Chapter 3: The past flashback_3
A significant time ago, in a distant flashback...
Seline Marion, her hair fashioned into a classy yet cute bob, fluttered her eyelashes. Her complexion bore a gentle shade of light brown, almost reminiscent of a mixed-race heritage.
Amid her school uniform, Seline's gaze fixated on the wall. Surrounding her were numerous books, and before she rested a picture. She studied it with profound intensity – a woman wearing a smile, and beside her, Seline herself, mirroring the smile. Both adorned regular school attire, standing in front of a towering structure. In the corner of the image, the words "Science for..." were faintly visible. The scene suggested a college setting.
Unspoken tears trickled down her cheeks. Her eyes conveyed a fusion of deep sympathy and lingering regret. She gently wiped her eyes and whispered in a soft, sorrowful tone, "Farewell, Lila. Today marked the 22nd Monday of mourning. Rest assured, I won't forget you. Our secret shall remain undisclosed."
★★★
Seline Marion had just bid farewell to a dear friend, the last time for that year. At 19, Seline donned her former school clothes each Monday as a tribute to her cherished memories and her departed friend.
Abruptly, a loud pounding resonated, cutting through the air. A man, visibly inebriated, appeared at her door. He roughly shoved her aside, inadvertently dropping a cup before collapsing onto the sofa. This man sported rosy cheeks, peachy skin, an inflated belly, and a light stubble peppered with white. Seline stood in the doorway, her nerves taut, and ventured hesitantly, "Papa, it's not feasible for you to visit every month or twice a week, seeking money or lodging on the couch. There's insufficient space—"
Seline's Perspective
His eyes flickered open, and he clamped onto my arm with force, his grip tight. "You... don't dictate terms to me, you mogerfudger. Go to hell, much like your mother..." he spat, thrusting me aside. Tears streamed down my face as I stood there, feeling vulnerable. Then, a foreign surge coursed through me, an unfamiliar anger.
"I'VE HAD MORE THAN ENOUGH!" I roared, effortlessly wrenching my father's arm, and hurling him from the couch. "You... you don't have the right to dictate my actions. You don't own me or this house. Get the hell OUT OF HERE!"
Shaking with fury, I stared him down, my father trembling, his emotions alternating between fear and anger in response to my sudden outburst. In a knee-jerk reaction, he flung a wine bottle at me. Trembling, I felt the frigid glass connect with my skin, shattering into shards that scattered across me.
Agony shot through me, a searing ache that nearly caused me to faint. I clung to a chair, blood oozing from my head as shards embedded in my skin. My father stood rooted, his expression marked by disbelief, before bolting, abandoning the cracked bottle. I cried out in pain before succumbing to darkness.
Upon awakening, my condition had somewhat improved, and the pain somewhat dulled. Attempting to sit up, I encountered resistance and opted to rest, shutting my eyes. Dreams provided solace, a temporary escape from the harsh reality. Contemplating my presence, I caught a nurse's glance.
"Doctor, doctor, she's awake!" she called out, prompting the doctor's arrival and ensuing whispered conversation marked by puzzled expressions.
"I have no idea how you regained consciousness, but you—" he trailed off, scrutinizing the monitor, his confusion evident.
"You should have sustained brain damage, yet you're perfectly fine. You may experience minor discomfort and difficulty sleeping, but you're in good health. This occurrence is unprecedented. You're exceptionally fortunate."
Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital. The realization that I was at Crown Blue Hospital dawned on me. As I journeyed home, I encountered an emptied house.
Pictures and memories were stolen, including the snapshot of Lila and me. Collapsing in tears, I rifled through my nearly empty purse. I was certain it was my father's doing.
Subsequently, I spent days in tears and slumber, skipping school. Then, a resonant knock on my door signalled change.
Miss Carter's Perspective:
"Open up, Marion! You owe rent, and I'm waiting. Open the door, please!" I implored, growing increasingly impatient. This girl hadn't paid rent in nearly a month. Could she expect to evade consequences? Modern teenagers, all of 19 but already behaving this way. I couldn't help my exasperation. "Open the door, Seline Marion, before I resort to calling the police. I'm genuinely concerned." Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing her huddled in a corner.
She looked even frailer than before, a pale shadow of her former self. Clutching a pizza box and an almost empty water bottle, she seemed lost. "You don't seem well," I observed, rushing forward to embrace her, and guiding her to my house. I deposited her in the backseat as though she were a lifeless form, and we embarked on a silent journey. In a hushed tone, I expressed my concerns, my strong Tarenican (American) accent lending weight to my words. "Are you alright, darling? Don't worry about rent. I'm not here to discuss payments. I just want to know why you—." My words trailed off as I observed her.
Upon reaching my house, I provided her with a substantial meal, filling her with food and restoring some colour to her pallor. I left her to rest in my guest bedroom.
The dreams that followed remained a mystery to me, but upon waking, she was clad in fresh clothes. Her complexion had regained some vibrancy, and her physique looked less frail.
Seline's Perspective:
I heard the knock of my landlord on my door, and I weakly opened it. Her initial grumbling shifted into a soft expression of pity and concern. Surprisingly, she embraced me and carried my frail form to her house.
Like a lifeless body, she placed me in the backseat and drove in silence. Eventually, in her resonant Tarenican (American) accent, she softly spoke, "Darling, are you alright? Don't worry, I won't request your rent.
I just want to understand why you..." Her words trailed off, and despite my desire to speak, only whispers emerged. Upon reaching her home, she generously fed me, ensuring I had my fill. I drank water and then drifted to sleep in her guest bedroom.
The details of my dreams remained elusive, but upon waking, I found myself in her house, dressed in new attire. My skin had regained its healthy brownish-white hue, and my body didn't appear as gaunt. Opting for the clothes she provided, I embarked on school with my limited funds.
It was then that I discovered my purse contained an unexpected treasure – 30 £5 and £10 notes, along with some coins. The realization nearly brought me to tears. I had always perceived my landlord as an austere and rude woman, always nagging. Who would have thought she possessed such generosity?
Upon arriving at the school gates, my red hair cascading in luscious curls and donning a black coat, I observed the typical crowd formation: geeks huddled in one corner, and popular students clustered in another. Among the latter group was Lucas Max Rolland, the epitome of popularity and attractiveness, capturing the hearts of countless girls. Except mine, of course.
"Hi Angela," I greeted.
Angela responded with a hint of sarcasm, "Oh, hi Seline. Look, it's the Rolland guy. I genuinely don't understand why he's the object of every girl's fascination. I mean, sure, he's new to this school, but let's be real. He's no competition for someone as pretty as you even though he has amazing purple hair, smooth white skin, and captivating blue eyes..." Her voice took on a dreamy tone as she gushed.
"Come on, admit it. You're into him too. Girl, you're a hypocrite." Amid our shared laughter, I collected my books and proceeded down the hallway.
Approaching the door as the clock struck three, I headed for the science room. Inside, I noticed a familiar purple bob – Lucas, the newcomer. He exuded genuine happiness, unlike the usual façade of fake smiles he wore around his friends. Upon spotting me, his smile vanished. Entering awkwardly, I spoke in hushed tones, "Apologies for the interruption. I'm here for Mr. Amendez's science tutoring... and you?"
Lucas scratched his neck, displaying a vexed expression, and kept one hand in his pocket. "Same as you," he muttered.
I ventured hesitantly, "Is it alright if I join you?"
Mr. Amendez welcomed the notion, "Certainly, come in. Find a seat, Marion." He suggested we introduce ourselves while he left momentarily to fetch some equipment. "I need to retrieve a Bunsen burner, a few funnels, and other items. Behave yourselves, as Mrs. Key'O Conor is conducting an after-school test. I'll be back shortly," he said before exiting the room.
Left in an awkward silence with Lucas, who was noticeably taller, I swallowed hard, attempting to weather the discomfort. Lucas leaned in close, his polished face almost close enough to make out minute details. With a smirk, he inquired, "Seline, why are you here? I thought you weren't a fan of science, according to what Kevin told me." My nerves made my reply tremulous, "W-well, shouldn't popular people like you be in the basketball club or something?"
Lucas reclined, sporting an uneasy expression, "You're brave. You possess true passion, even if it meant losing everything in a single night." His gaze seemed to pierce through me. I clenched my teeth, containing my emotions and keeping my tears at bay.
I couldn't afford to lose my temper. Responding resolutely, I shared, "Kevin must have informed you. He always relays the same cycle. It's what happened to me. When you're as popular as I was, there will always be someone aiming to tear you down. Even a best friend can transform into a deceitful betrayer."
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