He Who Followed the Footprints (1)

There we go, Diana and I had followed the instruction from the teacher, but what we got is a less expected result. I mean, why can't I light these goddamn lamps. You just need to put this cable in here, and this in here, intertwined it in here blah..blah..blah and done. It's a mess.

Diana is not helping, at all. I repeat, AT ALL. She is just standing right next to me, acting like an idiot (which she mastered in no time) trying to touch the cable, as if she did something with those wires. It's my fault. I shouldn't have teamed up with a dumb bitch. She'll definitely abolish my grades.

I sit on the chair with a troubled expression. Miss Annie was out for a discussion with another teacher. Fifteen minutes left for Miss Annie to check all the work from the students. Fifteen minutes left for me to get a F in my score sheet. Nice Andra, nice, now you can go and kill this bitch beside you.

However, Diana shows no worries, besides the fact that we're already lost thirteen-minutes doing nothing. She just gazes at the same direction for the whole five minutes. I think she went mad already.

But no, she clapping her hand two times, I follow her eye to the same direction. An overly neat student with glasses, and that plain face comes to us. Oh, that genius student whose appearance is more average than your average Joe. What is he doing, leaving his friend and coming to our table, did he want to mock us?

He glances at me for five seconds, before switching his eye to Diana. Even with this close gap between us, he is still as plain as a white wall, nothing to see. He stares at Diana, silently waiting for an order. He is like an obedient dog. I bet he'll fetch a stick if Diana throws it in some random direction.

"Joseph, I need your help," Says Diana, sweet as a poison, "Please help us finish this cables. You know, I'm lazy to do it. And Andra is too stupid," she says. Seriously, I'll kill this bitch later. Who the hell she labeled as stupid? If it was between us, she must be the one. I rolled my eyes, secretly hoping that the boy—Joseph will refuse to do it. Better having a bad grade than annihilating myself in front of an average Joe.

"Sure," reply Joseph. I facepalmed hard. Diana lets Joseph sit beside me. He uses his finger skillfully to fix all the mess that I did before. He astonishes me with his skill, like an adult playing kids' jigsaw puzzle. He finished our work within ten minutes. Diana is looking at me with pride and mocking expression too. Joseph leaves our seat calmly as if he never leaves his seat, as expected from an invisible average Joe. Well, maybe he is invisible because the other students are too busy to spot him. Most of them haven't finished their task yet.

Diana acts like she has accomplished anything just now, her smug face annoyed the hell out of me. She raises one eyebrow. "What's wrong, Andra Daslove? Did I shocked you because I can ask him to do everything?" she taunts me. I ignore her. I hope Miss Annie arrived sooner. I'm upset about this.

"Attention class, I will check all of your work," says Miss Annie firmly. I wait for her in my desk, uninterested with the result. Miss Annie checks our (Joseph's) work meticulously. She smiled and satisfied with our work. She gives a straight A because we can arrange the cable without making any mistake, which is rare. Of course, it's an A, because Joseph did it for us.

Diana drags me to the cafeteria during lunch. However, this lunch isn't the same, since we have a new guest at our table. Well, originally, Joseph refused to eat with us. I don't want another person in this table either, but the sweet-sweet Diana forced him to sit in here. Joseph reluctantly sat with us. He is similar to me. No, not because he is an average Joe. It is because both of us don't want to join a group or something.

He didn't order something other than a drink. He already made everything in his lunch box, sealed within a clean container. There are five kinds of dishes he has in the box, veggie, meat, fruit, bread, and um… vegemite? I don't know what's that, but it looks like he loved that the most.

Because there is no almond bread today, I decided to eat anything on this cafeteria offer. Pie, chicken soup, nugget, few random loaves of bread and a glass of honey milk, sounds good. Diana stares at all of my food.

"Omg Andra. You'll be fat!" she babbles. I raised one eyebrow.

"I never get fat by eating. I can eat as much as I can and will gain less than you eating plain salad," I say proudly. "What's wrong Diana? Are you on a diet? Yeah, you look fat."

Diana zips her lips, she stopped eating her chicken nugget and rolled her eyes. God, it is satisfying to shut her mouth. I mean, this maybe a rare chance to eat without disgusting overstuffed mouth talking next to me.

Joseph is eating calmly on the other side of the table, he eats everything slowly, but he is much tidier than Diana and me. We have bread crumbles all over our hand and mouth. He uses the half bottle of vegemite and spread it all over his food. Salad with Vegemite, meat with vegemite, bread with vegemite, fruit with vegemite, even yoghurt with vegemite. He must love that black vegemite thingy.

Surprisingly, it is interesting to see him eating vegemite with everything, also when he does his work. It makes it up for his average looks. He doesn't care about people watching him eating weird thing or the fact that he brings his homemade lunch. Or maybe, he doesn't care about his surrounding, at all. Just like me.

I keep my cool, but I have a little crooked smile on my lips.

"What is that vegemite thingy?" asks Diana.

"It's… something very popular in my hometown, like a tasty chocolate for me," explains Joseph. Chocolate? It doesn't exactly look like chocolate to me.

"Chocolate? I love chocolate, give it to me!" Diana eagerly scoops a spoonful vegemite. She eats it all like a hungry hippo. Exactly, that's a terrible, terrible mistake. She throws up all of it on the table. I immediately move away from her and avoiding her gross pukes. Aftermath? She throws up to Joseph's face and clothes.

People around us look at us in shock. Some of them leave their seat, and some take photo or video. Diana is also shocked, but she is more concerned with how gross that vegemite is. She curses the food and leaving Joseph behind. She runs to the toilet without me. I guess she is just too embarrassed to even look at me.

"Are you?" I ask halfheartedly, grossed by pukes on his face and clothes.

"I'm fine. Just drenched a bit," Joseph stands up. He leisurely walks to the toilet, leaving the cafeteria silenced for a long time. Neat, his reaction is immaculate. He is interesting in his own way. I've never felt so related to another person but him. Diana attends the next class with fresh beauty, looks like she took a bath just now.

Joseph joins the class using new clothes from his locker. He took a shower, like Diana, maybe cleaner than her. Diana pokes at me, pointing at my jacket. "I need it," she says. I keep my lips shut, every time I see her face, I want to laugh, a big-loud-noisy laugh. That accident will be viral for a week in this school, I strongly expect it.

Diana said she couldn't accompany me like usual, so I walk on this long route alone. I giggle one or few times. It is still funny to recall that accident in the cafeteria. Thanks, vegemite, you gave me a good fun. It's good to giggle at something, right? I'm not really fond of smiling or laughing like a stupid person, but damn, that was a good watch.

Today is my shift for making dinner. I head to the supermarket to buy some ingredients for today's dinner and restocking the fridge. I walk bypassing one rack to another. Hmm… I need cheese, two cartons of milk, cheerios for Alska, some vegetables and spices. Sigh, it'll be hard to carry all of it.

I pick the radish, tomato, looking at few carrots to decide the best one, and lastly, lettuce will be good. I'll make a salad for Alska. She hates vegetables though. I'll make the salad with cheese. It's the only way to make Alska eat vegetable, by putting block of cheese to it, or else, she'd never eat.

'I need that thing.' I head to the woman hygiene section, my period will come soon, and I must buy that thing. You know, I become less active and grumpier when I hit the time of the month again. It really hurts, I can devour a grown man to relieve the pain.

I pick one of my favorites, then proceed to leave the woman hygiene section, before I met Joseph, face to face… in tampons rack. He looks at me, surprised. I was even more surprised than him, why does he go to the tampons rack? And oh my god, he watches me buying tampon, awkward, damn awkward. This is so random. I quickly hide my tampon in the shopping basket.

"Hi…" he greets me, awkward. I don't say any word to reply him. I just want to go. I sidestep him and leave him behind. "Andra, your tampon! It fell from your basket!" he calls me loudly. I froze with embarrassment, everyone around me is looking at us, giggling and laughing. My face gets as red as tomato, I draw near Joseph, maybe a slap would teach him. When I raise my hand, he holds it and put the tampon in my palm.

It's so sudden. My palm trembles because of a weird sensation, hot and cold as he holds my hand for a five minutes, and I didn't spontaneously slap him, or at least pulling my hands off. I stand there, waiting for him to finish inspecting my sweaty palm. Why don't I just slap him in the face, I know I have a chance.

"T—thanks…" I say. God, why am I thanking him? I should've kick or slap him, where's all of my strength? It plummeted when he holds my hand.

He nods, and then he asks me. "Can you help me to get some tampon? My sister said she needs a tampon for her first period. I don't know which one to pick."

A weird sister… or Joseph is the weird one. Well, I pick him the Pearl Tampax, because it is the one that I used during my first period. He nods and thanks me.

"I'll go," I say hastily. Being near him makes my face hot.

"Wait, I can give you a ride, I use scooter," he offers.

'I don't know… maybe… yes…'

"No, thanks," I reply. Turning down his offer.

"It's night, it'll be dangerous to go alone for a girl like you," he offers again, persistent. I feel so degraded when he says that it is dangerous for me to go alone. I can take care of myself. I'm not that weak.

"I'm not weak."

"I don't say that you're weak. But you're—beautiful. Some suspicious men might approach you on the road," Joseph is persistent, but I also stand still. Well, maybe I stagger a bit. No one ever called me pretty or beautiful because they want to protect me, most of them tell me pretty because they want to get laid.

'I want to… well, my groceries are quiet heavy, and a ride would be nice…'

"Fine," I say. I will ask him to stop in front of the main entrance of my residential area. So, I can keep my house in secret. We go together to the cashier and bag my groceries. I follow him to the parking lot. It is already dark, maybe around half past six. Joseph asks me to hop in. He has a white-pink Vespa scooter, with small seat that I doubt will fit.

I use his spare helmet. We ride through the night. This is my first time using a motorcycle. The breeze of the night calms my mind. I ask Joseph to go on a long route, trying to extend this breezy feeling. Joseph also smells good. I thought he would stink because of Diana's pukes. But he smells good, not masculine and sharp, but his fragrance uses sandalwood, and it's calming. I have an urge to hug him tighter, smelling his perfume more, but I hold myself. I don't want to look creepy.

'No, Andra! No.'

I was intoxicated by this pleasant sensation. I almost forgot to stop the scooter from entering the residential area.

"Stop."

"This is the entrance… are you sure you don't want me to go further?" he ask. I shake my head.

"You don't need to…" I said. I turn my back, leaving Joseph in his scooter. I certainly don't want him to go further. I don't want everything to be revealed, nor wanting him to be in danger, the last thing that I want from this world is seeing mother kills someone who I care about. Wait, why do I need to care for him? No, I just don't want mother to kill another person in general.

I stroll around my residential area. I look at the blue house in front of me. I can't visit Mrs. Dowle everyday, but she understands and gives me the kitten doll each time I visit. She might give me three or four dolls for one visit. She said that I could take more if I want to. Ah, I'd love to, but each visit only gives me more guilt for not telling the truth. Especially, not telling the truth to the one who trusts me.

I face my house with both sadness and joy. This is not my 'home,' where I can spend the night with happiness and calm atmosphere like in the past. It is almost as dreadful as going to the dentist as a child, where all the good things become a nightmare. Friendly dentist become a mad doctor, the toys they give become knife and cleaver, and the beautiful decoration become monster who can devour you in second.

But my memory lies in here, it was a fully bloomed flower, but tragedy stepped on it. I still try to keep my dead flower, hoping that it'll miraculously grow again. This place is where my mom lies dead, replaced by her new persona. This is the place where my sister born with happiness, alongside my life that she destroyed when she was born. I can't hate her. She was just a harmless baby, born not knowing anything about her dad. Andra and Alska were just the mistakes that their parents made. I grow up with that perception, so I can always protect Alska from all the grief and aftermath of my parents' mistake.

Every time I enter the house, it's always the same. Alska usually plays with her dolls in the swing or reading some fairy tales. I've checked every book that mother gave to her, and secretly hiding or tearing the pages that might affect Alska. Mother hasn't noticed it so far. She is always busy with her work as a surgeon. She relieves her stress and polishes her mask by killing cheating men or lust-ridden men in general.

Alska warmly welcomes me. She holds a drawing, an orange-haired girl with orange spots in her face, I guess, it's me. "Big Andra! I drew you! You like it?" ask Alska. I smile gently.

"Of course, I am," I reply. Yep, I like it. "Can I have it?"

"It's for you!" she says, handing the drawing. "What will we eat today?"

"Salad," I say. Alska makes pouty face, in protest of her dinner menu.

"I don't like salad," she complains. I know she'll say this if I make a plain salad. She is hard to persuade too.

"I know. That's why, it's a cheese salad," I persuade. She smiles a bit.

"Lots of them?"

"Lots of them."

Alska squeals in delight. I don't understand, why do some people love certain food, like Alska with cheese, and Joseph with weird vegemite… or mother with human meat. They're all weird.

Speaking of mother, she says she'll stay overnight at the hospital. Sounds good for me. I'll be a dead meat if she found out that I went home with a boy. I can see her displeasure when Diana came to our house. I can imagine it'll be more unpleasant if it's a boy that visits this house, alive.

After I make cheese salad for Alska, I think about the possibility of a new visitor. I mean, dead visitor. There're plenty of things that I need to do. It's been a whole month without mother bringing a corpse. She might stop for a while or she is still seducing her victim, either way, I must prepare everything to prevent a bloodbath inside the house. I take dozen roll of plastic wraps from the storage. I cover all the sofa and cushions with plastic wrap. I don't want to spend five hours trying to wash the blood in the couch.

I move the small, brown wooden table with glass pane carefully. It's an old table, and fragile too. I roll the rug beneath. Yes, of course, I need to secure all the rugs. It's impossible to clean the rug without washing it. Who will wash it? Me? No thanks, I don't like to touch bloodstained rug.

Mother doesn't care, though. She knows that I will clean her mess. She keeps bringing dead bodies, even chops them in front of Alska. Alska doesn't seem to mind, nor she looks interested. Alska sees it as a usual thing, nothing special in particular, much to my relief. If she is not interested in it, I think I can take a break a little. Since her psychology is critical to keep her on the right track.

"Will mom bring a talking doll, Big Andra?" ask Alska. It's her word to ask if we'll have a soon-to-be-dead visitor. Alska loves talking to them, maybe because she thinks that those men are different. Short hair, rough voice, some were bearded, big body, it's different than mother and me.

"Maybe," I say. "It's nine already, you should go back to your room."

"Okay," she says. "Don't forget to hang my gift, Big Andra!"

I smile and nod. It'll hang in my room, I promise. It is relieving, seeing her hasn't been affected by mother's behavior. I eat a small portion of salad. I can't stand too much cheese for the sake of my sweet tongue. I hang the drawing on my wall, perfect. The girl in the drawing is ugly, though. She has orange spots on her face (or freckles), red-orange hair and lousy expression. I don't see any redeeming quality in my face, other than the green eyes. I love the beauty on a pair of green eyes.

I check the phone on my desk. Oh, I've always wanted a new phone with many features in it. I want to be those popular girls, with dozen of selfies on the galleries, using application like Snapchat or Twitter. I don't even use Facebook, fearing that I might go overboard and destroy everything. I want to use a fancy, expensive cloth, partying like there is no tomorrow. I also want to chat with my friends and giggling when a boy is trying to hit on you. Well, not really, but I see the girls love sending a pic of their tits to the fuck boy, and the boy does the same with a dick pic. But then, I realize that I'll look ridiculous, I bet I can't even stare at my photos, nor keeping up with those giggling noisy girls in my school. Also, I'm ugly, why the hell should I flood people's Instagram with my ugly photos.

'He said I'm beautiful.' I smile when I remember that. I usually grossed out when a boy or adult man called me beautiful. Because, I know that they all have hidden intention, but surprisingly, when Joseph said that, it's okay. Maybe one or few boys aren't that bad after all. Joseph is fine, I think. He is kind and quirky. I wouldn't mind to befriend him or maybe take it into deeper meaning.

I immediately shake my head. I shouldn't show any further interest. No matter how interesting he is, mother has told me not to go overboard, or I'll be sorry. Being friend with Diana is already a warning sign for me.