All In Yellow

Chapter 25, One fine day

Have ever attended a racecar race? That sounds pretty cool no?
Well there's no need to go there! Just listen to the thumping of my heart and you'll hear it going at the speed of the race car which has won.

All of us maut have seen a movie where the hero is going to catch up to the villian and the villian comes out out of nowhere, and then the hero faints.

You haven't seen the movie? Don't worry! Just look forward.
Trust me, even I haven't seen such a movie but that's what will happen right now.

The simplest difference is that I am not the hero, and Julian is not the villian.
Bummer!

I open the door, my face white...ready. Well if you wanna know the truth,
NOT READY AT ALL.

right in front of me, I see him.
No, not Julian, not even David. Yes, not even Kim.

It's a pizza delivery guy.

Dressed in a red t-shirt, and a pair of comfortable lowers; two boxes of pizzas in hands smiling at me.

"Hi Ma'am, here's your order. The cost would be - "

I have slammed the door shut.
What the hell?

I hear a voice, no not Julian.

"Isn't this the place where I got the order from? And I got the pizza before 30 minutes! Why have you locked me out??"

I open the door. Completely red. Like a tomato. Reddie reddie reddie red.

"I'm so sorry. Here, keep the change." I say, handing over a 50 dollar note.

"But - " he starts.

"Thank you" I manage, grabbing the pizza boxes.
I close the door the final time.

The bell rings again.

Guess who? The delivery boy.

"What?" I ask.

"Ma'am what do you expect me to keep the change from a 5 dollar note?! You can't even get a single small pizza for that much! Do you expect me to keep the change?!" He says, obviously furious.

And I look helplessly at the 5 dollar note I've given him.
Do I imagine zeroes?
Poor kid.

"I'm really very sorry" I mutter and give him 40 dollars; counting the money before handing it.

He scuffs, cursing me all along while going back to the van.
TO DELIVER PIZZAS.

Question for the day -

Can I get some more embarrassed?

Answer for the day -

Yes.

I sigh and bring along some soda. Begging god it doesn't tumble on me and make my pants wet.
So, some time back, I was drinking soda.

Sprite, to be specific...and it fell at the wrong place at the wrong time.

People just kept asking me if I had peed in my pants.
How horrible is that.

I even met a lady who looked at me like I had grown two heads and was grinning at her from the two villian like smiles.
Hope you understand that description. Cause I don't...

One man came up to me, concern evident on his face...and asked me if I wanna see a doctor as it may be A MENTAL DISORDER that I may be imagining things that make me scared and worried...so I really should ask for help.
that man was really lucky that he didn't get a slap on his face.

It would have been fun actually...

So back again, I sit here with two cans of sprite. I like cola more, but Julain loves sprite more.
anything to make him happy today, this treatment doesn't hit everyone everyday.

Sometimes I can't help but imagine how different my life would have been if Shailene hadn't run into some gang business.
I wouldn't have to be living with her parents, being their daughter. Not that I'm complaining; I love them. My adoptive parents weren't so.

yep. This is the first time I'm thinking about them since so long. They weren't bad, but not good either.
You see, my mom was always at work...and why wouldn't she? Who would like to be next to their always drunk husband?

that's right.

Shailene got Mr and Mrs Collins, whereas me?
I got in with Mr and Mrs Parker. They were good at first, then Mr Parker become an alcohol and drug addict, my mom had to take care of the house and began to work extra hard. They never made up time for me...I know it was difficult; but darn! A child deserves love.

Since the age of two, I was ill treated. Mom treated me well, but dad....he was nice, well fine you can say; until he got high. That was a time I loathed.
I suffered.

I never had help from them in my studies.
Shailene helped me.

In every project, in every homework. Whenever I was demoralized that I can't do anything; she helped me understand that concept and helped me lift up my spirits. She always said - 'you could easily do it if your parents helped you like mine at home....and if you paid attention in class'

The last part made me giggle and then I'd run after her and she'd run for her dear life.
Thats how she did it.

Then she was gone.

forever and ever.

I didn't have her to console me. I was alone.

my parents didn't even want me to make any friends. Mr parker actually.
I once brought Kelly (a friend of mine in grade 4) home to play with; but she was made to go out.

That was my childhood.

I was always welcomed at this house. Mr and Mrs Collins took great care of me; they loved me as much as Shailene.
They'd get me toys, dolls, dresses, story books and most importantly love. I loved them and they loved me.

only now.
they don't even know that I'm alive.

Mr and Mrs Parker died in a car crash when I was 15.
I was in the car too, but god saved me as it was a left side front hit. I was seated on the back of the car on the right.

And I didn't die.
But my parents did.

Even after their treatment for me, I cried.
who wouldn't?

I was adopted by them. They took me in when no one else did. They provided me shelter and food when I needed it. They may have treated me horribly, hit me; not care for me, avoid social interactions of people with me...but they were my parents.
and I love them, no matter what.

They did it, unknowingly, but yeah they did leave signs that made me realise that this wasn't one sided love. They never forgot my birthday.
Yeah, they never gave me anything big...but they remembered.

When I was little, they threw me parties. Took me places and gave me gifts.

But soon enough, dad and mom fought and dad got into drinking. Mom was NEVER home. She didn't even call. But when she was home, those days were heaven.
Sleeping on her lap, her singing me lullaby's, eating that delicious pancake with chocolate syrup.

My birthdays.
yes.

Dad even in his drunk state, always gave a donut. A reason I am attached to them; and wished me happy birthday. That was all, but it was well and good for me.
Mom used to call; which made my days super special.

Birthdays were my favourite.

Until now, I don't have them.

I managed out alive, with nothing but a scar which has almost faded away, but they couldn't. The doctor said that they had too much blood loss.

I didn't realise the tear until it escaped my eye.

And I wipe it off.