Last Hope

Chapter 1

Eight months, two weeks and five days.

5:48 am. For the hundredth time for the past hour or so, I've been glancing on the wall clock as if it could make the hands of it tick faster. This had been my life ever since I came back from the city. I would start the day by eating breakfast with my family, go to church for my four-hour service, go straight to work as a manager in a local coffee shop and drive my way back to our house as soon as we close.

It had been a boring, old routine, to be honest. It feels like I am forcing myself to do something that goes against my own will. I don't have a choice, though so I made a mental note to at least try to look as if I am enjoying whatever it is that they ask -or order- me to do. Although I've done my fair share in masking my true attitude and thoughts towards the abrupt and drastic change in my pathetic life, my parents still somehow noticed me fake it and saw right through me which lead them to the spectacular decision to spice things up a bit- 'for your own benefit,' I quote. With that being said, my parents asked the pastor if I could take a break every weekends so that I could 'spend some quality time' with Sam. So ever Saturday morning, instead of starting with my usual routine, I have to go to the bus stop to pick-up Sam.

Basically, I am back to square one; living under my parents' supervision as if I'm some rebellious and angsty eighteen year old that is going through some phase. There are times where I would just lose it at 2 am and I would think of packing up my stuff and leaving this hell hole but of course, the logical side of me always wins. I have to constantly remind myself of the sole reason why I agreed on going back in the first place: Vic.

To say that he never crossed my mind since I left him in such a dismal manner would be the biggest fucking lie that I would ever say. Not a day would pass by without me anguishing about him or the mere thought of him. There are nights where I would shot up from my distraught and uncomfortable sleep, shaking away the look on his face that I last saw as our car whipped past his limping frame. It's a constant mind struggle. No matter what I do to try to forget it, to attempt to erase him from my messed up head, they're all put to no use. It's somehow etched on a certain part of my brain, torturing me as it plays repeatedly and torturously during my sleep.

I wonder what he's doing. I wonder if he's doing okay. I wonder if the ragged-looking yet cozy and comforting ambience of his bar changed in a span of a few months. I wonder if he decided to do a different style with his hair. I wonder if he still has this thing for clothes with animal prints. I wonder if he still have that colorful hoodie that I really like. I wonder if he's still too stubborn whenever he wants something. I wonder if I ever crossed his mind. Because really, he had been occupying mine.

With those being laid out on the table, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that maybe, just maybe, some mythical force would be kind enough to let Vic and I's paths cross eventually. I mean, is that really too much to ask for? I know that it has been eight months and I am aware that a lot could happen and change in such a short time but I still somehow managed to hold on to that daydream. It may seem impossible but I still think about the things that I would say to him if ever I get to see him somewhere.

Call me obsessed or whatever but, I just crave him so much. I miss his warmth, his hugs, his hands, his nose ring, his scent, his hair- everything. As crazy as this may sound but not even my girlfriend was able to do this to me and we've been dating from six years. Yes, we're still dating. I mean, kind of I guess. She thinks we're dating, my parents thinks that we're dating, my brother thinks that we're dating, the pastor thinks that we're dating, the whole goddamned community thinks that we're dating. Do I think the same way? No. And that unchanging fact never fails in making me feel like the biggest jerk in the world. I mean, relationships should have this mutual feelings thing going, right? In our case, it's a one sided thing. It's a cruel thing to admit but it's true. I can't keep on lying to myself because that's the biggest truth.

I know that I am an asshole for treating Vic as if he had no feelings. Hell, I threw strident words after words to him within a snap of a finger. I basically broke his heart right in front of him and the worst part is, I acted like I meant all of it. I had to show him that I actually am certain with what I was saying and doing.

Since that scene, I've always hated the thought of my parents having full control of me and my every life decisions but did I ever do something to stop it? Did I stood up for myself and fight for what I felt? No, because I didn't have a mind of my own. I chose to live under their strong grasp. I chose to live this kind of life yet, here I am, regretting everything that had been going on with my life.

The mind-bugging fact that my phone is securely under my mom's watch is what bothers me the most. What if Vic still tries to contact me? Although I highly doubt that one. He should've given up a few weeks after I left. I mean, it's not like I've been expecting for him to wait for me because it would be put to no use anyway. I know that I'd be staying here for a long time or forever, even. To my parents, I just committed the biggest and the most unforgivable sin that a man could ever commit themselves in to. Sad to say that I wasn't informed that it's a sin to have feelings for someone who had been treating you as if you're the most precious thing that anyone could lay their eyes on.

I've been a wreck but I have to show off this façade that I am more than okay. I have to show everyone that I am happy to be back in this dilapidated place. I have to show everyone that I am still the same person when deep inside, I am just a continuous car crash, waiting for someone to help me clean up the mess that I chose to make.

I try to convince myself that everything would eventually work out. I have to hold on to that thought because it could either make or break me, you know. Every day, I would just sit quietly and think of all the possibly great things that are and should be happening to Vic because he deserves every ounce of happiness that he could get. I've wrecked him hard enough to take away the littlest things that could make him happy. And if I could really just turn back the time, I really, willingly, without a doubt would.

Unfortunately, time seemed to tick by rather faster than usual as I heard the birds finally chirping from outside my window. It's Saturday today which only mean that I should be ready to go by seven am to pick up Sam. Deciding that thirty minutes should be more than enough time for me to get myself together, I decided to lazily fix my bed, grab a fresh set of clothes and head over to the shower, bracing myself for whatever surprises this weekend has to offer.