1 Scar

There's a pub down the road. Merely meters away from our house. I make an effort of not going there. All that booze stares at me, inviting. I don't look at the shelves. I pretend to not smell the alcohol in the air. I must...stay away from it. Lest I want another episode with Jerry.

"Mama...!" Hailey cries, tugging at my hand. She is eager to return home. Her favorite cartoon will be starting soon.

"Just a minute baby," I smile at her weakly. I can feel her impatience. I've been in those little shoes when I was young. There is no sinister betrayal to a child than depriving them of their favorite cartoon. I must hurry back!

"Sorry hun, I was stuck in..." Patrik makes a face, trying to explain something. He can't find the right words. "Well, I was stuck." He ends it. I scoff.

"You have something for Jerry?" I ask impatiently. I don't want to stay in this pub another minute. The smell of alcohol is getting harder to resist.

"Yeah, hold on." Patrik lifts a finger before reaching to the shelves under the bar table. He pulls out a dusty but large envelope. It smells at least 2 decades old. Better not have bookworms in it.

"Care for a drink?" Patrik taunts. I glare. I want to kill him.

"Cheer up!" He smiles and pats my cheek. Childhood friends can be such assholes.

"Alright, Hailey, let's-" I pause as I look down for her but she's not there.

"Hailey!" I shout as my heart throbs in my chest. I spot her not far. I heave a sigh. Gave me a scare. A pub is not a place to bring a child in anyway! Fucking Jerry and his eccentric demands.

I grab the envelope & ignore the dust that sticks to my clothes. My eyes focused on my little daughter.

"Hailey!" I call but she ignores me and keeps walking toward a table where a man is sitting. The world freezes. The space warps around him. Something about him sets him apart from every other drunkard in the pub. He's not drunk. There is orange juice in his glass. And he's crying.

I look back at Patrik in confusion for some insight. He's busy pouring drinks now and doesn't notice my gaze. I turn back and look at the man. Hailey is making a beeline for him. He seems to be in his 30s. Perhaps a bit younger than Jerry. But his head is balding. His brown glossy hair are attractive with a fieriness in them. He wears layers and layers of clothing; all black with black gloves. Winter ended last month.

I can't remember the last time I saw a man crying. They just don't. They grit their teeth and make a din. Masking their sorrow with anger. Jerry exhibits that habit a bit too much.

In comparison, this man seems so much more open, vulnerable yet strong enough to cry amidst so many men who are oozing with testosterone and musk. He seems poetically delicate. His almond watery eyes so pretty, you'd want to get lost into.

"Don't cry. Here, have my dino!" Hailey says to him. His expression transitions so swiftly and magically. Ah the smile of pure happiness as he sees my daughter before seeing her tiny dinosaur toy. His happiness doubles.

I reach the table, not realizing I had been walking toward it all this while. I smile at Hailey. This little girl sure inherited my side's family's compassion and empathy. My heart bubbles.

"It's for me? Thank you!" The man cries happily. Hailey reaches up to his face with her little hands and wipes his tears messily. The man breaks more into tears. This time, they are tears of happiness and gratitude.

"Let's go sweetie," I say, holding Hailey's shoulders tenderly. She just smiles at the man who smiles back. They have nothing to say. Nothing more needs to be said. He doesn't spare a single glance my way.

I lead Hailey out. I look at the man's reflection in the mirrored wall by the door. He has wiped his tears, tucked the dino into his coat's pocket and is clutching onto it from outside, crumpling his clothes. It has perhaps given him great support. He sighs, closing his eyes, and when he opens them, there is a resoluteness in them.

I pause.

This resoluteness seems a bit off. His expressions have all faded. This is a dead man's face, devoid of emotion. I turn to ensure what I've just seen, wondering what it means. He gazes our way. His eyes land on Hailey. Emotionless. But then they narrow slightly, as though acknowledging her. Then they look at me. I feel naked. His gaze pierces into my very being. His almond eyes no longer seem like a puppy's, but wolf's instead. A dangerous animal lurks inside them. Ruthless. Deathly. I shiver, backing away and colliding with Hailey. I stumble but quickly regain my balance. I pick Hailey up in my arms and rush out. I dare not look back. I'm never coming to this pub again! Winds blow past me, messing my hair. The clouds have covered the whole sky. It might rain soon. I hurry back home.

---

Bam! I throw the envelope on the table. There's stacks and stacks of old files already in Jerry's study corner.

Jerry glares at me. I glare back at him.

"Fuck you," I growl. He snorts, grabbing the envelope and ripping it off; taking out another old file. There's a paper slip stuck on its cover. It reads 'Scar-51'. Scar, the serial killer who killed about 70 people in the last 30 decades; including Jerry's sister Sherry. He's never been the same again. His droopy eyes burn red with hate and madness. He quit his army job, secluded himself from family and friends, devoted himself into researching Scar. He wants nothing but Scar's life. And in his hunt, he has scarred our family.

"I'm...going to my parents tomorrow," I say, staring at Jerry's broad shoulders, muscular arms and thick neck. He was more buffed when he wasn't crazy. I sigh, turning away. Jerry doesn't reply. He's buried deep in reading the case file he has had Patrik smuggle out of the police station. Patrik's brother is a cop. A dirty one.

I walk away. I'm not coming back until Jerry begs me to. My daughter will not grow up in the shadow of a mad hunter. Even if we both love him the same.

I pass by the living room. Hailey is on the carpet, swinging her little legs as she watches cartoons. I smile, just faintly.

Bzzz! The doorbell rings. I frown. It's almost 8PM. No guests are welcome at this hour. Whoever it is, they better have a good reason for coming here.

I go to the door and click open it. I pause. There he is. The almond eyed crying man. He's looking down sadly.

"W-what do you want?" I ask apprehensively, wondering if I should call for Jerry. The man looks up at me almost guiltily before his eyes lose emotions again. My heart throbs. The wolf-like gaze pierces into me again. I can't see into his eyes any longer! My eyes escape the trance, darting away but pause. The lightning flash in the sky, casting a sudden light onto his face from the sides. A scar becomes clearly visible on his chin.