Unnamed

TWENTY – well, not mine but a home, nonetheless

"You want to tell me why I could not live here?" The hostility in each word made me cringe but I reminded myself that it was needed. The boy currently leaning by my window was not someone I knew. He was not my friend or someone remotely familiar. He was a lie and he had made my whole life a lie.

"It's not safe here."

"That's all? If I can't live here then where am I supposed to go?" Regardless of the churning resentment at his every word, I took out the biggest suitcase I owned and another small bag from my closet. He asked me to pack everything I needed and I had to do it without asking questions. Surprise-surprise!

"I have taken care of that." He pulled away from the wall and started toward me.

"Of course it is taken care of and you didn't bother to ask if I am okay with it." There were a lot more things that I would have liked to say but I settled on, "I am sick of you. You know what, I am not going anywhere." I tossed aside the black hoodie in my hand instead of putting it into a bag.

"If you'd not come then I'd make you come. It's your choice," he said it so calmly and without a shred of remorse that it made a nerve pop on my forehead.

"You son of a b***h! Why you're like this?" I picked up the closest thing to me that happened to be a shoe and threw it at him. Instead of dodging it, he caught it in his one hand. "Why don't you tell me the truth? Won't it make it easier for you too? All these lies and secrets, don't they suffocate you? What kind of man are you?" My eyes brimmed with tears of anger and before I could blink them back, they were trailing down my face.

"You think you can manage on your own?" I gulped down at the aggression in his voice. "You think that you can handle the truth?" He took another step in my direction and the menace in it made me took one back every time he took one forward. "I will tell you the truth," I helplessly stared at him, second-guessing what I had asked. He could always find a way to make me regret my words.

"I did not mean to call you SOB." I apologized hoping that it would calm his anger a bit but he only scoffed.

"The truth is that I was wrong. You're just an ungrateful brat who just care about herself-"

"Dylan!" I gasped from the hurt and the worst thing was that he didn't seem like he wanted to say this to hurt me. He said it like it was an open truth.

"What Dylan? You wanted to know the truth so hear it. You would have been dead if it were not for me coming and rescuing your unappreciative ass. Despite everything, I was ready to keep you with me but you didn't want that too. I brought you here and you again have a pro-"

"That's not true. I just want to know trut-"

"f**k that truth!" He bellowed in my face. Dylan had never raised his voice on me like this. Every other time his anger was calm and even though they were scarier, this one stung more. "Your dad didn't die because of a heart attack. He was murdered. You are standing at a crime scene-"

"Don't lie!" I protested hitting him in the chest with my fist.

"Then go down and look for yourself." He shoved me back by my chest. My leg twisted on a stray piece of clothing resulting me in falling on my butt. Shocked at this new info, however, numbed every other pain.

"B-but why did you lie to me? Why didn't tell me this before?" I whispered looking up at him. Again that sinking feeling, again that chill seeping in my bones, again that sickening feeling in my stomach, again that helplessness of end up being nowhere. I was getting so familiar to them that they just scare me for all the wrong reasons.

"Because... because- f**k!" He abruptly kicked the shoe that he had dropped and it skidded toward me. I flinched aside before it could touch me. "I tried telling you, okay. I am still trying but I can't! If you have not noticed but I am not a big fan of carrying someone else's burden. I've gotten enough of my own."

Paying less attention to the last part, I asked what concerned me, "Why can't you tell?" He loomed over me like a shadow of doom. The dark ink of the night sky tainted the light in his irises. I'd never been fond of his dark moods and right now it was just dampening my spirit of returning home.

He crouched before me and even though, he showed no sign that he was going to hurt me, I scooted away from him. The small preservation instinct didn't go unnoticed by him. Well, who cared? He was the one who pushed me down.

"I don't want to be the one who breaks you." He said it so quietly that I doubted if I heard him right.

"Make this all less complicated. Leave me. I have taken care of myself for seventeen years I am sure I can do it fine. If I am lucky, my mom would let me live with her before I am placed in foster care."

Exhaling sharply, he sat down Indian style and put his head in his hand. Silence engulfed us as we both sat close yet so far in our own thoughts.

Who would want to kill dad? That was my first thought. There were competitions. Anyone could have hired a hitman to do the deed out of jealousy or some f****d up s**t. Actually, it was more believable than dad having a heart attack. My mind wondered if it was Sam. I meant after I fainted she could have done it out of madness or self-defense. And after my dad died, somehow, Dylan took it upon himself to take me away from here. But why? I might never know. I sadly looked at my half-packed bag. I still had to pack my blanket and sketchpad. They were important.

"This whole thing is more messed up than you think," by ' the whole thing', he meant the things I did not know about. He got up from the floor and stretched a hand to help me up. Disregarding it, I got on my fours and stood by myself. "Pack your bags," he ordered without glancing at me. I picked up the first thing that I could reach. I'd rather be somewhere else than packing this bag. When my suitcase was brimming with clothes, Dylan offered to zip it while I picked up my blanket that was still on the bed and folded it neatly in the duffle bag. Then, I went to search for my sketchpad. I found it under the writing desk. How did it end up there? I wiped its black cover lovingly before standing up from my crouching position. I could feel his curious gaze on the notebook in my hand but he didn't question it.

"Is that all?" He asked when I fasten the duffle bag.

"Yeah, I guess." I ran my eyes through the room for the last time to see if I was missing anything. Nothing else I needed from here but a frame with a candid shot of mom, dad and I in our front yard. I picked it up and removed the picture from the frame. "Now, I am done." I confirmed putting the picture in my hoodie pocket.

With the additional weight of two bags, I thought Dylan would need my help but he brushed me off as I tried to carry a bag. He carried the bags without breaking a sweat and asked me to lead. Without him concealing anything for me, I got a full view of the living room. Except for the yellow tapes, dirty footprints and a chalk outline of a body on the floor, every other thing was as I had last seen it.

"Wouldn't they've been wondering about me?" I asked studying the outline of the body. From the odd angles of the limbs, it seemed as if it had fallen from a height.

"I don't know. They're still trying to find the murderer. Who knows, they might think you're with him or her."

"You didn't kill my dad, did you?" I asked without giving much thought to my words. He was wary of being here. He did not want me to contact any of my relations. But if he was the murderer then he wouldn't have brought me here much less leave me alone.

"No, I didn't."

Unconsciously, I let out a relieved breath after hearing his answer. We kept our silence after that. I slowly limped after him on the road that led to the main street where we'd catch a cab too- well, I didn't know now.

"Who are these people?" I asked when we were sitting inside the cab. Outside the window, the sky had started to darken into another evening. The glamour of night was at its peak. The city with stars studded on its street made me feel suffocated in the confines of the cab. I rolled down the window and breathed in the air of home.

"They are kind of family," Then they must be crazy too. "There is school, not as prestige as your last one but still great. You can continue your education, find some job and do whatever you have planned." From the way he sounded, I had a feeling that he could not care less what I did anymore.

"You did not have to do this."

He scoffed before he callously pressed the button on my side to shut the window. "With your record, I doubt you'd last a day without my help." I had no idea what ticked him off to make him act so abrasively. He was being down right mean. I got it that majority of the time our fights started because of my curious self but today he was one little desperate for an argument. "If you have bothered to learn a little about the world instead of depending on someone, I might have not to go through all this."

Deciding to confront him regarding it, I turned in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest, "Why are you acting like that? I didn't ask for your help, did I? No. In fact, I rather you free yourself of my burden and leave. So, do me a favor and stop treating me like I have no self-worth. It's hurting."

That seemed to shut him up. Irked with me he pushed the bag he was holding in my lap. After an excruciating hour, we rolled in the suburban area with somewhat similar small houses lined up on both sides. Our cab came to a stop in front of a small house with yellow walls and maroon roof. While Dylan paid the driver and took unloaded out bags, I admired the cozy house and its small balconies with vines crawling on them. The front door opened and a young girl barged out.

"Ma, Dylan and his mate 're here!" She hollered before dashing back in the house.

"That's Zoe. She's a bit... how to say it? She's always a little shy." He told as he joined my side. I thought it was better of me to ignore him. The door opened again and a woman walked out with a welcoming smile on her face. Her tall and lithe body was clad in a pretty pink sundress while her short black hair was in two braids.

"Dylan, sweet goddess, what took you so long? I thought you were landing this morning. Oh, forget it. Gimme a hug," she skipped toward him and pulled him into a hug.

"Hi, Sayan," he sincerely smiled despite the redness in his ears.

Her eyes that reminded me of sparkling champagne stopped on me and her smile brightened a notch. "And you are Fay. Cool hair. Why don't you come inside? Your cold lasagna is waiting for you." She picked up one of my bag like it was a pillow and escorted us inside.

"We're so excited to have you. I am talking to you Fay," Snapping out of ogling the interior, I faced her. She was silently directing Dylan to where to put the bags. "It gets a little boring between us mother and daughter sometimes. Why don't you sit down? I bet that must hurt." She said pointing a finger toward my broken ankle.

"No, it's good." To be honest, with everything that I was learning, I did not get to focus much on it. Nonetheless, we all moved into the living room. I was trying to get familiar with the family pictures on the mantelpiece and homey wallpaper with small vintage flowers on them when Sayan returned with a tray in her hand.

"I don't know if Dylan has told you but I am his aunt. The younger sister of his mother, to be exact," she told as she put a glass of milk and plate full of cookie in front of me. Dylan who was standing in front of a portrait of a woman perked up at the mention of his name. “Have you met her yet?” she asked with a small snicker as if that was supposed to be some inside joke.

"She would have known it eventually," he said with a shrug as if that was not a big thing. He left the portrait and picked up a cookie, "I've got some work at home and if everyone," from the corner of my eyes I notice his attention flickering to me but I, instead of acknowledging it, kept my head low, "here is comfortable, I should get going."

"Aw, so soon. I thought you gonna stay." Sayan raised on her feet, the brightness on her face was noticeably put out. "Is it really important?"

He paused to order his words before he answered without quite meeting her eyes, "Kind of."

I put down my glass of milk before they slipped out of my shaking hands. I had no idea why this news had such an effect on me. I blamed it on the answers I did not have, the one I wanted before he left. But, then, I was angry with him and I had vowed to never to speak to him again. If luck was on my side, this would the last I'd see of him.

"This has your ID and such. You might need them in future," he tossed the black wallet like thing on my lap. It indeed had my ID, DL that I never used, some odd papers.

Sayan awkwardly cleared her throat to end the stare down between Dylan and me. He was supposed to leave now and I want to say a few words of farewell but we both were reluctant.

"I should tell Zoe that you're leaving. Be right back in a moment," saying that, she disappeared from the room.

Though she could have called her from here, we noticed her intention of leaving us alone so we could "talk" without any hesitation. Dylan picked up his backpack and fished out something from it.

"Since you're starting new, I thought this might help."

I stared at the small box that held a new iPhone probably for me then I pushed it away and glanced up at him, "So that I could remember how ungrateful I have been through this journey? I don't need it. When I'd get a job, I know what I have to get with my first paycheck.

"I d-didn't mean-"

"I thought you were leaving." This was my way to tell him that nothing else was left to talk between us. In the silence where only time was breathing, I knew my words wouldn't do much and he would simply be another memory. I convinced myself that I did not see the hurt and anger at once on his face. I should not care after all the things he had said to me, done to me. I had no idea whose fault my life was but he was right. I wouldn't dare to blame my father, mom was out of the picture, friends had been too nice to hurt and that left only Dylan. Another reason was that he let me to an extent.

"You're right." However, he didn't take the phone back.

I ignored him. Sayan appeared with Zoe by her side. "When you'd return, Dylan?" Zoe asked meekly half-hidden behind her mom.

"I don't know," he crouched before her and, surprising me, flicked her braid in a playful manner.

He wasn't at this ease and open even in front of his friends. "Take care, okay?" He said before kissing her both cheeks and standing. By that time, Zoe's attention had shifted to the walls and she forgot to answer. To Sayan, he just gave a meaningful nod before turning toward the door.

Out of courtesy, I followed him to door with everyone else. He did not once look back but I watched him until I couldn't differentiate between him and the darkness. Sayan wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me inside.

Tonight, I couldn't tell who left whom.