Life has not really been fair to me since the moment I came to know what pain felt like. Sometimes I wonder, why it has to be me out of all people, maybe out of exasperation towards my unnecessarily pitiful life or livid thereof, but every time I came up with no such succinct reply that can satiate my curiosity and put an halt to my endless introspection, or maybe it has never been one in the first place.

No matter how hard I try not to get overwhelmed by people or circumstances, no matter how much I try to convince myself that those are nothing but mere hurdles to hinder my way and to propel my restraint on the edge before a fall, but still I let them overpower my thoughts, leaving me completely disoriented.

I guess, I can't help it. It's way too stronger than I thought, because I'm having this very feeling, right at this very moment, and the worst part is, when I feel that vulnerable, I shrink into myself, leaving no room for feeling anymore.

I can't just let go of it like that, 'cause I believe, it's easier to be said than done. Even today's mere event has lingered on me further more than it should. Not that it hurt less or I'm not used to, but I can't bear with unfairness, not even for a single moment, and that's why I can't just brush it off.

"Cause your pains will ignite you for later, for more requisite work," muses my subconscious.

I let out a deep sigh and stand up, shaking my head.

And this subliminal replies always get me moving, providing enough provisions for me to strive, washing away all the sordid details of my everyday life.

Sometimes I presume, what if the situation would be different and I would have my family beside me, what if Eric would have been here, what if I could go back in time, turn back the clock and stop everything from happening, maybe and only maybe I could have been living a different life.

But the thing is, I can't do that. That's why 'what if's make me so sad.

After getting back, I wrap up the due work in laundry. Since the household devices and bots are away, I had to do all the chores, designated for them, along with mine, including moping, cleaning, and doing dishes and so on and forth.

I couldn't find any bruises or swells or blisters, just like Gray mentioned. But the pain was immense. It was difficult to even stand properly. Hopefully, there was no severe internal injury. Though I couldn't be cent assured for the absence of medical bots, I think I will be alright. I guess, he was right. They indeed give shock like heart attack, but leaves no physical injury. And as for the pain, it even faded away after a couple of hours.

The Princetons have previously left for the Chanteuse Ball, in the downtown Metron, in honor of Chief Livonn (CL), Yeon 441 Brooks, for winning the presidential election along with Chief Governor (CV), Quint Vikings or Lings or something like that.

In short, it's a sort of after party where all the distinguished people of the city came to get sloshed including the Royalty as well. I guess, for only a few occasions, the bots turn off their liquor resistance circuit, and Chanteuse Ball is one of them.

But to be pretty honest, I care less. In fact, politics has always failed to intrigue me and I'm not ashamed of that. However, everyone's corrupted and I've accepted the truth that the situation ain't gonna change any sooner, so there's no need or point of wasting my time or energy on thinking about those useless headaching factors.

Besides, there's nothing left to be thought of. We are all bound to this irreplaceable never-ending system, and can't do anything but feel disappointed for our bootless CV.

And right now, I just want to concentrate on my studies, obtaining the dream, I have harbored for so long.

Before leaving, Princetons made it clear that, if I try something foolish, it might have consequences. And like always, I care less.

I was on the moving stairs, coming down with Ashley's dotted hand-scarf when she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Carter!! Where's my polka dotted scarf?"

Getting off the stairs, I threw it in her direction and instead of her, Brit caught and handed it over to her sister. At this, Ashley huffed in disbelief and glared at me like she was gonna kill me right away.

"Where are the manners, you nerdy pimp?"

"Never knew, she had one," Brit replied, on my behalf.

"That's true," I assured with a smirk.

Ashley scoffed. "You are hopeless." She then turned her attention to her sister. "Let's go, Brit! Or we'll gotta be late. I heard mama saying, there's gonna be a lot of dishies out there and I can't wait to bag one. It'll be fun, don't you think so?"

"Ain't that too obvious, sister?"

"You know what, I really admire your cute ability to ruin my moments." Ashley gave Brit her signature forced smile.

"Oh! I'll take it as a compliment. But keep your eyes up, sister, I'm gonna kill it there with panache," Brit boasted off, making Ashley chuckle with incredulity.

"Huh? You and panache? Do you even know what's that?"

"At least better than you. You are way too flashy."

"And what are you? Wait, let me tell you," Ashley snaps back. "You are so miserable, always preferring shit-colored outfits, wearing shabby accessories, getting weird haircuts, thinking yourself to be on the top of the world and you know what, that really sucks."

"Huh? Whatever! It's a robot thing. It won't ever get to your dumb head. You're just jealous that I look both smarter and more presentable than you."

"What did you just say?" Ashley looked at Brittany, her body fuming with pure livid, ready to throw a cats' fight right away.

And it's always fun to watch them bicker, arguing over nonsensical issues, throwing fist fight and then giving up for nothing.

"Girls!!" Tiffany Princeton, their mother, my stepmother, screeched, silencing them in the process. "Enough! Stop this nonsense right now! I thought you don't want me to block your credits. But I guess, I'm wrong."

"Of course not, mama," they protested in unison.

"Let's go then. Shall we?"

"Yes!"

With that, she walked out of the front door with her studied gait.

The girls glared down at each other, before turning on their heels and going out of the door.

And the best part is, they ain't gonna come back tonight, so I'll be having some alone time to myself, with less annoyance.

****

I like the way people used to sing earlier in their mind, whenever they like, no matter wherever they were or whatever they were doing.

Now it's all like, you have do when you are asked to, and if you don't oblige, you'll be condemned or maybe doomed.

But like always, I care less. I like to sing whenever I'm alone, like this time, right now, cause there's no one to judge with petty mean words.

So here I am, singing and mopping, and swirling around the mop as if it were my dance partner.

If you
Are too good to be true
And would it be alright if I
Pulled you closer
How could I know
One day I'd wake up feeling more
But I had already reached the shore
Guess we were ships in the night
Night, night

This may sound weird or old-schooled and I will give you that, but it's what I like the most. 'Cause it's what that feels so real, so unalloyed like fresh burnt iron, so rational in this unrealistic puppetic  world.

When I was younger, people used to say that I got it from my mother.

I heard from dad that she was an amazing singer, always trying to renovate herself, create something new, out of everything that surrounded her. She was wholly devoted to music and music meant everything to her. It was such a natural symbiosis that she maintained till her last day.

Her voice was so temperate that it could warm up even the coldest hearts, so natural that it could calm down the racing nerves, so deeper that it had the ability to heal the battered souls.

That's exactly how dad described her.

Just like her voice, she was truly an incredible woman, the first thing for what dad fell so deeply and madly in love with her, like a bee drawn to flowers. They were so perfect, so in love, completely each others' missing parts. They were like soulmates.

It just gives me shudder to even think about how bad dad must have felt when she was diagnosed with stage-4 brain cancer. It was too late to do anything. He couldn't help but watch his soulmate's dying in front of his eyes. It's such an unspoken heartache to feel utterly helpless and insecure, when your beloved is gone forever. It was no exception for dad too.

I wish, I could get to know her more, knowing about what she liked or disliked, or what she wanted me to grow up to be.

But all I can remember are her eyes and the way she used to smile, so beautiful that it could melt anyone's heart, and the lullaby that she used to sing me to sleep.

And now I realize, how much I've loved her all this along, without even knowing her for so long.

A subtle smile crosses my pale face, a sudden little joy surges through me.

I have another thing of hers. It's a dress and so ravishing in its own way. That burnt orange color of its befits its whole ambience. The sleeveless border and the deep V cut at the front, have made it simple yet striking.

Whenever I touch the dress, I feel like mother is just next to me, comforting me, giving me strength for another day, another struggle. I love this feeling, I love being close to her.

Nostalgia fills through me.

After wrapping up the chores for the night, I retire to my attic, my separate small sector.

I take quick light pace to get at my doors. Since it's a one-way lock, nobody can barge inside my attic unless I let them in. Hence I feel a little safe and warm inside here.

Upon reaching there, I lock the door cautiously with my controller and then go inside my little closet and come out with a square glass screen. I carry it discreetly, fearing it may break if I slip it by any chance.

It's a digital portrait of my own family of three. Me, dad and mother.

We looked like a happy family, so content in our own small world. Just us. She was holding me there, so tenderly, so with love, as a smile left her warm pool of green eyes. She was in that same orange dress gown, the hem of which was resting royally on the floor, and she was looking so beautiful.

Whereas dad was smiling down at his wife and daughter, with such a pride as if he had got hold of the most precious thing in the world. And he knew, that was it.

I can feel a small smile stretching across my lips and a tear falling off my cheek, making me shiver in goosebumps of a bizarre feeling, I can't even name, but consistently nagging me to pour out.

I rub my cheeks and eyes, to get rid of the blurred vision, 'cause dad has taught me better than that and I can't let him down.

I zoom in and out at their faces, revolve it so that I can get a 360 degree view of their surrounding, in hope that someday, maybe, I will find something that will lead me to my destiny.

But it has always been the same old photograph, no matter however I try to get it. A large photograph of some abstract art on their right wall, a big walk-in closet on their left, while the ceiling was adorned with a large roof window, allowing the light to brightening the whole frosty glass room. And nothing else.

But dad told me, that if one day I feel like I have more than enough of my life and everything, then this photo will lead me to my liberty and hope.

But I still don't get him. Maybe it's all about timing, maybe the time hasn't come or maybe it has. I don't know really.

I restore the portrait back to where it was inside the closet, walk out of there as the door closes behind me.

I look back. Through the glass, I can see it as cold lights glisten out of it, making me smile at the sudden warmth, I'm feeling right now, inside my chest.

Maybe she was not there to see me grow up, but she's always there in my heart, and no one can take her place away.

As for dad, his ideals and ethics are in my blood and bones. He had taught me one thing so very well : dignity over everything. Even if the world comes to an end, I would still have to choose honor over my life, and so will I do.

All of a sudden, a continuous beep goes off and I already know someone has broke in, either a human or a spy bot. And since, there's a minimal possibility for the latter, I'll stick to the former one.

I press the white button on my controller and a glass tile of my floor soars up to create a hologram miniature of the mansion. Sensing the beep and the red spot in there, I shuffle the hologram and focus the particular region, so the interior shows up.

A movement can be seen there in the kitchen, but the face is vague. Instantly, I turn up the firewall barrier, a special coding to manipulate each and every lock inside the house, so that the intruder can't escape from here.

Since the shockers, those tiny black beetle-like bots are far off, it's time that I have to use my martial art skills to take out the intruder. So be it.

Locking the room and crossing the passageway hurriedly, I step inside the bigger sector and take light steps so quietly as possible, looking at my watch, often now and then, for the exact direction I'm heading to, and then finally approaching the source of the distinct sound discreetly, with an electrically modified baseball bat in hand. I kept it, in case some situation like now arises.

A dim light is illuminating from the refrigerator. I can only see the intruder's back as he goes on pulling out something from the crisper.

Tip-toeing near the kitchen, I crouch down under the island, as the meddler looks up with a bread in his mouth. But again I missed his face.

I lets out a deep sigh, to catch my breath, then tighten my grip on the bat and crouch-walk forward. Reaching the edge, I peep out from the corner, but surprisingly there's no one in sight, only both doors of the refrigerator are dangling open, that faint light from there is illuminating the kitchen.

I rise myself and walk up to there to close the doors. As I was about to do so, I felt a hot breath on the crook of my nape, startling me.

Instinctively, without even looking, I move around on heels and swings the bat with the absolute strength of my slender arms. I guess, I collides with the intruder's chest or torso.

As expected, it took a blow on him as he cries out in pain, crouching down on his knees at a quite distance.

But what is it? His voice sounds so familiar.

Closing the doors, I swiftly switch on the lights using my watch, looking down, I don't why but I find him so familiar, even the mess of his jet black hair, and refrains myself from beating the hell out of him.

I can't see his face, cause he keeps his head down, groaning and crouching back and forth, keeping his hand on his torso.

So I hit his torso.

I positions the bat again, ready for another blow, as I look at him with a murderous glare, waiting for his next move.

"Hey you! Who sent you here? Tell me first before I lose it," I bark at him. "And I guess, you will be least happy to encounter when I lose it. So be a good boy and act your brain."

"Goddamn it, Elly!"

His voice freezes me on spot. My body goes still as I blink my eyes for umpteenth time to relate things, but it's time that nothing's interpreting or co-relating with this voice.

There's only one person left who used to call me with this name except dad, and it's absolutely impossible for him to head overseas and get right in front of me.

"Damn! You still hasn't lost that rebellious spunk of yours!"

He winces in pain, in front of me. I still haven't seen his face, but I'm afraid, it might be him, and I don't know why I don't want him to be him. I really don't want.

I'm confused, debating whether I should trust on my instincts or I'm just hearing things, 'cause it's not possible for him to show up like this way, at this hour, and not especially inside this mansion, which is battered with thousands of encryption, cyber locks, and DNA locks.

At least, it's not possible for a normal person. Last time I remembered, he was the simplest guy, that I ever knew. It's just impossible.

Since dad's funeral, I haven't heard anything from him, except the piece of information that he's overseas, somewhere in Turkey, from one of his closet friends. He disappeared like the monsoon winds, without any trace or foretelling.

I never understood why he did that to me, when he was well aware that, at that time, I could only rely on him, I could only trust him, I needed him for putting my head on his shoulder and feel safe in his embrace, just like always I did.

At the end, he left too.

I was standing alone and scurrying into the rabbit holes, waiting for him. I searched for a while, but I guess, he wasn't willing to even see me, that's why he never showed up. Then at time, I stopped waiting, but there's still a part of me that keeps on craving to see him, ask him for answers to my endless questions, beat him up for leaving me alone, and embrace him to feel the familiar warmth, I missed for days.

I feel my eyes getting heavy with the unshed tears, the bat falls off my hands, creating a thud on the glass floor in the process, and then I finally muster up the courage to speak confidently.

"Who are you?" I whisper discreetly, afraid if I speak louder anymore, my voice may break.

The intruder slowly raises his head, his black eyes boring into mine, dry traces of his tears past his cheeks, and the cause is me.

And the reason, my breath gets hitched in my throat, is the person in front of me.

My best friend.

"Eric Christhoff?" I breathe out without a fail.

"Finally!" Eric grins widely and that smile is so infectious that I'm afraid, I may let my guards down.

"Here I thought, you might've forgotten. And...and uh...that was one hell of a blow. I wouldn't be surprised if I got several broken ribs and hemorrhages." He chuckled.

"Don't worry, your ribs are perfect. I hit your torso, hence can't promise anything there."

The rigidness in my voice must have startled him, as the amusement leaves his eyes, followed by deep pools of concern and wary.

He tries to get up and even succeeds after a good deal of wincing and cringing in severe pain, and lean against the counter to support himself, both his hands gripping the edge tightly, his legs crossing at the ankle, while his eyes are on me.

I feel a hitch of guilt in my chest as it rises and falls rapidly, I look at him with the same intense, like we are in sort of stare off.

My inside is screaming him out. "Stop with this torment, please!" But nothing comes out of me.

"How have you been, Elly?" He asks discreetly, his hand slowly rubbing his torso unconsciously.

He's starting to thaw me and I can't let that happen.

Out of blue, I start chuckling, though not sure what's it for: anger or surreality of the moment.

Eric reciprocates my deeds, as he chuckles, nervousness prominent in there.

Then abruptly I stop myself, looks at him with that look and he stops himself as well, gulping giddily.

Failing to succumb to look at my way and maybe failing to his conscience as well, he looks away, wiping his mouth and jaw to get rid of any hint of sweat.

I scoff at him, make my way out of the kitchen to get some painkillers from the cabinet nearby, and that's when his voice stops me on way.

"I'm right here ! You know, right?" I wait for another moment and when he says nothing for that time being, I don't turn back and get at the cabinet, open the door with a light slide and take out a small glass bottle, filled with painkillers.

I return to the kitchen, fill a glass with water, while all along the time, I felt his eyes watching my each movement. I take a pill out, dump it in the water, and twirl it until the pill gets completely dissolved, 'cause I know, Eric always had a hard time chugging a pill down his throat. I don't know if it has changed over these past years, but I'll do what I can do.

I place the glass beside him on the counter, with a little force, startling him, and making the water spill a bit.

At first he looks at the glass, then takes it up and looks through the glass, checking something.

That asshole!

"I haven't put zinc phosphide there, so stop stalling and drink it up already," I bark through my gritted teeth.

"No..uh..no...I..uh..I didn't mean...it," he stutters and empties the glass in a moment. "But what was it?"

I look at him, absolutely exasperated and incredulous, I can't just believe that he's doubting me.

Sighing deeply I decide to answer his question. "Painkillers. To reduce the abdominal muscle pain for momentary. I don't know if there's any hemorrhages, so it'll be great if you get it treated after leaving first."

I was about to walk past him with the bottle in hand to restore it to its place, but he stops me, one of his hands gripping my wrist in a firm hold.

"Look at me! Elly, look at me!" He demands, his hands cupping my face to make me look at him. I bite down on my cheeks to avoid any unwanted situation.

"Ain't you gonna argue with me , Elly?" I can feel the crack in his voice, he gulps, his eyes swarmed with various emotion; concern, annoyance, frustration, regret, pain or maybe...I don't know.

I take his hands off my face. "What's there to argue about, Christhoff?"

His eyes show how much hurt he is by this action of mine. But we still need to be even, hence I can't just go easy on him.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I know, I've been the worst best friend ever and hurt you a lot, but listen to me, I had my reasons," he tries to making things sensible, trying to relax me with his hands, but I keep on dodging his touch.

"You hurt me? You hurt me, huh?" I looks at him, unshed tears prickling my eyes at the brink. "You fucking put a bullet through me. Does that make sense? Huh, Christhoff?"

"Yes! Yes, it does. I'm sorry. I really am." He puts his head down and sighs deeply.

"Stop with this bullshit, okay? Your sorry doesn't count. Your words doesn't count. Show me your actions, Christhoff. I really need to see that."

"Elly, I'm sorry."

As soon as those words comes out of his mouth, my hand strikes hard against his left cheek, and I'm sure it'll leave a mark for, at least, a couple of days. He didn't see it coming.

His hand covers right where I has slapped him. When he retracts his hand from there, and swipes his thumb across the corner of his lips, I see the blood peering out of the corner. I gasp at what I have done.

Well done, Elle!

"Okay, I deserve that," he grunts and sniffles audibly.

I feel bad, it was so impulsive of me, I shouldn't have done so. But I can't let the facade go down.

"No! You haven't got anything of what you put me through."

"Elly, just let me explain," he tries to reason.

"I don't wanna listen to you and whatever nonsense you are going to spew. So get out from this house," I speak emotionlessly. "Right now."

"No, I won't," he retorts. "I haven't just put up with so much hassle for nothing."

I scoff. "You know what, I don't care."

"Really?" He stalls. "Okay. Then tell me so, looking right into my eyes. If you do, I will leave you alone."

I look at him, rage filling through me, fueling me up, tears threatening to spill out anytime, my lips trembles with livid, but nothing comes out, and finally I look away.

I can see him grinning from the corner of my eyes. How can he smile at such serious moment? He's turned into an asshole for real.

"Hmm, that's what I thought. Who knows you better than me?"

He comes to hug me, opening his arms to pull me in, but I duck myself and get out of his enclosure.

"Stay away. Don't you dare touch me," I warn with a serious look, which he shrugs off. "I mean it."

"Oh okay. Just relax. We will talk when we are cool and good. Okay?" he assures with a small smile.

I chuckles in disbelief, my hand pinching the bridge of the nose. "If we won't be 'cool' or 'good', you won't be standing here, in front of me, in one piece. So we talk now."

I fold my arms over my chest, while he sighs exasperatedly.

"Why are you doing this, Elly? Shouldn't you be yelling, throwing things at me, or beating the shit out of me like you said, or I don't know...doing things like the old days?" His eyes fills up as he says those and steps closer, with his arms fold.

I don't move an inch, holding my breath, my eyes looking up at his, trying to get a grip of what he's trying to saying.

"I don't understand. Who are you? You are not the Elly, I knew."

"Stop it, Christhoff!"

"See? My Elly never called me with my last name or full name. Tell me, who you really are."

At this point, my heart constricts, and I feel like someone has stabbed me right through my chest, and I'm not sure, how long I can hold myself.

Eric Christhoff is contagious. He might have changed a lot in these past years, but he still has that effect on me.

"No, I should be the one asking you that? Who are you? I barely know you," I retort, my voice calm and controlled.

"You abandoned me, let me crawl into my skin, and I felt like shit. I never knew, living everyday in pain like a corpse is worse than dying at one shot, and you know what? The best part?....I'm past that, thanks to you. Anyways, I'm off-track," I chuckle, mockery draping in my voice.

"And you know what hurt the most?" I stop chuckling and my expression gets serious, as I thought of the time, I had to face it all alone. "You left without a goodbye." 

"Elly, it wasn't intenti..." He was about to take a step towards me as he speaks, but I stop him by holding out my hand, gesturing him to stop.

"Don't Elly me. I'm not done yet." His eyes reflect pain, his lips trembles, and he looks away from me, firming his grip on the edge of the counter.

"And now you showed up like nothing happened. You can pretend Christhoff, but I can't erase those days off my memory when I shrunk into myself, waiting and wishing that you are not dead. Then one day Rex told me, you were in Turkey. I was relieved, but then another thought kept nagging me. Why Christhoff? You contacted Rex, but not me. Why? My best friend is not like that. Then why?"

I look at him, my eyes begging for answers for each of my questions, that kept bothering me for years, and now that he's here, I wanna get rid of them.

No answer comes. I sigh defeatedly, hang my head down, looking at my feet, somehow embarrassed or afraid of the fact that he has changed, for worse.

Right at that moment, I feel two sturdy arms encircling them around my waist, pulling me closer to a firm chest, giving off enough warmth to reduce the cold of my grief stricken self. I find myself resting my head on the chest, trying to forget the intellectual distance between us.

"You don't need to hold it back. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere anymore," he whispers, nuzzling his head in my hair.

"The guards you build around yourself to look all rough and tough, but don't you see, it's what makes you lifeless, like a corpse?" He pats my head.

"You really have grown up, Elly, and I know, you'll understand. I missed you and I regret that I made that choice five years ago, but it was for the best, for both of us."

This hits a nerve, I pull away forcefully, look at him, and I bet, my eyes are bloodshot, but I didn't let a single tear fall till now.

A worried frown creases in between his eyebrows, he sighs in defeat. "You still don't know how to stop, huh?"

Sniffling and shaking my head sideways, I reply returning the same equanimity as he gave. "NO, no, Christhoff !" I chuckle. "We are four years apart and I'm the younger, I'll give that, but what made you think that you made the right choice, which is according to your assumptions..."

"God! Elly! What are you..."

"No, no! Let me finish. Which is according to your, I don't know, but baseless assumptions, was best for both of us? I don't get that. Please do enlighten."

Then some erratic deliberation comes by, sudden yet overriding. I look at him, somehow in incredulity or trepidation. "Hold on.

How did you get in here?" I hold onto my breath, waiting for something, what I'm not sure of, and I can't help but being pessimistic here. "If I'm not that wrong, I certainly did put on the DNA locks, encryption and hologram codings. Did you break them in? If so, then why no damn alarms are peeling off till now? And if not, how on earth did you get in here?" My voice is unusually calm, I sigh.

Eric crosses his arms, fixes his gaze on me so that maybe I can see right through him to decide whether he's lying or not. It's something that we used to do as kids, but now I think I should be having second thoughts, but to be pretty honest, nothing came.

"I see, you have a lot of questions for me, Elly. But don't worry. This time I won't escape in case you're wondering, at least not until I answer your every query," he assures, he's quieter than I thought him to be. "Just promise me one thing."

"Okay, but I hope, you won't make me promise something I can't keep."

"Don't worry, I won't," he confirms with a faint smile.

"Okay, what is it?"

"Don't interrupt me while I'm speaking, don't judge me neither."

I let a moment pass. I wonder, how distant we have become in these five years. Would it be the same if had he not left? I guess, I have no answer for that.

"Can do that," I reply with a small smile.

"Well, so from where do you want me to start?" he asks calmly.

"From where it all started."

He clamps his lips together, gulps and blinks a few times, sweat beads are now prominent on his forehead, and I already know, he's hesitating. Maybe the distance and the cold between us are making hesitant, uncertain of how I may react.

"Oh c'mon! Don't tell me you are afraid of me?"

He scoffs.

"That means you are."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Don't worry. I guarantee you, I'm no oceanic white tip and moreover I'll end up puking my guts out if I even try to swallow you, so technically I mean no harm to you. Therefore, you can speak with no fear."

Considering my previous fit, this mild act of mine must have got him taken aback, and he shouldn't be 'cause I don't want a deadlock between us.

Hey ! Hey you, mindless bipolar wench!

Shut up!

He stifles a chuckle and walks away from me to the long glass window just beside the kitchen island, leans against it with one hand on the pane while his eyes are distant.

"I'm on a run from UuMAC."

As soon as those words left his mouth, it feels like a thunder blazing right on my spine, making me feeling the burn again, but this time in my chest.

"I'm sorry my interrupting you, but did you by any chance...perhaps mistakenly mention...UuMAC, the rehabilitation camp?" I ask discreetly, fighting my way up from incredulity and agitation.

"Yes!" He turns towards me so that he's facing me, his arms folding neatly. "That would be the same."

After hearing that, I'm not sure whether I should laugh or cry. With the Princetons and the med school drama, I thought, I already have too much on my plate right now. But I guess, that wasn't enough for the day.

UuMAC is another name for living hell, where one will be tortured till their last breath. That place is designated for only humans who were sent there off for committing severe crime, and the rumor has it that passing one single day down there is worse than facing a surgery without anesthesia.

I try to say something, but instead my throat goes dry and words get entangled at the back of the throat to form a lump, it's hard to even gulp.

"Don't draw any lines right now. I want you to hear my part," he states calmly.

"Okay."

He sighs deeply before he starts again. "Sebastian Carter didn't die of uncalled cardiac arrest, but it was made to look like so."

I chuckle lightly, I think he's joking, but I'm not in a mood for that. "Wha-what are...you talkin' 'bout?"

"He was murdered. It was a back-stabbing and pre-planned."

A sudden wave of impromptu sadness breaks through me, making me stand before a cliff, urging me to jump off there. I can feel my cheeks wet, nose clogged, and I already know, I finally let it go. Is this how people feel when they hit the rock bottom? I guess, I just did so.

It's just so unfair. I definitely wasn't expecting such answer. I wasn't prepared for any of this. It's just not fair.

"Rex was somehow involved with Red Rebels, so he got a rumor from down there and informed me right away. With his help, I looked into the matter and what I found, that shocked me too."

I look at him, my vision blurred, my eyes wide with curiosity.

"He was involved with HERON...uh you must have heard of...the largest anti-bot group of NY and even across the world. Did he ever mention that before...to you?" Eric asks discreetly, wary fills his eyes as soon as his meet mine.

"NO, he didn't. Not for once. Rather he said the opposite," I reply, averting my gaze, trying to comprehend with the fact that my father, who was my true friend, or what I thought so, lied to my face every single day, and that he was killed.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to go on?" He approaches me cautiously, places his hand on my head, runs his fingers through my hair, an assurance that he always used to do to let me know that he would always be there no matter whatever choice I make. And after so many years., today he did that too.

I look at me with tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, I smile subtly which he returns by pulling me closer and embracing me.

"Yes! I wanna hear it all."

He pulls away and gives me the smile that says, he's proud of me.

"When papa died, Sebastian took me in, gave me everything I ever have needed. And after I came to know 'bout his murder, I couldn't help but felt this need to avenge him. I already felt something off about the whole ordeal, the way it all happened...it made my suspicion grow stronger, hence I fed Rex off some penny to dig in."

He pauses for a moment, looking at me to make sure he's not rushing with his words.

"Sebastian must have got hold of some illegal confidential issues, so it must have stirred up the Royalty. The rest are my assumptions though, but I guess, there was a mole who exposed him. Due to lack of evidence and fear for the buzz that might have followed if there had been a secret execution, they let him go, but made sure that his days being counted."

"And at that time, you were so broken that I couldn't have told you any of these, neither you could understand, so I decided to go on with my plan on my own."

"Of course Rex got me a few help. It was a human, one of the assigned docs at your father's office. He mixed Hemlock in his insulin to cause the cardiac arrest."

My eyes widen in horror, I can't believe my own ears, my body goes numb at that moment, all I can feel, is the relentless course of descending tears that fall past my cheeks.

"He was instructed by a Livonn. I thought, that was it, so I took care of both of them. But that wasn't the end."

My brows get scrunched up at that moment. "What exactly do you mean that?"

"The mastermind was someone else, a royal one. He deceived his own kind and did some illegal cross-breeding, of what Sebastian came to know. So after the failed trial, he had his men kill him."

I close my eyes for a moment, Eric pauses as well.

Inhale!

Exhale!

"Why did you stop?" I seethe through my gritted teeth. "Finish it already."

"I didn't knew about that at that time, so I missed him. Before I could make further plans, I got red-handed by the Pyhogs. They put me straight to Filli and without a trial, they sentenced me lifetime in UuMAC. But thanks to Rex, he got help from HERON to help me escape. And I did succeed. Even I also attended Sebastian's funeral, but they got trail of me, so I had to choice but to flee, hence....I left without an explanation. I'm sorry, Elly."

I heard that, a truth can change one's contemplation, one's way of seeing thing, but I never knew that a truth can turn one's world upside down and even alter one wholly...until now.

A reunion of the missing pieces of the long forgotten puzzle and a confession, is all it took to change the old me.

©Shena