Leaking Heart, Yoshie Akira [black authors fiction TXT] 📗

was nothing, and I mean it's nothing! Just let it goand forget about it!"

Mom suddenly broke down crying, and Dad continued to stare at me as if I had gone crazy. Abruptly, I felt the same way. What little was left of my anger was swallowed up, and I let the tablecloth that I was still clutching fall from my fingers. "I'm sorry," I whispered, looking down. The floor was covered in broken porcelain. While my parents still stood together on the other side of the mess, I knelt down and started to pick up the pieces, one by one as they blurred through my tear-filled eyes.

I had the feeling that Keme had some doing in this.
Chapter 3

Never have I screamed at my parents -- or anyone, for that matter -- like that. I felt ashamed, and evil, for making my mother cry like that. But she did have a tendency to cry at things, especially when she was pregnant a while ago. And especially after her miscarriage. Even so, I felt so horrible that the tears continued to flow long after the incident had passed, and long after Mom had stopped her own tears. I cleaned up the mess all on my own, threw away the broken plates, and put the silverware in the dishwasher. Then I reset the table for two and went to my room.

Sometimes I wish I could get away from it all. All the monotony of my life. But then I always remember how much my parents love me, and I'm sure that they would be devastated if I left.

After a while of lying in bed in depression and tears, I sit up and look at my digital clock. The green numbers glow 12:19. Well after midnight, and my parents would surely be in bed. I decided to take a walk. The cool, fresh air would do me good.

It was colder than I thought when I walked outside, but I had already closed the door and I didn't want to go through the trouble of rushing in and punching in the security system code before the alarm came on. My dad had it set so that anywhere after midnight, should the door or windows be opened, the alarm would go off and wake up everyone in the neighborhood.

So I decided to take my walk in the cold anyway, with only a pair of pajama bottoms, a small windbreaker, and sneakers slipped over my bare feet. My breath clouded up in the air as I walked briskly down the street. I felt the goosebumps on my arms and legs, but strangely, I liked the feeling. I doubt anyone was awake on my block; none of their lights were on, with the exception of their porchlights.

The moon was bright tonight, though it was only a sliver surrounded by twinkling stars. I wondered if my would-be brother or sister was looking down on me. He or she would have been two years old had he or she been born. We had never decided on a name, but in my mind, I hoped it would have been a girl, and that her name would Alice. What a disappointment when Mom woke us up in the middle of the night, screaming bloody murder. Dad and I both rushed into the bathroom, where the screams were coming from, and found Mom sitting on the floor with her pants around her ankles.

She was holding a tiny fetus in her hands, and there was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the toilet, on the rug, and on her. It was a disgusting sight for a thirteen year old boy to see. I felt queasy and left her there, screaming and writhing on the floor, and went back to my room. I fell asleep to the sound of her wails.

I shook my head to shove away the memory, and took a deep breath of the chilly morning air to help clear my thoughts. I came outside to help myself relax, not remember a bunch of horrifying shit from my past.

It was then that I realized that I had walked to the school. I don't know why; there was no reason for me to come here. I turned to walk back home when I suddenly felt the urge to stay. I looked back at the dark, silent school. Harrison High.

Then I felt a chill and shivered. I needed to get home before I caught a cold. I turned to definitely leave this time.

I hurried home, desperate to get back into my warm bed in my own room. It really is colder than I thought it would be. I was across the street from my house. As it was well after midnight, it didn't occur to me that I should look both ways before crossing.

I stepped out into the streets with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, intent on reaching my destination.

What I thought was light from the streetlamp was actually an oncoming car's headlights. The sound of screeching tires grabbed my attention.

The next thing I knew, it was dark, and my head felt like it was being split in two.

"Oh, my God!" I heard a woman gasp. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God." I heard high heels on the pavement. "Kid?" she called. "Oh, my God, oh, my God..."

Then I realized why it was so dark. I was underneath the car itself. I groaned and slowly pulled myself out from under the car. The woman who hitmewas standing in front of me with wide blueeyes, hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God, are you okay?"

I sat up in pain, holding my head in one hand. "Ouch, ouch, ouch..."

"Do--Do you need an ambulance? Do I need to call an ambulance?" the woman asked.

"I'm fine," I replied, looking at my fingertips to check for blood. Nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding. "That was my fault."

"Are you sure you're okay?" the woman asked. "Do you need -- Where do you live? Let me take you home, or to the hospital. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, I swear," I replied. I used the car to aid myself in standing up. I wobbled for a moment, then my equilibrium came back to me and I sighed. "I'm just gonna walk over there," I said, pointing to my house.

"Wh--why? Where's your house? I can give you a ride -- It's the least I can do," the woman insisted. She was really annoying.

I pointed to my house again. "I live there. So, like, I think I'll -- I think I'll just walk over there and maybe go inside or something."

"Do you need any help?" she asked. She looked really desperate. Probably didn't want me to sue her or anything.

"No, no," I said. "I am fine." I walked past her to my house. I reached for the doorknob -- and the door opened on its own.

I staggered back in surprise when I realized that my dad had opened the door. Both my parents were standing there, mirroring my expression, in their bathrobes.

Chapter 4

I was grounded for a month for sneaking out in the middle of the night. My parents talked over the accident with the oh, myGod woman. I watched from my window silently, and they waved her off without taking any payment or apologies. My parents are soft-hearted like that.

The next morning, Saturday, I was eating pancakes at the table with my parents, when there was a desperate rapping on the front door. They didn't use the doorbell.

"I'll get it," I said, standing up. I walked down the hallway and opened the front door. It's Keme. She opens her mouth to say something, and I shut the door and locked it.

"Who was it?" asked Dad through his newspaper.

"No one," I replied, shoving a bite of pancake in my mouth.

I was sure that Keme would get the hint and leave, but I choked in surprise when she suddenly appeared at the kitchen window. Mom and Dad both looked at me while I tried to recover. Their backs were to the window, so they couldn't see the governor's daughter standing in the flower bed and waving for attention.

"Are you all right?" frowned Mom, concerned enough to watch me choke to death, but not to bother to give me the Heimlich maneuver.

I recovered on my own, then jumped up. "Gotta do something," I said, running out of the kitchen and out of the door. Keme smiled with joy when she saw me sprinting across the grass towards her.

"Athanasios," she cried, outstretching her arms. I grabbed one of her wrists and jerked her along with me past the window just as my parents turned, hearing her voice.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed between my pants. I really wasn't in shape at all.

"I came to see you," she replied, taking my hand in hers. "I mean, we just had our first couple fight, is all. Why didn't you call me?"

"What?" I frowned.

"Oh," she frowned, as if suddenly remembering something important. "Haven't you ever seen a drama show? Well, this is how it works: we get into a fight, we stay away for a couple of days, the guy starts to feel tortured because he can't see her, and he calls her like twenty times a day. Then he shows up at her house and kisses her, and everything is all back to normal. Got it?"

I stared at her. "First of all, Keme," I sighed, "I don't have your number or address. And second of all, I'm not interested."

Now it was her turn to stare. "Wh--What?" her bottom lip quivered.

Oh, geez... I sighed. "Keme, I'm sorry. I'm just not attracted to you in that way. I don't mind being your friend--" Actually, I do not want to be her friend at all-- "but we can't be together."

Her eyes were filled with bitter tears, and she was making that ridiculous trying-not-to-cry-even-though-I-already-am noise in the back of her throat. "All right, then," she