AMACon 3: Oikos Omnibus

Blurry

It feels like even nature is mocking me.

It has been days since I was forced into seclusion in the middle of nowhere, a place I used to call my home now seems like more of a punishment rather than refuge. Even the rain seems to laugh at my expense. It has been days ago but the rain won’t stop; it only settles into a mere drizzle as the gloomy weather continues to envelope everything around me.

I sit in silence at the dining table and look at my Grandma. She’s usually warm when she looks at me like I was the only sunshine in this storm but most of the time I catch her gazing far away as if she was watching the dance of the raindrops or she was waiting for something to happen.

I often see her staring out the window “Grandma? Is everything okay?” I ask.

She looks at me and smiles, a reserved one. “Honey, why don’t you try walking outside? It will be good for you.”

I look at her in astonishment. How could someone convince me to take a stroll in this weather, in a place where I seem to feel like a stranger? But I realize that I feel frustrated, trapped within the four corners of this house. Maybe fresh air would do me well; maybe it would take my mind off things. I notice that she is looking at me expectantly and I simply nod as my response.

The moment I grab my coat and begin an adventure to clear my head, I decide that I would get my mind off things. Walking through Grandma’s backyard gave me memories of years long forgotten; years that were the happiest in my life. I walk towards the tree at the back of her house and try to trace the words engraved there: “My home and my family”. Staring at these words made me tear up once more, it pains me that the feeling never seems to fade away.

“Why are you sad?”

My heart jumps when I hear a voice behind me and feel its presence. I slowly turn around and see  a boy looking at me innocently, the same boy that I saw the day I arrived “Who…who are you?”

He smiles at me “Hi, I’m Johnny. I live right across the street.”

“Why are you even here? Won’t your mother look for you? What are you, 7?”

He frowns at me and crosses his arms across his chest “I’m 10, lady and you seem young yourself too. What are you, 10?”

I raise my brow at him, such a brat. “I’m 13 and older than you, brat.” I start to walk away but he keeps on following me. “Leave me alone”

He looks at me his face blank, eyes unblinking “Why are you sad?”

This kid is really testing my patience. I really want to get far away from him as much as possible but he keeps on following me. “What the hell do you want, kid?”

He looks at me with an innocence that makes me want to punch somebody. “Why are you sad?”

I take a deep breath and try to calm myself “Okay kid listen up, you don’t need to know why I’m sad and if I really am, it’s none of your business. Why don’t you go home and hug your Mom or something.”

“Where’s your Mom?” He asks.
I really want to punch this kid. I don’t care if I get jailed or anything. I really want to punch him. “Why the hell do you care?” I say and walk away from him, following a path of damp twigs and puddles.

I can feel him following me but I continue to ignore the annoying brat. “I saw you that day” he quietly says and I stop to turn around and look at him “By the window of your Grandma’s house. You were looking outside with a sad look on your face.”

I look at him in astonishment, how could a kid like him feel that she was sad that day? More importantly, “How do you know my Grandma?”

He shrugs and says “My Mom is her neighbor for a long time now; I’ve known her all my life. Why are you sad?”

I look at him, turn around as I continue to walk away but still could sense him following me. I got exhausted trying to shoo him away so I relented until a house catches my eye. The intricate white wooden picket fence feels like whoever lives here have perfect lives. She could even smell the fresh batch of cookies as she nears the windowsill. "Who lives here?" I ask little Johnny who was still following me.

Johnny looks at me blankly and says, "Richard lives here with his wife Maine."

I continue to wonder who Jay was as I see a silhouette of a woman walking towards the window; and as I look into her eyes I wonder, why does it reflect sadness and despair?