LUCARIAH

The One Where We Sit In Silence

He's here.

He's married.

He's moved on.

Life didn't come to a stand still when he left and I was foolish to think his would. That he'd wallow in self pity for a life that was no longer his to live.

   I let myself indulge in an image of what I wished he would be. This shell of a man walking aimlessly, because nothing else mattered if he didn't have what he had wanted from the start. A family.

   Guess the word doesn't mean much now. Family is whoever you take in and love, not the blood you're connected to. As the saying goes, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

     I'd hoped the expression could be spared from children, but love has no mercy.

    And I was a fool to love him. I'll never make the same mistake again.

   Even now as he sits before me, eyes staring through- not at- me. A hint of longing and sadness lingering in the hidden crevices of his features. But why hide it? Why can't he accept that he wished we'd see one another under different circumstances? Or maybe he preferred we had never seen each other again.

    I chuckled to myself bitterly, his wish almost came true.

   We've sat in restless silence for some time now. My father, his new wife; Lith, she said her name was; and Atticus.

   Juliet's mother collected her the moment it was revealed that I was awake. Claiming I needed time to rest and recover before I could actually entertain or be entertained.

   I don't know where everyone else was and it all honesty... I didn't care. What did it matter anyway? I didn't want to start a conversation even if I could.

   Whenever I felt words build in my throat, they tangled up in a bitter knot. Not a word could slip past my lips. I've reverted back to my old ways, ways I did not let myself remember often- though they were there.

   I eyes dropped to my arm. It broke in two places apparently- what a shame. It wasn't the only injury I managed to endure. They said I had a concussion, with the way the room was swaying I wouldn't doubt them. I had stitches and scrapes in places my body hit the floor.

   More scars added to my ever increasing collection.

  Worst of all...my brace broke. I despised the cartoon cars and the light blue plastic; but it did it's job. I shouldn't have taken it for granted.

  I knew the moment the information was revealed, I wouldn't get a new one. My old one was expensive and my mother managed to scrape up money we didn't even have to pay it off.

   I doubt she'd put in the effort again.

   I swallowed thickly, scrunching my face when I felt the tube running down my throat bob with the motion. The doctors agreed I was too underweight; malnourished; when I refused to eat they resulted to drastic measures.

  Force feeding me until I was good as new. I didn't have the heart to tell them it didn't matter- I'd go home and revert back to my old ways.

   They could pump me with their fancy medicines, prob and prod at me with their high end equipment, and give a list of instructions as wide as the sun, but nothing changes the fact that I'm going to the same four walls that let me fade away the way I have been.

   I'll be the same boy they received; just with one more page added to my story. One more memory I could share with the future generation; tell them about all the times I waltzed with death. And when the day finally comes, he'll welcome me as an old friend.

   What a tragic tale I could tell. If I ever speak again.

  My father parted his lips as though he were to speak before he shook his head and pressed them to a thin line. I wished he would say what was on his mind: he's already repeated the gesture more times then I could remember.

Lith huffed, glaring at her husband. Her husband. Yes. He hasn't been my father for quite some time. "Would it kill you to spit it out already?" She said not unkindly.

Atticus chuckled, his fingers moving across his screen with a swiftness that suggested he was discussing something with someone that meant a lot to him. A number of people probably wondering why they haven't seen him in these past weeks.

The clothes he wore, and the smell radiating off him, suggested he hasn't gone home since the accident.

A sweet gesture, but a part of me still burned with anger when I looked at him. It would have been best if he left me on the street, to rot away like I was just another innocent animal with an unfortunate end.

Though I was anything but innocent.

Evan sighed, looking at a point just behind me. As if it were too hard to look at me. "I just- Samantha...why isn't she here? Why isn't she sitting right beside you, Luca? Is," he hesitated, "is she always like that with you? Was she careless with you? Why are you so thin? Why does your calf have a dip in it? What happened while I- after I-"

He couldn't bring himself to say it. ...After I left you.

I flinched when he mentioned the dip in my leg, the reason behind my pain.

The six year old in me was screaming to the mountains, "they hurt me, dada! The bad men tried to make me nap forever!"

It doesn't matter I was nine when it happened; six year old Luca looks onto his future solemnly and mourns my sadness. Our sadness.

What has become of me?

I could do nothing but stare at him, a question of my own brewing in the deepest pits of my mind. Where were you when it all happened?

  Why weren't you there?

   He can't pick out my mother's faults when he was the first to fail me. The first to walk away. The first to give up on something that could've been great. He should've known Samantha wasn't stable when he packed up his things; he knew about her past, and all the dangers it put us in and he still walked out that door. Protecting everyone but me.

   Just like Cairo.

  I guess she had a type. I just wished it was a better quality she could admire. Like hair color or glasses.

Finally, I shrugged, fidgeting with the tubes and wires resting near my hand. What else could I do? He asked a question with an obvious answer. Why isn't your mother here? Because I'm not important to her- not anymore.

"If I had a kid as young as you are," Lith whispered mostly to herself, "I'd have never left your side. Not even for a moment."

Atticus looked up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at her, "how far do you live?"

Lith's eyebrows scrunched, "um- about two hours? By car."

Atticus made a choked huff sound, turning towards me for a moment, before laughing, "then it's a good thing Crow isn't your kid."

"I-"

"His life is here," Atticus cut her off sharply. My heart plunged; they weren't thinking about taking me with them, were they?