Chapter One

Try bottling up emotions, I can promise that it will explode one day for the world to see.

- Grace Chanbee

[Justin's POV]

The sound of my ringtone just didn't stop ringing in my ears and bugging me, shattering my plans of sleeping for 12 hours.

What if I had already slept for 12 hours? I wouldn't know because I didn't know what the time was saying as my eyes were still closed, trying so hard to drift back to sleep but my brain already knew that was impossible as once I woke up, I couldn't go back to sleep immediately.

I kicked my legs against each other in anger and frustration. The phone just wouldn't stop ringing and I couldn't just go back to my sleep.

I felt a tap on my arm, I groaned and finally opened my eyes, giving in to seeing sunlight and the electric light which made everywhere bright and annoying.

I had screamed it into my grandmother's ears a million times that I hated bright places, I loved everywhere dark and quiet but granny never listened, did she?

She believed in this weird superstition that dark places brood evil spirits and was a satanic structure or whatever she thought it was.

Eventually, granny had started letting me be since I was 12 and that was 6 years ago so why did she decide to ruin this morning for me?

I yawned sleepily and sat up, dealing with a banging headache and feeling hungry at the same time. My body ached all over from sleeping on the creaky couch and I stretched out my arms and legs, even twisted my neck in order to feel relieved.

Someone tapped me from behind and handed me my phone.

I didn't bother to look at the person's face and just collected the phone.

"Thanks Grams," I said.

The caller ID showed it was my elder sister, Nelly, who was calling.

"Hey, didn't you know I was still sleeping?" I asked immediately I picked up the call.

"Sorry, bro. Wanted to ask if Daniel could stop by for some cotton materials," She said.

"No," I said immediately.

"Please, we'll give you the money back, trust me," She said.

"That's what you said the last time and the last three times. You still owe me a huge sum of money and if you need materials from me, you're gonna have to pay up your debts," I said.

"Come on, kid bro. I'm your sister..."

I cut in. "Don't even try using an emotional blackmail this time around. It won't work," I said.

"Screw you then!" She said, her voice changing from sweet to aggressive.

"Whatever," I slammed her back and hung up.

Nelly was 23 and had married her high school sweetheart, Daniel, immediately after high school.

They had moved to the other part of Arroyo grande and although Daniel made little money from tailoring, they had three little kids, Danielle, Adrian and Katie, who they had to feed and a small house they had to pay for.

Every now and then, he'd stop by and collect materials for sewing from me without paying but I couldn't take it anymore.

I was a senior in high school and I was seeing myself through school and soon, I had to attend college and I needed to save as much money as I could for my college bills and my grandmother's medicines.

"Do you want some tea?" I heard a strange voice ask.

I looked up and shuddered on seeing who had just spoken.

I stood up and ran from the living room to my grandmother's bedroom.

"Grams, Grams, isn't it that same girl who was almost dead?" I asked, shaking.

Grams was what I enjoyed calling my grandmother. She was bending over a stack of clothes and arranging them.

"Is that any way to talk to your poor old grandmother in the morning?" Grams asked, not looking at me.

"Sorry Grams. Good morning. Did I just see what I think I saw?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" Grams asked.

"That girl who has been unconscious at our house for two weeks is who I just saw," I said, panting heavily.

"She's awake, isn't that a good thing?" Grams snapped.

"It..it is. She just startled me, that's all," I said.

"I sent her to ask you if you wanted a cup of tea," Grams said.

"Okay, I understand," I said.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do," Grams said and continued folding the clothes.

I left the bedroom and went back to the living room and saw the girl sitting there and grinning at the old photo album.

I didn't know who she was and how she had gotten into the trunk of my car two weeks ago.

All I remembered was seeing her in a horrific state which had crashed my spirits and made me have a nervous breakdown leading to me fainting on the cold hard floor that night.

I had woken up the next morning on the couch and Grams had shown me the girl who she had cleaned the blood from off her face and changed her outfit into one of Nelly's old clothes, lying peacefully on my bed.

We had invited my late father's chemist friend, Enoch, who had disclosed that her brain had been tampered with and she was in a coma.

He dressed her wounds and stitched the parts that needed stitching. Every now and then, he'd stop by to redress her wounds which gradually started healing.

Although he had said she had little chances of ever waking up, here she was after two weeks, fully awake and bubbly.

I had strongly objected to letting the girl stay at our house but Grams was of the opinion that we ought to do good to people so we can also get good things from people.

I had avoided staying close to the girl but there she was, sitting on my couch, laughing like a child and annoying the hell out of me for a reason I couldn't quite point out.

"Hey, you there," I said.

She stood up abruptly and gave a mock salute.

"What is your name?" I asked.

"My name," She said, smiling.

"Yes, what's your name?" I asked.

She moved her lips like she was thinking. "I.. I don't know," She responded.

"Hey, I'm not joking with you, okay? You can't see me laughing, can you?" I asked harshly.

She shook her head timidly.

"Good! Now, who are you and what were you doing in the trunk of my van?" I asked.

"I'm a girl and I don't know what the trunk of a van is," She said.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I retorted.

"I'm hungry," She said.

Just then, I heard her stomach growl.

"You won't eat till you explain what you're doing here and the motive behind you being here," I said.

"I don't know what you're talking about, okay? All I know is I'm hungry and I won't speak to you till I've had something to eat," She said, standing at akimbo.

I heaved a deep sigh.

"Fine then. What do you want to eat?" I asked.

"What do you have to offer?" She retorted.

"There's bread and cheese," I said.

"Okay then," She said, grinning.

I sighed and went to the kitchen which was a sorry sight to behold.

The kitchen doors were blackened with smoke and the pots and other utensils were charcoal stained as well and they were rotten with old age.

Who still used a stove to cook in this century? Well, I did.

I took out the bread from the fridge which was no longer working and reheated the cheese. I then boiled water and made tea for the three of us; myself, Grams and the mysterious girl I didn't trust one bit.

I headed back to the living room which also served as my bedroom with a tray in my hand.

She beamed gleefully and giggled like a child as she saw me with food.

She hurriedly collected the tray of bread and cheese from me and began to stuff it into her mouth, chewing rapidly like one of the goats on Old Mr Martins farm.

"Didn't you get enough food from wherever you came from?" I asked, staring amusingly at her.

She said something but I couldn't hear because her mouth was stuffed with food.

"Were you a servant who only got to eat once in a day?" I asked again.

She took a cup of tea and gulped it down her throat, swallowing the remaining particles of bread in her mouth.

"I don't think I'm a servant or was ever a servant," She responded.

"Yeah, you have such delicate skin to have been a servant," I said, eyeing her from head to toe.

She became conscious of herself as she looked down at her body as well.

"Is there something wrong with me?" She asked.

"Yes," I said.

"What?"

"Who are you?" I asked.

She shrugged, "I think I'm a girl."

I chortled, "Yeah, you're a girl. What's your name?" I asked.

"I don't know," She said.

"Are you playing with me? Are you freaking playing with me?" I retorted.

She adjusted, "Why are you being so scary all of a sudden?" She asked.

"Tell me who you are and what you're doing in my house," I ordered.

"Justin! Keep your voice down," Grams said, approaching us.

"She's annoying. I found a girl in the trunk of my van and I don't have the slightest idea on who she is and what she's doing in my house. She's not even helping matters," I yelled.

"We both saw her condition, she was terribly hurt and she nearly died. It's a miracle she's still alive," Grams said.

"And how's that my business?" I retorted.

"With the kind of blow she suffered, I doubt she can remember a thing. Her head was practically cracked open and stiches put it back together. She already had her share of a hard to come by miracle by still being alive, I don't think that miracle extended to putting her brain in the right way," Grams said.

I grabbed my jacket and stood up, hastily putting on my slippers.

"Where are you off to?" Grams asked.

"You're not a doctor, Grams. I'm going to get Enoch," I said.

"Can you perhaps get some potatoes on your way back?" Grams asked.

I grumbled, "Sure."

****

"You're right, she's lost her memory," Enoch said, confirming what Grams had previously said.

"But how can you be so sure?" I argued.

"I'm not a doctor or anything. I just happen to know a few things about stitching stuff, administering drugs and giving injections. From my little knowledge and with the few equipment I possess, I can boldly say to you that this girl's brain's disoriented," Enoch said.

Enoch had asked the girl to lay on the bed which used to be my bed before she came and he had examined her and even asked her some general questions. I couldn't believe he was agreeing with Grams that the girl had lost her memory. Anyways, he was going to fix it.

"Can't you fix it?" I asked.

"I cannot. Look, you should take this girl to a psychiatric home or something, where they could help her out and help her regain her memory," Enoch said.

The insane girl sat up on the bed immediately, looking really terrified. "I don't wanna go anywhere," She said.

I ignored her. "Of course, Enoch. I don't plan on keeping a stranger in my house," I said.

"Watch it, young man. This is my house and I'd decide who gets to live here," Grams said.

"I don't want any problem with people of her kind," I said.

"What do you mean?" Grams asked.

"Everything she had on the day we saw her was all designer stuff worth thousands, if not millions of dollars. You hung her undies outside, those freaking things were also designer stuff. I don't want any issue with people like them, I won't get into trouble for helping someone the same way my father did," I yelled.

Grams' shoulders drooped. I had just reminded her of something that hurt every member of our family and I wished honestly that I had controlled my damned emotions but I had been pushed to the wall.

"I think I should go," Enoch said, packing his stuff.

"Thanks for everything," I muttered.

He gave a small smile and walked out of the room.

"Grams, I'm sorry," I said, after he had left.

"I'll call the psychiatric center in the town," Grams said and walked away.

I ran my fingers through my blonde hair in deep thoughts then I felt a hand touch mine.

I looked down and my heart skipped a beat on seeing her stare at me with her blue eyes. I brushed aside the feelings and flung her hand away from my wrist and this sent her off balance as she collapsed on the bed.

I couldn't help but laugh at her mockingly.

Her face turned red with anger and she did something I never saw coming.

She sat up and started pulling my arms with both of her hands probably with the intention of making me fall too.

Of course, that was impossible because I had a great stamina. I mean, when you have muscles and six packs and you don't miss a heavy workout routine everyday, how exactly could a Barbie-like girl pull you down?

I slipped on something that had been left lying on the floor and I ended up collapsing on top of her.

Trust the dumb girl to think she was the cause of my downfall.

She started laughing like a chipmunk, apparently pleased with herself.

"Why aren't you laughing?" She asked.

"Cause I don't want to," I replied.

"You don't like me," She said.

"You're correct," I affirmed.

"But why don't you like me? Did I do something wrong?" She asked.

"You didn't do anything on purpose. It's just that you're rich," I said and stood up.

"How'd you know that?" She asked.

"It's obvious. Your manicure, pedicure, your skin, even your hair makes it obvious. Besides, that outfit you were putting on the day we saw you is another proof I have, not to mention the jewelries you had on as well," I replied.

"So what if I'm rich? Is anything wrong with that?" She asked.

"Yes. I hate rich people," I said to her.

"Why is that so?" She asked.

"I don't want to stress your brain, just forget about it," I said.

"Does that mean you can't even try to like me?" She asked.

I scoffed, "I can't try to. Liking someone is something that comes off naturally, you can't try to like someone. And it's not just about you being a rich kid, I just don't like you and I can't place the reason as to why I feel that way towards you, no offence."

"But I like you, and I like your house as well," She said.

"Thanks, but I still don't like you and I most definitely don't like your presence here," I said.

"Is it because you think I'm rich?" She asked.

"Rich people have problems and I don't want to be a part of it," I said.

"I won't be like other rich people you know, I promise," She said.

"I'm sending you to a psychiatric home. The doctors will try to make you better and will put up your picture everywhere, so your family can come get you," I said.

She shook her head, apparently not agreeing with my decision.

"I don't want to go anywhere, I want to stay with you and your grandmother," I said.

"You don't even know if we're bad people and you want to stay with us," I objected.

"Please, don't send me anywhere," She said.

I heard the sound of a horn blaring all over the place.

"Come," I told her.

"Come to where?" She asked.

I took her by the hand and led her all the way outside.

"Where are you taking me?" She whined.

I saw the local psychiatric center vehicle parked outside. The center had been built by the last councillor during his electoral campaign and so far, getting help there was free and the center had been of great help to many people with mental illness.

Two men dressed in white overalls alighted the vehicle.

"They're here for you," I told her.

"I don't wanna go," She said, struggling to break free from my grip.

The two men approached me and their name tags showed Doctor Sam and Doctor Timothy respectively.

"Is she the patient?" Doctor Timothy asked.

"Yes, as you can see," I told both of them.

They nodded their heads understandingly and took her from me.

"Calm down, you'll be fine," Doctor Sam said, trying to cradle her.

"Let me go!" She yelled.

"You'll meet friends there who are like you and...."

"Justin, don't let them take me along with them. They're talking to me like I'm a crazy person, I'm not crazy," She yelled.

Tears were flowing freely from her eyes as she was being hoisted onto the vehicle, staring at me once more with pleading red eyes.

I ignored the guilt tugging at my conscience and watched as they successfully put her in the vehicle and drove off.

I heaved a deep sigh and walked back inside with slow and calculated steps.

"You feel better now that she's no longer here, right?" Grams asked sarcastically as I walked into the living room.

"I do," I responded and went to the bedroom, where she had just been only a few minutes ago.

I stared out the window as the bus drove off. She was at the back of the bus hitting the windshield desperately as tears slid down her eyes.

I watched as the vehicle left and dropped the curtains.

She had called me by my first name.

And I didn't even get to know hers.

Thanks for reading.

Please, vote and comment.

Much love.