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21. "betrayers"

Section Scarlet's Pulseless Heart

By Shyne KamahalanPublished 2 years ago 11 min read
2
21. "betrayers"
Photo by Zetong Li on Unsplash

Are the good memories you hold with someone when they go away a blessing or a curse?

It sounds terrible to ask, I realize that. Heck, it sounds like it shouldn't even be a question that a human should fathom. A person should easily know that the goodness of the past when a person goes away is all they have left to remember that person, to hold them close, and without having to debate, without having to wonder, they acknowledge it as fact that it's a blessing. But if you think about it long and hard, is it really?

Sometimes, I think, the idea of nostalgia is a curse, in the way that when it comes to you, it curses you as a person entirely. It strips you of your identity, of the hobbies you once enjoyed in the present, of the activities you once had a passion for, and it swirls down into nothingness -- why? Because all you want to be is the person you once were, when who you lost was with you and when you were still able to see firsthand how that person made you who you are.

You got to look into their eyes and see the person's stories directly from the light they put in the air, and now, with nostalgia being what you think is keeping him alive and keeping you alive, is the constant reminder that you'll never hear those stories again. His jokes and his humor -- it died with him, and now you -- you're dying too.

And then what? How do we go about our life from there?

We're nothing more than human beings. The same people that grew up to ask "why" to our parents about everything when we were children, and though we like to act like we grow out of that, like the day comes that what we don't know we don't care about, it's a lie. We don't grow out of that. We always wonder the reasons behind the things we can't understand, and with this, it's not any different.

We believed that there was a reason that we met the people we met, and we start to assign ourselves to search for what those reasons are -- we take notice how our association changes us for the better, and when they go away, it burns how something does when it's far too cold, but in our quake of every organ and every bone. It's withdrawal from addiction, but a kind of addiction that was good to us until it had to fall apart.

Tell me, sick, sick, world, why are we missing the glue that keeps us together? Why are we deprived?

I knew Ryan well enough. Not perfectly, but well enough, and when I say that, I don't mean nonsense like his favorite color, his favorite food, or his dream destination on some bucket list. I knew him in the way that I could look at him and nothing more and just know what was on his mind -- if he was happy or if he was sad, excited, or furious, and he didn't have to smile or frown for me to know. We were comfortable in one another's silence.

Yes, I knew him well enough, but I should've known him better. I should've had more time. He should've had more time. It should not have been cut off because of someone else's anguish.

"Well, I know we still don't know whose behind this and that the police haven't given us any more information to make us feel any better about this but--," Nova briefly lulled as she explored her sentence further in her own depths. A piece of her was afraid she would be judged for saying anything before she even said it, but if she had to muster up courage, boldness, faith or whatever else to get it out, she did it. "But you guys want to say goodbye to Ryan? To say what we want to say to him? We didn't get the chance to before -- I mean, we didn't know, and he's gone already. It could be more for us than for him though -- doing that. Closure, possibly? I don't know if it'd help."

"What do you mean? So we'd be saying goodbye to someone whose already left us?" Jared questioned, dead pan. Nobody could tell if he was looking down on the idea or if he approved of it, but when he scooted slightly nearer to Nova to hear her out better, it didn't look like he meant any harm. Still, she flinched at the interaction. She didn't move away from him. but she sat there, drumming her fingers against the knuckles on her opposite hand, lips sealed for a few.

"I just thought we needed it. I thought it could do us some good. Most of us have been sitting in the dark recently," she mumbled softly. Subconsciously, she began to think about what we lost that can never be gained back, and she sat back up against the wall, listing things off. "Wouldn't it be nice to remember when life wasn't this way so we can take a breather? Like in the days Ryan would walk through a doorway and he could magically light up the entire room? How he would hide his face when he came into the room we met in if he wasn't the first one in there, because he didn't like the extra attention? And how he had a habit of looking down whenever he laughed while he combed through his hair with all ten fingers? It feels like such a simpler time and it wasn't even that long ago."

The girl was in love. She still is, though she never had the position to love him that way and even though I didn't want to remember -- even though I didn't want to go back in time, I decided I didn't want to leave her hanging and that it could be best to join her, despite what I was allowing myself to believe. It was beginning roughly because of Jared, and because nobody else was adding on, I put myself up to the podium.

"He stayed at my place once," I started under a laugh but it stayed for longer than I thought it would. In the beginning I meant it -- it was a beautiful thing to look back on. In the end, it was to hide everything else that I felt when I found where I'd locked my memories.

"He just showed up at my doorstep out of the blue one day and asked if he could have a place to rest. It was super awkward at first -- neither of us had the people skills to actually have a basic conversation if it strayed away from anything besides film, but then the night came and we were falling asleep and suddenly we were talking freely -- about our pasts, about our futures, about maybe travelling the world one day, about where we wanted to end up in life. I learned that day that he's shy, but he's not a buzzkill like people say quiet people are. He's full of life and of energy -- like he was God's favorite or something."

Nova rolled her eyes. "I bet he is God's favorite. He probably always will be," she joked, but the smile fell quickly into utter seriousness. She was gazing down, scratching at the dirt from the tip of her shoe, but the past was haunting her, and she was near to exploding.

"It's funny, isn't it? That of all people, God's favorite is the one who would pull on his ears whenever he got embarrassed or when he was thinking deeply. When he had that phase where he grew his hair out kinda long, he'd even chew on it. He'd laugh like a child when he got caught, and when he was happy, his eyes would get the slightest bit brighter. It was subtle, but it happened. Sometimes, he'd start humming if he was that happy, but when he was sad, his eyebrows looked angry and when he was mad, his mouth would pout like he was sad. If he watches the sad scene in a movie, he's afraid to cry so he'd randomly stretch to distract himself. Once he started laughing -- remember that guys, at the cinema when the lead was dying and he just burst out laughing? Or how about the fact that no matter how long his socks were up his leg, when he went to bed, he'd wake up with them off by morning."

"Dang girl. Stalker much?" Jared said, kidding around. He didn't like the sound of the girl he loved talking about the Prince Charming of her life, and we could see that, but the important part is he didn't act on it.

"Woah," Jewee tuned in, impressed. "Not only in-love, huh? You are like in-love in-love. Such a shame you're never a pairing."

Jayvee's head jolted upward at that, and Jewee, seeing he said something he shouldn't have backed slightly out of the circle as not to receive consequences. Regardless, Jayvee didn't care to look at him. It was Nova she was so concerned about.

"Wait," she spoke out. "How would you know that he can't keep his socks on when he sleeps? I don't even know that for sure, but if anyone does, it should be me."

Nova's hands frantically shook in front of her, left to right. "You're taking a giant leap here. I can tell, because it's not something to be angry about. We went camping in Australia when all of you came to visit. We were all there. I just happened to remember that he has that kind of habit. It doesn't go any deeper than that."

The tension in Jayvee's shoulders fell, but not out of relief. It was out of defeat. "Oh," she whispered, her throat wavering her words. "Right."

"Maybe Ryan said goodbye to you, Jayvee, because he liked Nova. He wanted to end things peacefully with you so that he could be with the girl that actually notices the little things," Jared chimed in in a sing-song, like those students from elementary that'd sing out the k-i-s-s-i-n-g song to the mini couples on the campus. "I mean, I like Nova too, everyone knows it, but I have to admit that it isn't exactly impossible. If he wouldn't have passed away, we might be sitting across the Nova and Ryan ship, sailing into the sea."

The atmosphere became tighter, as if the remote to its roses verses thorns capacity was the look on Jayvee's face. She tried to laugh, and it only became more suffocating. "That's nonsense," she bit back, disliking the topic. "He'd never do that. We were in love. He loved me."

"What about you did he loved? What you loved about him?" Jewee cocked his head to the side. None of us dared to ask the question when Jayvee was growing more and more vicious by the second, but we all wondered how she would respond, especially after we heard Nova, and how once she got started talking about him, she couldn't stop, especially considering Jayvee -- she's barely said a word thus far. It was unusual.

And oddly enough, she was taken aback by the question. "H-he-- well, he loved everything about me."

"No specific? Okay. Fine," Of course, Jewee wasn't the type to push things if she didn't properly answer. He simply accepted it, and repeated his second question. "And? You about him?"

The woman changed position from criss-crossed to sit up on her knees. "I-- I-- don't know," she answered, having trouble to think up an answer. In other cases, a silence would force her to admit more truth than she wanted. Here, she didn't have any truth to tell.

"What do you mean you don't know what you loved about him?" Jared intervened. He wasn't like Jewee. He pushed for things. He got what he wanted when he wanted it. "I can name several things I love about Nova. Her features, but her eyes especially, are just when it comes to the physical appearance, but I love how passionate she is about things, how she yearns to chase after her dreams, how she's more of a leader than a follower, and I love her determination, just to get started, and you don't know what you love about Ryan? Didn't you date on the down-low for a year? And whether that's true or not, we all knew each other for the last five. You have to know something you love about him. Specifics."

"I just loved him, okay?" She screamed back, standing back up to her feet. "I loved him and all that he was. That's it."

And she ran off, back into her room as this giant ball of gloom without coming out for the entire night.

None of us knew what to think.

Series
2

About the Creator

Shyne Kamahalan

writing attempt-er + mystery/thriller enthusiast

that pretty much sums up my entire life

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