Chapter 2: The Stars
I climbed up to the terrace, sat on the edge gazing up at the night sky. "Aren't the stars too bright, Pete? Who do they shine everyday for?"
And I just watched the stars as they twinkled far away from where I were. I had always had a hard time with people and I didn't have friends. Just this guy named John Kessler, who sits beside me, could be called my friend. We don't hang out, like I ever hanged out ! But he was a mate. Kessler, like kids would sometimes give me candy sticks his uncle bought from Germany or chocolates from South Korea. They had some kind of business export. But I'm glad I have Pete. Oh no don't get me wrong. He doesn't exist. Or maybe he does actually, on the far end of the world, or maybe just down the street, I do not know. But the Pete that I write letters to is my imaginary friend. I write him letters even though I know he is never going to get any of them. Writing makes me feel good. It makes me feel as if I am talking to someone, and since there is never an actual Pete to reciprocate the conversation, I just imagined Pete being a great listener. At times, I even said things out loud, as if I were talking to Pete, as if Pete actually was there, listening.
Silly – silly me !
A sad-to-the-core teenager, who doesn't even know what teenage life tastes like; a picture of misery. That is me – Ben Clark!
No friends, no parties, no smoking, no girlfriends, no making outs, no getting drunk, no driving at 120/ at 2 in the morning – blasting the radio, no sleeping at my man's house. My life is all about seeing mother cry, watching porn for entertainment and then seeing mom cry again, and yes, fighting with my own damn mind.
*snap*
I closed my fist, as if I were trying to catch the star up there. I opened my palm to find a single dandalion seed in the centre of it.
"Make my life easier, just so i don't have to hate it", I blew the seed away.
I lay down, right where I was sitting. My legs hanging from the roof and my hands stretched above my head. I let out a sigh. The one that says FML out loud.
Was my life always this bad? It was recently that I realized it sucked. At 16, I was supposed to be living my best life, but here I was, up alone under the dark sky, lying on the ground, motionless, staring blankly at the stars. Even they weren't as still as I were.
There, in the dead silence of the night, under the brightly lit sky, I just wished, I just wished I wasn't Ben Clark. I just wished my father didn't abandon us. I wished my mother loved me a little more. I sometimes doubt if she loves me even one bit.
I doubt how long she would be sane. She gives me bad vibes. Sometimes, when she comes back from work, she reeks of alcohol. Sometimes, she sleeps on the floor near the couch with her uniform still on, her tie hanging loose around her neck.
I don't want to be a billionare or have tonnes of girlfriends. Money ain't no problem. Yeah, my mom is the CEO of a multinational corporation called The Fray. My dad was an engineer. Mom works hard. And during those hours of her days, just during those hours, I feel a little relieved because mother never cries in front of the society and I know it. Whatever she was going through, she put on a strong act to hide it all. But at home, when at home, one could see how that incident 12 years back had tore her apart, that she couldn't get herself together even now. That the wounds he left are as fresh.
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