New beginnings and Extreme Measures

It was one and a half hours later when I got home. It was way over the time I would normally be home. The moment I entered the house my parents had sceptical looks on and were sitting side by side looking at the door. I can't say how long they have been sitting there, but they sure made themselves comfortable. The long-forgotten tea sat untouched on the table as they seem to have been in deep discussion about something. The looks on their faces scared me and wonder what they might do. I made sure to keep both hands behind me as I faced them with a face, I could only say felt pitiful.

"Well, you're home. How was your first day?" My mother said breaking the silence first.

"It was good. Then it turned bad. It was my fault." I said, my eyes burning as my lips trembled.

My father shifted in his chair and asked, "What are you talking about? Are you talking about your bruised look and your hidden hands you don't want us to see?"

"I cut them. I don't know how; just fell and something gashed it, and that happened. The art classroom was where I was."

The interrogation was killing me, and though I had nothing to be guilty about, my heart still palpitated in my chest like I was. I was positive my face was showing my fright.

My mother got up from her chair and went behind the kitchen table to the counter. She said, "Honey, come sit. You look tired. Have some water."

My father solemnly declared, "You did not achieve what you desired going up in the class."

I sniffled and wiped my face with a kerchief from the table. I muttered quietly, "On the contrary. There was this shadow in the classroom. You might think I am crazy if I told you."

Honestly, I wanted to tell them. Only they wouldn't judge me, and call me crazy, or tell me I was lying. They hadn't started yelling at me yet for being home at this hour, but I was sure they trusted me enough to know what I was doing wasn't shameful or illegal. At least, I was hoping and praying for all the good thoughts to be in their head.

"Lucy, we love that you have a passion for art and colours. We never doubted your capabilities. We will always encourage you to do what you think is right. Don't you think it is time you rest?" My mother declared sadly. I knew she meant well and tried hard to not offend me, and realizing it now. I smiled at her and with blurry vision, I saw her come towards the table.

"How can I? It torments me. I can't sleep." I said painfully. Even I could have heard it in my voice. My hands were covering my face and I couldn't hold back more tears. Something told me this was the worst possible thing that has ever happened to me. The sad part is, it is not over yet.

"I think you're thinking too much about this. Lucy, to perfect, you need to take a step back and assess. It is not only you that falls down in life. Better things are ahead." I had to always respect my mother. She knew just what to say to console someone, no matter what. I looked up from my hands to her soft motherly smile and nodded her head my way.

"We always tell you that, don't we?" Added Dad, observing my reaction.

"Mom, Dad, I always got what I wanted. It just hurts that something is stopping me from doing what I love." I said, leaning back and complaining some more. Now, I did not particularly feel sad, but angry.

"You can't think like that. When was the last time you slept a full eight hours?" My mother said in her demanding tone, but it was unlike the one she used normally.

"What do you mean, I can't think like that? Of course, I can. Do you want to know what happened to me this afternoon?" I said, full-blown anger taking me over.

"I saw a shadow in the Arts room, and it tugged and pushed me around like a bully. I didn't see what it was, but it reeked, and it came over me and took a canvas, my bleeding hands soaked. It just disappeared after that." I finished harshly.

Covering my mouth with both hands, they looked at me, flabbergasted. Their looks both were horror mixed with fear, and the look turned to worry excessively fast in one blink. I saw something I have never seen before, and if it was another situation, I would have definitely called it out. My father held on to my mother's hand and both still said nothing, not even a movement. I feared they might both go into shock.

"Oh, my god! Why didn't you call for someone?" The shout of my mother gave made me so fright I nearly slipped out of my seat.

"I did. Only after it left did anyone hear me scream. The woman, Myra, helped me. There were two other males, too." I said, holding out my hands for them for comfort. I think I pushed too far with them.

"That's good. Thank God they were there," Mom said, holding her chest.

My mother gave me a hug to calm me down. Hardly even noticed I was crying, I held on to her and she told me to cry. She pressed lightly on my shoulders and wrapped me closer. My father watched and sighed.

My father got up and said, "Come on, Lucy. I think it is time to fetch some water."

He and I would do this every afternoon after school. We would have gone sooner if I had reached home in time. Now it is a little later than we would go, but at least we won't have to wait in a long line.

"Arthur, how could you say that? It hurt her hands."

He looked at Mom and then at me sternly. There was no room for argument. He said, "Will you just come with me? I think we need to have a little talk."

"Oh, speaking about talks, I made two new friends today. They were new students, and they were very kind." I brightened the moment I talked about those two troublemakers.

"Oh wow, this is surprising. I hope we get to meet them soon," my mother related excitedly. She was always welcoming new people into the house. One cannot imagine all the preparation she does when she knows someone coming over or if there is someone new who is potentially coming over.

"I know. They were also curious about you too. I am sure they are just full of questions."

"As are we? I must find out how they got you to be their friend. Let's face it. You're not big on making friends," my father stated bluntly.

"I have to agree. It seems illogical to us you would ever make any friends, though all our hopes did not hibernate. It just dampened." My mother was ashamed of what she said, but she did not mean it in a bad way. I could tell.

"I should mention they are a girl and a boy. I will just go get changed and then I would be down."

"Lucy, aren't you tired? You don't have to go with your father."

"Mom, it is okay. I think it might do me some good. Also, Dad and I haven't spent enough time together at all these days."

I did not wait for her to say anything else. I raced upstairs and undressed as quickly as possible. Our house held three small bedrooms. There is a tiny hallway reaching the living room, and there were also other ways leading to the other parts of the house. It all surrounded the living room. My parents' room was before mine, while I tucked away mine at the back of the tiny home. There was a spare bedroom in the middle. I preferred having my space and avoiding the little talks my parents would have at all odds in the nights.

I took some extra clothes where I hoped to convince my father to let me go swimming. Smiling, knowing very well my chances to go. Then he might not allow me to go since both my hands are in bandages. I ended up packing them, anyway. My outfit was simple. I had on shorts and a t-shirt. Coming back down, I heard my parents talking. I stopped two steps from the ground and rested my ears against the nearby wall.

"Why are you insisting on taking her? You just heard what she said," my mother explained frustratingly.

"She needs to feel normal, and this is the only thing normal for her. Our daughter just went through something in her life once more that she cannot explain. What do you intend to do, lock her in here?"

"She's hurt. It does not feel right going out like this."

"Don't be paranoid. She will be with me. If she needs space, I am going to give her. If she sticks with me, then we will be home together."

At the tone of my father, it left no space for arguments. Even I knew better than to argue with that. There are just some lines you just cannot cross. I couldn't see or hear anything for a while, and I decided this was the time to come down and let them see me.

"Good, get your shoes. We are leaving."

"Bye Mom," I said, kissing her hastily. She was going to complain, but I rushed behind Dad before she could say a word.

The walk wasn't long. The well was a little way off, but you only felt it when you were too tired. My father wasn't so young anymore. I accompanied him when I feel he had a long day and even when I am tired, I still feel obliged to go with him. It was an unexplainable action that pushes me because I knew it was the right thing to do.

We passed our small marketplace. I looked around at the empty stalls and some others who stayed a little longer to see if anyone needed last-minute items. It might be a small place, but with huge exports and farming big among us, we simply sustain ourselves and even others outside the village. I looked over at Dad and he looked tired. I was positive that worrying about myself also took a toll on him, too.

I tried looking at his face to ask him, "Dad, are you alright?"

"Yes, would you mind taking this from me for a while?" He passed me the jars we brought along as I pushed them on the little trolley.

"Sure. Listen, Dad, I don't want you to worry about me. You grew me to be a strong woman, you just need to trust me."

It just felt right to let him know and to reassure him I was going to be fine, even if I don't know it yet.

He stopped a moment and looked at me sternly, yet his face showed his adoration for me.

"My child, the problem isn't trusting. The problem is, if you are strong enough to fight whatever has been troubling you. How do I know you will persevere?"

"I know I will." We looked at each other in silent comfort, and he eventually patted my hand, pushing the trolley. We slowly continued walking.

"Dad, do you remember last year when the doctors said I had a stroke? What really happened to me?"

He scratched his head before answering. "What do you mean? It was a mild stroke. They told me that. Why do you ask?"

"I asked because there was doubt in my mind that it was a stroke. I don't feel different."

"Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Mild strokes can sometimes be fatal. I was just thankful nothing happened to you."

At that moment, it conflicted with me, since he was pushing my opinions away for a reasonable explanation. I didn't want that right now.

I decided complaining a little more would make me feel better. "No one at school remembered it. They all said they didn't know. How could someone not remember that?"

"It happens to the best of us, but you keep to yourself. They were probably uncomfortable." He said that while waving his hands at me so as to not bother.

"I keep thinking, how could you say such a thing? How come you're not cheering me up?" I finally burst. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I didn't think I had to. You were just telling me how big you were. Why can't you cheer yourself up?"

"Oh my god Dad, were you teasing me all this time?" I asked, stopping back to look at him. He continued walking, only to stop a few feet away from me.

"For that, I should have let you fill the water up." He said, as his eyes danced with mischief.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake! You could have just told me you didn't like what I said. I just didn't want you worrying about me until you're too tired."

"You're my daughter. There isn't anything that you can do that I won't worry about. You can be the richest woman on this Earth and I would still worry. Even in my grave, you can count on it."

I don't know what it was with my father, but he loved using hand motions. For each word he said, he emphasized the ending with a chop-style hand movement. It was funny, but at least his words I was absorbing.

"Dad, you can't say those things. There are so many things you need to see." I said, giggling at his red face now. He was spewing nonsense.

"You know, I have been thinking about taking your mother someplace nice. Lucy, when you have your children, you will understand how difficult it is to not worry. Come now, girl, time waits for no one."

We were walking a little way until I started laughing at something. He looked over his shoulder at me and asked what was so funny. I found the time to tease him about holding on to Mom, and he laughed too. He said although she scared the living crap out of him, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. Then he started telling me about his day and the work problem I had to help him solve along the way.

As the bottles were full to the brim and all strapped to pull, he held my hand back from holding on to the bars on the trolley. I looked at him and my eyebrows wrinkled in my face.

"I promised your mother I would give you some alone time. You can do what you like, just don't get lost." He said, patting my hand once more. I only realized them my hand doesn't hurt like normal. How weird, I thought. I was still not letting him go home all by himself.

"No, you don't look too well. You might come down with something. I think I should go back home."

"Dear, I wasn't asking. It's a command. As your father, I command you to go out and recollect yourself. Just take a breather, alright?" he tried calming my serious demeanour against him, and with squinted eyes and pouted mouth, I let go.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" I said, finally letting go and standing back to watch him go off.

"Yes, I will. Don't be too late, okay?" He said as he waved goodbye from behind.

I watched him go, then made my way down to the riverside. There weren't many people around, and I mentally noted everyone around me before making sure that everything was okay. I trotted my way down. As I was walking, I began getting a weird feeling. Someone was walking a far way behind me. As I made sure to turn now and then to see the difference, there weren't any. Turning abruptly, I tried to find a good hiding place. I heard urgently the galloping footsteps as I crouched down behind some thrown-out cardboard. Covering my mouth, I was furious that someone would follow me out in the daylight.

Silence rang in my ears as I looked around and found no one. Determined to have a bath on the riverside, I sprinted down the short pathway to be greeted with shimmering blue waves and a welcoming lure. My clothes felt as though they were floating off my body and it drew my hands to the water. Without hesitation, I plunged and waded, smiling to myself. Only after I surfaced, I heard it, making my heart drop.