Yells and screams thundered across the small living room. Two figures were throwing hands at each other. The TV was left on, yet no one paid attention to it. I was standing in the middle of the room as I watched them fight by the door. My mother was furious.
She had been cursing at Homer, who was drunk and was swaying with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. Homer screamed at Mother and slammed the door as he left. Mother cried her eyes out as she turned to me.
She grabbed me by the shoulders, her grip so tight that she was hurting me. Her eyes were bulging and wet with tears. Her hair was tousled and dampened with sweat. Her lips trembled in fury, the upper side exposing her front teeth as she spoke to me. "You're not gonna do that, right? You're not gonna hurt me like he did!"
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to react, as I just watched Homer leave with his truck. Mother shook me to get my attention back to her.
"Listen to me!" A slap stung on my cheek. A finger pointed at me. "I know what he did to you, and I didn't do anything to stop him. He is a monster, I know that. But don't get me wrong. I only let him hurt you because I thought I'd trust him with you."
"Does that mean he won't come back?" I asked, my voice so tiny, like a squeaking mouse trying to say something to save its own life. I hoped for a yes.
My mother sighed, thinking. She pressed her waist with her fists. Her tears seemed to burn her eyes as she blinked rapidly. "I don't know. I hope that punk gets hit by a truck or something."
I lowered my head. I hope so, too.
She retreated to a chair at the dining table, wiping her tears with her palms. She sniffled. Her voice broke, struggling to echo her words into thunder. "He's an imbecile. I gave up everything for him, and that's what he'd do to me!"
My eyes raised themselves to glance at her, curious about what she meant by that. I hesitated. I knew she hated questions. I knew she hated telling me about anything. I knew she hated talking to me. I knew this type of conversation was to warn me not to do the same thing to her. I stuttered until I formed the right words. "What did he do?"
She had had enough. She looked so done. The way she flared her nostrils as she glared deathly at me. The way her arm fell from below her chin to lean into the flat table surface beside her. The way her back straightened and the way her foot jerked slightly inward. "He's with another woman."
My mother stood and looked away from me. She headed to the stairs, massaging the temples of her head. "I can't take this. I'm going to bed."
I was left in the living room. I watched as she disappeared from my sight into the dark upstairs, where I was never allowed to enter. Ascending to one stair step might get me in trouble. I never attempted.
Little did she know, I was going somewhere tonight. Coincidence as it seemed, Homer being away might give me a lesser possibility of getting caught. Mother was upstairs, going to bed, and I was going to mine. Using the door was not the best option I had. The window in my room was my door. No one could catch me sneaking out.
Especially not tonight. Homer wasn't coming back anymore.
-*-*-*-
The amusement park was full of color and lights. The overlapping noises of pops and horns were overwhelming, but as I ascended deeper into the bustling crowd, I was getting the hang of it.
Children sat on their fathers' shoulders with smiles on their color-painted faces and hats on top of their heads. Teenagers shared loud cackles as soda exploded in their hands. There were stuffed toys on display waiting for children to come get them, their fabric looking soft and smooth to embrace tightly.
I wanted one. Especially the one with the bunny ears, large enough brown eyes, toothless and whisker-less snout, its color blue, so gentle to my eyes.
"Come on, Mari!" Nathalie yelled across the loud ambiance to my ears, grabbing my hand and dragging me to where the rest of the group was in standby.
As we reached them, Mark handed a cone of cookie-filled ice cream to me. "First time here?" he asked.
I almost ignored him. The rollercoaster's thundering noise had caused a skip of a heartbeat. The people who were riding threw their hands up in the air as they joyfully screamed at the top of their lungs. I nodded, feeling the cold ice cream melt and drip on my fingers.
"You plan to come back here?" Mark asked again, leaning closer to speak at the normal volume.
I shrugged. "Definitely not my thing."
"Liar," Nathalie accused, smiling widely. "You love it here!" Her blue eyes shone under the popping colors of the fireworks above us. They shifted over my shoulder, then her face brightened. She pointed a finger behind me. "Look!"
Nathalie clasped my arm and dragged me to a store that sold clothes. The ice cream had melted, urging me to lick around the edges of the cone as my eyes browsed the place. Nathalie released her grip on me and stood by two racks full of vibrant scarves hung in loops. One of them had a limited edition sign on it. She gasped as she found a soothing plain dark red that was knitted with thick wool yarn at the limited edition rack. The scarf had fringes on its ends.
She wrapped the fabric around her neck and turned to me with her eyes smiling in excitement.
I delighted in my ice cream as I scrutinized her. I nodded in approval. "Looks good on you."
"You should have one, too!" She swiftly turned back to the rack.
"Huh? No." I shook my head, approaching her. "Don't got enough money for that. Not to mention, what I got was stolen from my mom."
She crushed her brows as she looked at me. "Then, you keep your money. I'll pay for this."
I grew hesitant. "You sure?"
She turned her attention back to the scarves. "What complements burgundy?" she asked, a finger against her lower lip.
My eyes rose to the ceiling. "I guess beige, gold, yellow..."
She picked out the teal one and threw it around my neck. "This fits you."
I looked for the price tag and was left flabbergasted by the cost. I probably wouldn't be able to pay her back soon. "Why is it limited edition, again? It looks almost like every other scarf on the regular rack."
"Don't be silly; these have pockets!" she whispered in excitement, almost losing control of the volume. I could hear her foot tapping like a penguin.
Then she called for the vendor. Our limited-edition scarves were folded nicely into separate gift bags. The rest of the group waited for us outside the store, chit-chatting about getting on the rides.
Mark grabbed Nathalie's waist and left a peck on her forehead. I heard him whisper, "Having fun, babe?"
Nathalie nodded and lifted her bag to boast.
"Let's ride the coaster!" Isaac yelled. "Who's coming?"
"Me!" Everyone said.
"What's the update on Gwen?" Nathalie asked Alia.
Alia looked down on her phone through her eyeglasses, and she squinted. "She said she couldn't come 'coz she got sick," she answered between ice cream licks.
"And Ivan?" Isaac inquired.
"Oh, he's coming for sure," Andrew replied. "We just had a chat about girls in the park."
Isaac nodded in awkwardness. "Okay. So it's just us for now."
"I'll watch your stuff," Mark offered to the group. "Because, you know, rides kill me."
They might kill me, too. Knowing how loud the coasters were made me want to stay away from them. I finished my ice cream and threw the cone in the nearby trash. Then, I raised my hand to get the group's attention. "Yeah, me too. We'll wait for Ivan to arrive."
"You sure?" Nath asked, holding my hand. She wanted me to come.
"Yeah," I replied. "We'll watch your things."
She pouted. "Okay," she said in a sad tone. Then she gave me her gift bag and kissed my cheek. I could have protested and wiped the wet feeling from my face, but she quickly added, "Mark will take care of you."
The group handed their things over as they began to move. Isaac gave his sling bag to Mark and told us, "You two, stay out of trouble. Guys may hit on girls, and girls may hit on tall, pretty boys like you, Peanut." He winked.
"Call me that again. Let's see whose nuts get cracked after."
Isaac laughed as he left with the others.
Mark sighed, and the group's laughter faded suddenly. As we watched them fall in line, I noticed Mark's fingers tapping endlessly on his belt. Then he finally asked, "I'm bored. What do you wanna do?"
I pointed to the group's things that stood below us on the ground. "Can't leave them here unattended, right?"
He sighed, disappointed. Then he mumbled, "I wanna try the shooting thing."
"You can go. I'll stay," I said.
"Don't you wanna get the stuffed toy you wanted?" He nudged my shoulder.
My eyebrows met, and my lips stretched into a smile. "How did you know?"
Mark shrugged. "You know, I'm good at observing people. You were drooling over that bunny bear for minutes. You could get that particular toy if you scored as many as it costs—fifty or sixty maybe."
"I can't shoot that many. The toy gun has small pellets; you can't almost see 'em fly."
"Then I'll shoot. I'm a good shooter."
I scoffed, finding it unbelievable. "Sixty straight?"
He nodded, proud.
-*-*-*-
Hugging the stuffed animal felt softer and more cottony than I imagined. I petted it like it was alive, staring at its deep brown eyes with much adoration. I never had one like this before.
And I'm pretty sure Mark already knew that. "Better keep that away from the cat," he said.
I scoffed, imagining it destroying the toy. "He's not always home," I pointed out. "Thanks for this, by the way."
"It's nothing." He grinned.
"Still, I feel indebted when you guys spend for me. Nath just bought me a scarf with pockets, and it cost more than I eat in a day. And now this and that ice cream."
"It's really nothing. Don't worry about it," he replied, before shifting his attention to the dashing coaster on track.
Its chugging harmonized with the increasing rhythm of my heartbeat as it slowly became louder and louder as it became closer, until I could hear nothing else but.
I shut my eyes as if I were trying to shut my ears. The sound was so loud that I could feel the ground shake below me. The chug faded into the distance but was later replaced by a ringing, cringing in my ears. I could hear nothing else, still.
Until I felt a rough collision, causing me to open my eyes, almost stumbling. Beside me was a stranger whose face was inches from mine. His eyes bulged with a look of fear. He panted as we locked eyes. His curled, frizzy hair stuck to his forehead, glued by sweat. His hands were aggressively gripping my shoulders. I could see him fidgeting in distress. His lips trembled as his mouth said those words that sent a jitter down my body.
"... We're all gonna die."
It wasn't long until the cops came and forcibly pushed the man into the ground and cuffed him. It wasn't long until Mark pulled me away and confronted the person in distress.
The man, despite his disability, kept shouting, "The world is ending! The world is ending! The dead will rise, and the living will fall!"
Everything went in slow motion as my vision blurred. The voices I heard became ghostly. The words echoed in my mind as if they mattered, as if I had never known about death and hearing of it now scared me. But I did know, and it still terrified me. I was sure that man was under some influence, and naturally, death comes for everyone eventually. It meant nothing more than a factual prophecy. I agreed to that part. But the next one... People say you fear what you do not understand. However, the next words the man said were beyond my comprehension.