The Breaking Point

Chapter 3

Mark ran as quickly as his legs could carry him, repeating his dead best friend's address over and over again until he reached the familiar apartment. After a deep breath, he dared enter through its glass doors and into its elevator. He pressed the circular button marked with a standard six and waited. The doors closed. The elevator started moving, humming a barely audible repetitive tune. It stopped moments later and the doors opened. Mark took another deep breath. The elevator opened onto a large hallway with one door at the very end of each side. Mark turned right, walking slowly with even steps. The door was open a crack. Mark gave a soft knock and crept inside.

Nearly the entire corridor was aligned with shoes, all different shades of black and gray. Mark took off his own and tiptoed further down the corridor. The living room was crammed with men, possibly relatives and friends of Axel's father. They were all identical twins, differing only in their tie shape and hair and eye color. Even from the edge of the room, Mark could make out Axel's father in the middle of the crowd, with only his blue and white hair bobbing up-and-down every now and then, in the midst of the black sea. Mark wanted his approach to be silent and unnoticeable. He'd just slip in, mutter his apology and slip out. Then he would be out of this. Then he'd be able to go home. Then he'd sleep. And then....and then....and then. The list could go on forever. However, destiny took one look at the captain and noticed that his life wouldn't be all that easy.

The first man Mark came across froze, the second just stared. By the time he had reached his fifth weird-reactions man, everyone else had stood aside, giving him his own private aisle all the way to Axel's father. Mark walked silently, keeping his head low to avoid all eye contact. He reached Axel's dad and before anything, he bowed. "Mr. Blaze, I'm so sorry."

Axel's father looked at the boy and narrowed his eyes. "Mark Evans, isn't it?" Mark rose from his bow and gave a small, single nod. "You came to me an year ago at the hospital, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Mark mumbled, secretly amazed that the man remembered their encounter.

"You told me that Axel loved soccer, that the team really needed him, and that I don't understand how important soccer is to him."

His voice suddenly switched from calm to furious. "But it was you who didn't understand how important Axel was to ME! This sport has done my family nothing but harm; putting Julia into a coma and now killing Axel."

The sentence shook Mark's heart. "You're a murderer. You promised to keep Axel safe but all you did was take him away from me, you bloody killer."

Mark looked down, tears forming in his eyes. "I want you to stay away from my chil-"

"Maaaark," a childish voice yelled.

Julia rushed up to the goalie and hugged him. Mark bent into a kneeling position to hug her properly. She buried her face in Mark's shoulder and the goalie tightened his grip on her. They both started crying on each other. "Julia, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Axel in any way .It was my fault," Mark sobbed, dampening the girl's black dress.

"I should've caught the ball. Axel knew I wasn't gonna catch it so he ran back to get it. Then the ball hit him and he fell down. He wasn't breathing or moving and it was all my fault. I'm so sorry. I'm supposed to be a goalkeeper and I failed. I let everyone down."

There was a millisecond's worth of a pause before Mark murmured the final sentence in his best friend's sister's ear "I let you down."

Julia just wept silently onto the goalie's shoulder. "I can't believe I let this happen. I'm so sorry."

Axel's father stood speechless, eyeing his son's captain and his remaining child. He knew the kid was pressured but that didn't mean he was going to forgive him that easily. His gaze drifted over to his daughter in a nice black dress, its top now dampened in tears. Julia seemed to forgive the goalie for killing her brother or she didn't believe he was to blame. "I'm sorry," Mark murmured into the girl's ear before standing up. He offered Axel's father another bow and turned to leave.

"Wait." He felt a tug on his pants and turned to see the tiny girl, looking up at him hopefully. "You'll come to the funeral, right?"

Mark didn't know how to answer. He didn't know anyone was having a funeral, considering the fact that Axel's corpse was actually still in the Liacott Islands, waiting to be shipped to Japan.

"There's a funeral?" Mark asked, against the better judgment.

Axel's father glared at him, pulling Julia's shoulder to part their connection. "Yes, when we receive ... the... body..." he hesitated slightly before continuing. "And you are most definitely not welcome to attend. Now leave."

The words were harsh and Mark knew very well that they weren't meant to be otherwise. He left silently, leaving behind a tearful Julia and an icy atmosphere.

Mark trudged along the road quietly, tears dripping onto his messed up suit. He felt strangely empty inside, a mixture of sadness and longing-and maybe hunger as well. He slipped his phone out of his pants' pocket and turned it on. Apparently, everyone he knew had decided to call or text him the second he decided to turn his phone off in the elevator. According to his screen, he had more than 56 notifications, and not even a full 1% of them came from those lousy apps that send pointless notifications just to bug you.

Mark pressed the home button and typed in the password. The second he was in, he took a look at his missed calls: tons from his foreign friends and even Jordan. Of course, his mother had called over a dozen times as well. Mark pressed on the WhatsApp next, sighing as soon as he saw the number of texts he had. He opened one chat at a time, scrolling through the new messages quickly to see if any of them were of any importance. He started with 'mom'. His mother had sent him about 20 texts but they were all repetitive ranging from 'sweetie, are you OK?' to 'food is ready'. Mark decided he'd reply later.

The next few texts were from Hector, Fideo, and Erik on behalf of the rest. They were all basically asking if he was OK and whether he needed anything or not. "Good friends," Mark mumbled, while reading Erik's  final text, although he didn't reply to those either. There were a couple texts from Jordan, also checking up on him. If anything was new, it was a text from Nathan. With slight interest, Mark pressed on the chat marked 'sonic boom' and read through Nathan's rather long message:

'Hey Mark

I hope you're doing OK. Almost everyone I called either burst out crying on the phone or didn't pick up. That's why I'm texting you. Jordan came over early this morning. He told me something about an info leakage and Axel's death being intended. He also mentioned it being Archer's fault. I think he must be joking. Archer would never even think about doing this. It's kind of sad Jordan would suspect him. Anyway, I have someone else in mind. I don't want to upset you. Well, call me or text me back when you get this. I wanna tell you in person.'

Mark blinked and read it all over again. A small smile crept onto his lips. It was nice knowing that there was someone else that didn't suspect his friends right off the bat. He sent Nathan a quick text back: 'sorry, I'm on my way to yours right now.'

He ran towards Nathan's with his newfound energy. Things were actually starting to get better.