Chapter Twenty-Three

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Who am I? Let's make it clear.

My name is Karlene R. Miller. Twenty-four years old. Occupation: a biology teacher. I live on my own at an apartment I'm renting for a cheap price. Parents: ... My mother died soon after giving birth to me. They said she was beautiful like the sun, shined more than anything else. Nothing has made me more guilty, I feel as if I was the one who strangled her to death, killing the light of the family. My hardworking father did his best to raise me on his own. He took 4 jobs a day to keep me studying in a good university hoping one day he'll have a teacher for a daughter. He believed that those people who didn't finish their education won't go far in life, told me not to make the same mistake he did before, dropping out of school, then later chase for stability. He said to continue school was the only way to be successful, the only way to get out of the cramped space of the van we had lived in. If it weren't for me, they both might still be alive... I am the fruit of their sorrows and sacrifices.

_____
~Flashback 12 years ago~

My Dad lets me keep a key to the van if ever he's not home by the time I got off of school. I don't know what he's doing always going home late at night.

As usual, I got a glimpse of the quiet van at the very back of the parking lot of the school. It was parked at a corner beside a wall blocking the back and the left side of the vehicle. A gray plastic cover conceals the right side, the front, and the door making it impossible for people to peek inside.

I opened the zipper of the cover to slide the door and let myself in. What we have is a small mattress laid at the back, a stove, and a short counter lined on the side but we still have a space to walk to, and a space to put a carpet on. It's an old one though, it's not soft, but rather hard like the wooden floor. My Dad has to bend his back so his head won't hit the ceiling. I hope one day I won't get as tall as him. It'll be hard having two giants walking inside our tight home.

I threw my backpack on the bed then myself. I put a blanket over my body, my hand searched for the TV's remote control. My eyes are already yearning to watch Nana's Baking Show after a long day at school. That show is my escape from the world! Nana's bread and pastry look like it was made from magic, and I hope one day I get to make stuff as she can.

Even though it was on a DVD, and I've watched and rewatched all the 10 seasons it had since I was a toddler, it never fails to entertain me. I knew all the episodes and lines by heart.

I let it play while I do my homework. Time flies, and I didn't even look outside and notice how dark it has gotten. It's 9:00 pm, and my dad should be here by now. My stomach is growling, and Nana's Baking Show is not helping me relieve it.

I put my book down once I heard footsteps outside. I quickly grabbed my blanket and jumped at the passenger seat and hid behind it then covered myself with the cloth. I listened carefully as the door slides open. I do this all the time, but my heart still beats fast at the thought that maybe it isn't dad that got in, but a random evil man plotting to rob us.

I felt a huge hand lifting the blanket above my head. I had my eyes shut, anxious... Don't look, don't look, I repeat...

Then the hand shuffled my hair, it pets me messing up my long thick hair. I looked up with a single eye opened.

"There you are, buddy!" He shouted. His eyes were tired. It was encircled with dark spots and it sank his skin leaving his eyes bulging. Nevertheless, it was beaming with joy once he saw me.

"Dad!" He kissed my forehead just as I was pulling him into a hug. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat, that when I pulled away, my arms were soaked wet by his shirt.

"How was school?"

"It was great! My teacher said I'll be representing the school for the upcoming science quiz bee this week," I said bragging. "So I have to study extra hard!"

"Oh? Your mother would be so proud."

"You think so, Dad?"

"Uh-hm, she would. So keep it up!"

He held his palm open and I gave him a high five. Now it's time for dinner. We need to set up outside.

I helped my dad pull the gray plastic cover-up and build it to a roof. We had a flashlight as a light source and it was hanging above our heads. See? We're like eating at a fancy restaurant. Except the light blinks because of the moths that pass by it every minute.

Dad brought home half of a roasted chicken and rice for dinner and an apple for dessert. I set up the plates while he got inside the van to change his clothes. When he got out, the table is already set. We ate our food, just the two of us while gazing at the stars outside. It may look lonely, but were not the only ones in this parking lot. We share it with others who live in their cars. Somehow, it gets less sad when you have someone else to share it with. At night, you can see them outside having dinner as well.

"Here bud, eat more." Dad transferred more rice from his plate to mine insisting I eat plenty. "Eat this too," he said as he cuts an apple then gave half of it to me. "You need this to be healthy, then you'll grow up to be a pretty lady like your mom."

"And then I'll marry a handsome man when I grow up!" I added.

That made him sigh, "No." He shook his head. "I'm not gonna hand over my best buddy to a man."

"Do you want me to be an old maid?"

"No, it's not like that- you're too young to be thinking about getting married, is what I meant. What you need to do is eat. Go on, eat."

"You're so confusing Dad."

I got back to eating. Dad isn't a fan of it, he said he's on a diet. That's why he's super skinny. Does he get lonely not having a partner to accompany him on a diet? Even so, he had on a warm smile. That glowing, friendly smile that stays even though he's been through a lot. And for a moment I don't feel like I'm having dinner at a rundown van.

This is home, I feel its genuine meaning when he's with me.
___

He is where I reside. Up until now, I haven't met the same comfort. Neither my king bed nor fancy hotel rooms can compare. And neither all men I've slept with, can fill the void. I feel estranged from my own space. My lungs are always flooded with heavyweights at night when I could not sleep, and I think of that night I only had a thin metal for a roof. And how much happier I was on that narrow space than this apartment I share only with myself.

You never really know how much it matters until it's gone, now I feel so lost.

This stupid expensive mattress doesn't even matter. That lampshade, pfft, we only had a flashlight before but why was it so much fun back then? I want to go back... I don't want to be in here. None of all I achieved so far matters if he's not going to be in here to see it by himself.

Then my phone rang beside my head. Jon attacks when I'm vulnerable. And I am about to give up. I couldn't take this pain in my chest, not on my own. This thickness in my throat is choking me, and every time I gasp for air it suffocates me even more. These tears fall on their own, it's been a habit ever since that bitter night when the funeral flowers arrived as sorry for a life that has been lost that very night.

I just want to feel loved. And Jon, he showed me what it's like to be loved again, without me trying so fucking hard. I don't care if everyone forbids us. I don't care if I'm not interested in him in the slightest bit. I just care about what he makes me feel.

So what exactly can I do about this heart begging to repeat the past?

I'm pathetic, am I? I wonder what my parents think of me now... Would they be disappointed? Mad that I turned into this pile of mess, too weak to stand on my own, have to leech off of someone so taken. Have to wreck something so established. I hate what I've become, a curse. The pain of other people is the price of my well-being.

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