08 : the murder

KAMIL PRACTICALLY KICKS ME OUT OF HIS HOUSE. He would defend himself by saying that he was doing it for me, but I would not buy his lie. Just kidding. I understand his motives, but that does not mean I have to appreciate them. I never expected Kamil to be such a, well, decent person. Even while kicking me out, he has some kind of remorse in his dark eyes. I almost melted, then he wished to not see me for a few days or, if possible, years. My melted form froze back up again. Maybe not much of a decent person, but it was something that warmed my heart. A feeling I do not feel with Elliot these days.

But I could worry about me and Elliot later. I switched on my phone to see billions (8) calls from my sister. I exhaled before tying my faith to having no fast food for a month. When I reached home, the clock struck 6 in the morning. The light from the kitchen is pouring out on the passage floor. My mom is sleeping on the chair with her mouth out, and my other mom (Val) is mindlessly scrolling through social media. The moment I step into the room, I get knocked on the door by a hug.

"Woah, tiger. I am alright."

Valerie pulls back before squinting her eyes. "Where the fuck were you? Do you understand how worried we were, Avery?" She hits my arm, almost knocking me off. "Mom was minutes away from calling the police."

I roll my eyes at her words: "Yeah, but did she? She literally does not give a fuck. I am going to go change before she gets up in my ass. You go to sleep."

"You really don't understand this, Avery, do you?" My sister shot me a look, stopping me. "Mom pays the bills even if you hate her. She does everything she can for us. We live in one of the richest neighborhoods. I studied at the best medical college, and you will also receive the best education because she cares. Can you think about someone else who's not you? I do realize that isn't there for us, but Avery lives alone, so she could give us the life we probably don't even deserve."

"Bro, why are we even talking about it?" My eyes darted at the kitchen where she sat awake to the words of Val. My sister seemed to understand and rushed to fill a glass. Before making my way up, I called her out, "I am going to go and freshen up. Don't make me breakfast. I ate at a friend's."

When the burning, hot water touched my skin, it jolted me into consciousness. I take a deep breath before I let my skin turn red. Dad would be so angry if I disappeared like this. If he were here, he would take away my phone and ground me for a month. But at the same time, there wouldn't be a chance to do this. If dad were here, I wouldn't have to go to a party to clear my head. He was always present. For me, at least. That was when I wasn't out. Dad loves his youngest daughter, and I love him back. Mom and I would still fight when he was here, but dad would convince me to make up with him.

I try to recall the last time I saw him. When was it? He moved out of the house before even mom got custody to have me and Val. I did not even go to the court because I had a state-level lacrosse competition. That was the last day Val saw our dad. She loved Mom more, and she always wanted to be independent and intelligent like her. My dad was kinder and more emotional. He would sway if I cried too much for a little treat. Mom would never budge. I remember Mom always being angry, with a stoic expression on her face that only Dad could melt. But even that effect started to fade as I reached adolescence, and I never asked why.

After the bath, I head downstairs. Mom still sits on the kitchen table. She opens her mouth, but I cut her off before she even gets a chance to speak a word. "Why did you and dad divorce?"

Valerie pokes her head from the other room and says, "Avery."

"God, Val. What the fuck?" Mom flinches upon hearing me curse, "You want to make up with me, right, mom? At least tell me why you and your dad divorced. I am seventeen, and I don't know why my parents parted ways. Even a thirteen-year-old should know why their parents aren't with each other anymore. Why don't we have Dad's address or contact information? For fucks sake, I loved my father, and I don't even know if he is alive anymore or not."

Mom takes a deep breath. I notice her hands for the first time, resting on her temples. A common trait that she shares with her firstborn. Her hands are wrinkled, with burn marks on her wrist. Has she been cooking? When we used to live together, only dad was the cook. He taught Val to cook when she was 13. Mom's hands shake a little; she always had hypotension. I ignore it, but still, my heart drops a little. Maybe I have also been too tough on her.

Mom chuckles, "You are right; we never actually told you why the divorce happened. We did not want to drag you between our fights."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard." Val takes a seat beside me.

Mom rests her hands on the table. "Well, do you remember our old house's neighbor, the Alister family?" I nod. "Almost everyone knows that Joe Alister was murdered by his wife. I testified about it in court because I saw it."

"Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes, Avery. You see, Mr. Alister was a bitch. He would come home drunk at night and be abusive to his wife in front of their children. His wife, Camila, was good friends with us. Whenever her husband would come home drunk, she would spend the night at our house with her kids. It all happened over the summer, and you were too young to see that, so we sent you to Grandma for the summer. Joe did not like this; he started believing Camila was seeing your dad, despite the fact that I refused those claims. One night, he showed up to work drunk, and his boss fired him. He drank even more with his friends. He was completely wasted when he got home. Seeing this, Camila started to leave the house, but he harmed his own son and broke his arm. He was about to hurt Camila as well, but his other son killed his dad out of self-defense. We heard the sound and rushed to their house to see Joe bleeding all over. I took their son to the hospital while your dad and Camila dumped the body in the lake."

"Woah."

"Hmm, when the police found his body, your dad was arrested for helping with the murder because it was obvious who murdered Joe. I was scared, and since this is a small town, everyone started isolating us because of this. I argued that we should say the truth and get ourselves out of it. We were not the murderers; even Camila agreed to this. But your dad didn't. At court, Camila took all the blame and said that we were not involved in this. Your dad got out of jail, but he was still traumatized by the incident. He was not the same; he started getting angry over little things and spiraled into depression. I tried my best to help him, but months turned into years, and he asked for a divorce." Her voice broke. Yeah, I have been too hard on her. She continued, "Val was in her senior year; we needed money for her fees, but your dad quit his job. I wasn't working well at the time. Everything was sh*t. In those years, our love almost died. I did not know your father anymore; day and night, he would think about Joe, and I couldn't deal with it anymore. I agreed to it."

Mom gave too much information, but I still couldn't understand one thing: "Mom, why did you neglect me all these years?"

"No answer justifies this, but you remind me of your dad. I mean, you look and act exactly like him."

Val nods. "You even walk like him."

"Well, that's embarrassing; your dad has the worst walk. I still love him; there is not a day I don't think about him. But it hurts me to remember him. But what is done is done. I can only apologize and be better. Also, I came back because I got transferred back here. So now I can be here for you."

Val chuckled beside me, the environment turning light as warm and soft sunlight poured in. Mom dropped the bombs way too early in the morning. I am not sure how to even digest all this information. So, I ask the obvious, "Where is dad now?"

"Somewhere in South Dakota. Watertown, maybe. His family house was still there; that's all I know. He was working as a high school teacher when we last talked. That was 2 months ago." I still have a lot of questions. Did he ever ask about me? Is he married again? Is he well? Why did he never contact us? But I don't think I want to know more about it. I don't know how many more truths I can handle this morning, which I might even forget because I am so sleepy on the kitchen table. And so is Val. I even have to head to school in an hour. Lord, why does anyone even keep a party on Thursday night? But that's how things work here. Whenever parents leave, there is a party. It does not matter if we have finals tomorrow or even just school. A party is a party, and people always find good reasons to attend them.

But the best thing is that I am scoring full marks on the assignment. Ms. Blatt has to give me full marks because I have done all the work of finding out. I excuse myself from the table, saying that I need to leave to get ready for school, even though I have to call Kamil and let him know this since he is in charge of making the presentation.

The second I enter my room, I call Kamil, telling him all about the murder. I leave my family out of it. I don't tell him the name of his wife, and I ask him to leave out the guy's name as well. We were definitely insensitive about this topic before. He laughs and replies that he is way ahead of me; he is also almost done with the presentation. His classes start today at 10 o'clock, while mine start 2 hours before him. While Ms. Blatt's presentation is due two lectures after lunch, we bid each other goodbye, and there is a smile on my face when I end the call. It was not a bad morning since mom cooked me breakfast (it was only a toasted sandwich and taho). The smile never leaves my face.

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