find anything to throw in front of him because the entire space was blank. I want to lose myself in front of him, to let out my rage and fury. Someone was screaming in my heart, wanting to burst out, and I had no idea what it was.
“Where is my son?” I asked him again. I don't want to get carried away by what he says anymore. I don't want to step closer to him again because he doesn't draw me back.
“Cray is safe,” he said as he sought to take my hand in his, but I backed away. I'm not going to let him touch me again.
“That's not what I'm asking.”
“Thea, it will be even harder for Randle if he doesn't know where he is going. There is so much danger around you … and it's better if—”
Because I don't want to hear what he says next, I slap him hard. That smack wasn't very forceful, but it was probably just enough to wake him up to his hallucination. If he can't hear himself, I can hear every utterance of words he makes, since it poisons my existence. Earlier, the driver was correct. If that person loves you, he or she would not abandon you in the first place; instead, you should be walking hand in hand, addressing the situation. But he didn't, so maybe I'm not fit to be there for him either.
“I have no idea what you're doing in this place, how you found it, or why you brought me back to this cell just to say those meaningless words. I'll forget what you said and pretend I didn't hear it.
GIVE. BACK. MY. CHILD.” My teeth are already hurt by my overemphasis on what I say to him.
Even though I didn't smack him hard, the cheek I slapped on him was still on the left side, as if he meant it. I bumped his arm and passed him since the bag I was searching for wasn't there.
My palms are sweating again, and if I touch something, it will soak up because of too much wetness. I was going to leave when he grabbed my hand; I'm not sure how he did it, even though I was already out the door. All I can tell you is that his lips are already brushing against mine. If I didn't respond to what he was doing before, my eyes would have widened. I gripped his arm for support because, to my surprise, I opened my mouth, allowing him to enter my mouth.
“Hmmm …!” I shoved him, but he didn't move.
To me, everything appeared to speed up. I'm not sure how he got me to lean against the wall. The cell door had likewise been shut. I just promised myself that I would never carry away to anything else he does again, yet here I am, unable to pull it off.
“AHH …” The growl's reverberation engulfed this space. I bit my palm to try to conceal my every whimper, but I was utterly lost in the heat of my body and every tickle of his caress.
My shirt is now a little higher up, and my pajamas are also a little lower. My eyes are already dilated, and I can feel the burning in my neck. Inside my tummy, there was a party going on. I'm not sure what's going on, especially as he sucks my left nipple while squeezing my right boob. He sucks my nipple with his tongue twirled. Because of what he does to me, I can tinker with his hair. He knelt like a kid who wants milk from his mother. Despite the difficulties of our position, he refused to budge.