Published: July 28, 2023
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Bonnibel relied on her feelings, and let them dictate what she would do or the things that she could have done.
She can't help it. Feeling above thinking, that's what she goes by. Her mentality is destructive, she even almost lost her life over it.
She's a victim of a good heart, she believes that everyone has redeemable traits and everyone can be fixed and saved from all the wrongdoings that they have done in the past.
She was "that" good, they say and that killed her.
I didn't know her until that day so I can only rely on the telltale stories of those people who met her before me. Their stories were good, too good to be called real but maybe they were right. I just wish I could have met her before. I could have done something to prevent her from drowning and me coming right after her on that Sunday evening.
I know something inside her broke that day. It's subtle, nobody notices except for me. When I saw her every day after I saved her, contrary to what they believed she was doing fine, I still got a glimpse that she was broken beyond repair.
"Ian,"
I was lost in my trance. The pen that I had been holding had blotched the paper where I was transcribing my thoughts for the day. I watched the ink grow bigger as it seeps onto the paper, covering most of what I had written so far.
I turn my head to Florence. She had that tired look that gestures what was to come. Though it's expected I still felt my heart drop with the thought that Aunt Arya is here.
"Come downstairs." That's all my sister said before turning around to tend to my frigid aunt.
I guess nothing changed. Same old Aunt Arya that seems to suck everyone's energy when she's around. I bet Hugo won't be too thrilled to see her since we kind of hid the news that she'll be arriving to prevent him from running away just to avoid his mother-stepmother.
I placed my pen down. No point trying to save what I have written. It's better that way because I don't think that girl would appreciate that I think she can't be helped.
I stood up and came immediately eye to eye with myself with the mirror hanging above my desk. I look disheveled. I suppose I could try to look decent but even if I do that, my Aunt still has something to say like, I look fat.
I am not, mind you.
"That bitch won't take me down this time." I reminded myself after she made me develop anxiety. That's nothing compared to the trauma she gave my cousin.
I turned with my head held high and marched towards Hugo's room next to mine. I knocked three times, waited for a moment then knocked again and called his name.
He didn't answer.
I turned the knob on his door, it was locked. I frowned and started to be suspicious. "Hugo." I raised my voice a little thinking that maybe he was asleep.
No response. I took a few steps back. Indifferent, since I knew this would happen. Our rooms faced the front of our house which means he must have seen his mother's vehicle and bolted. I should have been more alert and kept close attention to him than stressed over a person I barely know.
I heave a sigh and spared no time as I ran.
My footsteps were loud and caused discomfort to my aunt's "fragile hearing" as she'd say once I reached the living room where they were having tea. My sister had her eyebrows raised but did not say anything and continued to sip from her cup while my aunt started with a good old sermon before asking about my cousin's whereabouts.
