Chapter Twenty Four - Ferris
I glance at the clock. It's 9:48 pm. I spread out my legs while sitting on the couch, listening to the sound of thunder from outside and music quietly playing on the living room stereo. I stare at nothing in particular; just drift off into space.
Kit actually forgave me. Even if I were being an asshole, but she forgave me nonetheless. What's strange is that I wasn't even expecting her to. Thinking about this makes me feel like the crappiest friend in the universe, since I felt like I didn't even know how Kit was going to react even after all this time, that we had known each other. She's truly the only reliable friend I have, even after all the mistakes I've committed. She chose to stay by my side, and this makes me realize that I should definitely be more loyal to her and treat her well. As for Astrid, she's a great person but now... I'm continuously having mixed emotions.
Then I think of my mom, who was so beautiful. Her skin was smooth and her eyes crinkled every time she gave off her wide smile which always reminded me of the sun. Her hair was long, curly, and the lightest shade of brown. Her voice was always soothing yet strong, reminding me of vast oceans moving under powerful winds, sometimes gentle. She was an angel, and in moments like these were when I wanted to speak with her most. I had always appreciated her company even when Dad didn't.
"Mom," I speak quietly. I glance up at the ceiling in hopes of somehow seeing her watch over me, but of course the thought is ridiculous since all I see is white nothingness. "If only you were still here. I know I've never been the perfect son, but I want you to know that I've been missing you and I still do."
"We all do." I jump at the sound of my father's voice, realizing that he had been listening once he steps out from the hallway. He makes his way to the living room and silently sits on the edge of the couch which leaves me immediately grateful for the space. But other than that, I'm not entirely pleased to see him right now.
"Dad," I mumble, hating how my voice cracks at once, "What do you want?"
"What, I can't have a little talk with my son? To catch up on things?"
"'Catch up on things?'" I scoff, staring at him in disbelief, "I'm not one of your drinking buddies from those sports bars you go to all the time. I want to make myself clear; don't talk to me like I'm your friend because I'm not."
"You're not," Dad echoes, "because you're my son."
"Then treat me like it, damn it!" I snap, glaring at him. Dad raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise, but his normally bright eyes go a little dim. Strangely enough, I don't feel the least bit guilty for this is simply my way of showing how terribly pushed away my mother - his own wife - had felt before she decided to commit suicide.
"Ferris." The way he says my name in a hushed voice, sounds so sad that it's almost pathetic. I know that he only wants sympathy and wants me to understand his side of things, but I doubt that I'll ever forgive him. I just can't.
"Ferris," he says again, his voice more audible this time. He turns his body so that he's facing me entirely and I notice that a somber expression has taken over his face, leaving me with some weird yet sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. "I know things between me and you have been pretty rocky ever since... ever since Helen died. I know this. I had no idea that she had such depressing thoughts going through her head and -"
"You're such a liar," I say, my voice trembling. I turn away, not bearing to even look at him. "You knew what you were doing and you knew how you were making her feel. She tried to get your attention, but you'd just push her away like a plate of unwanted food. Good luck living in denial for the rest of your life, Dad."
"Stop it," he cries out in a voice I've never heard before and I immediately widen my eyes and glance at him. His eyes are beginning to streak with tears and his eyebrows are strained. He has a hand gripping his hair, tugging and tugging in frustration. "Do you really take me as that cruel of a person? It was never my intention to make your mother feel this way. I loved her, but things weren't working out at the time.... Your mother was such a strong and remarkable woman and I... I can't believe she just..." Dad's voice croaks at his last sentence and he hangs his head, clasping his hands over his face while his shoulders quake in helpless sobs. I feel my face compose again, beginning to feel calmer and calmer by the minute as I watch my father cry for the first time. Maybe I am a bad person, but he is even worse and I want him to keep that engraved in his mind for as long as he'll live.
"Too bad you missed your chance to appreciate the strong and remarkable woman she was," I murmur, still staring at him, "I almost lost the friendship I had with Kitty. But I soon realized that I had to fix it before it was too late. I want to make things better. Seems like your son has grown up much faster than you have."
He suddenly stops crying. He wipes at his face with the collar of his t-shirt and meets my eyes; his completely red and mine completely bitter.
"If you grew up faster than I have, as you say," he sniffs, then sits up a little taller as if to look down on me, "then you wouldn't even attempt to make war with me and think that you're rightfully avenging your mother's suicide. What you're doing and how you think is completely childish, Ferris. But I'm aware that... I haven't been the most adult of fathers and that I haven't always been there for you." He lowers his eyes now, knitting his eyebrows together. "You're always wondering why I seem to treat Linzee specially. Do you know the reason?"
I remain silent.
"That's because," he continues, looking up at the ceiling as if he, too, were searching for Mom, "she reminds me of Helen. And I don't know... I guess, I try to treat her the way I should have treated your mother when she was still alive." He sniffs again and rubs his nose with the back of his hand.
"I know you're hurting, Ferris, but your old man is hurting too," he continues, "Your sister is also suffering but she's really good at hiding it. I already lost your mother. I don't want to lose my son, too."
An uncomfortable silence then stretches between us for what feels like centuries. The only noise I hear is the thunderous rain clapping against the glass windows.
Dad lets out a sigh and slowly rises on his feet. "Just think about it. I'm going to bed." And with that, he turns from me and makes his way down the hall again. I soon hear the sound of his bedroom door closing. That coward.
A loud knock on the front door immediately distracts me. Who could be visiting at this hour and especially in this weather? I slowly stand up and head over to open it. Standing there is Kit, her violet hair soaking wet from the rain. It's dark and cold outside, black clouds swarming with lightning and water loudly pouring.
"Kit," I breathe, surprised.
"Do you mind if I come in?" she asks quietly, shivering. She fidgets in place with her eyes downcast.
"Um, not at all," I reply, then step aside to let her through. She enters while I close the door behind her.
Kit makes her way to the couch and I soon plant myself beside her. I honestly wasn't expecting her to visit. She shifts a little in her seat, her expression unreadable. I patiently wait for words to naturally come.
"Listen," she starts slowly, her cheeks taking in a light shade of red, "I came because... because I missed you. I was in my bedroom, replaying the whole apology thing over and over in my head and I felt like I was suffocating in sadness. But I was also happy because we made amends, you know? I suddenly had the urge to see you and I slipped out without my mom noticing, thank God. I just really wanted to see you."
I smile wearily at her. "Thank you."
A flash of concern crosses her face and she sits up a little straighter. "Wait, are you okay? You look like you've gone through shit."
"Just a discussion I had with my dad."
"A discussion?" she echoes, a hint of curiosity flashing before her eyes, "Care to talk about it?"
"Not now, Kit," I murmur, extending an arm, "Come closer?" She doesn't argue for she obediently scoots her body closer to mine as I drape my arm around her shivering shoulder. I gently brush back her purple bangs and press my lips against her damp forehead, breathing her in. She smells of the rain and the night.
Once I pull away, she eyes me with evident amusement. "Did that discussion make you go all touchy-feely or something?"
I laugh a little, beginning to feel even more tired. "Maybe. Let's just stay like this for a while." I rest my cheek against her shoulder, feeling the dampness of her hair against my skin. I begin to feel a headache coming on.
"Alright, but only for a while," Kit sighs. I feel her head move a little as if to look at me. "Ferris?" I'm far too tired to speak. My vision slowly begins to fade as I slip away to the sound of thunder and Kit's questioning voice which I had longed to hear.
I feel bad about falling asleep while she's speaking to me, but the anger I felt when I spoke to my dad seemed to have drained my energy away. I try to ignore the pain taking over my head, and Kit's voice definitely eases me.
That night, I dreamt of Kit being my own personal song.
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