#19 – Previous parts in the serie can be found here. A weekly blog post where I share pieces of Mia’s story and journey (as I’m currently writing the novel!).
They say the truth will set you free, but they leave out the part where it’ll first hurt and shatter everything. I rather hold on to the lie a little while longer, for ignorance is bliss.
I seem to have put my education to great use. It’s two a.m.; If they could see me now. I’ve managed to keep everything under control and as I stand in the hallway admiring the quietness that surrounds the house, I feel a sense of relief. With my back against the wall, I slowly drop myself onto the floor, merely in solace that everything’s going to sort itself out. One would think working nights was all calm and rest (though, it usually is), but most people forget that, for troubled souls, nightfall becomes a platform for multitude of pain, sorrow and bad memories. And that the calmness surrounding nighttime erupts chaos and like a volcano, it all eventually explodes. In the stillness of things and between the boys retreating to their rooms (according to house rules) and Emma falling asleep, I have an appreciation for a moment alone in silence. And for that I gladly give myself a short time to reboot.
The feeling that my bladder might explode at any point alarms me. Back in her room, I check on her once more just to make sure before I take a quick break upstairs. Thankfully, the sound of her heavy breathing reinsures me to proceed.
Afterwards, I inspect the house and in the aftermath of an emotional breakdown from perhaps a suicidal teen, I make a quick phone call to a fellow nightwatcher at another youth house. But whenever I call (whenever I do remember to do so), I’m never certain of who’s going to be on the other line. This time though, it’s Siri, who’s kind enough to boost my confidence by confirming how handled things.Yet, her motivational boost doesn’t last long and her line of questions sends me in a circle of fear and doubts.
“You think she’ll sleep for the rest of the night?” Siri asks.
In my mind it’s a yes and a no answer in which I can’t be too sure of. But my reply is simple “I hope so.” Which I truly do, for she needs it, above all, I realize more than ever that she’s in pain and seeks relief but what’s more relevant is who or what will offer it to her. I understand why death is an easy choice.
“Not to scare you or anything,” she pauses which is never a good thing to do and at worst to start a sentence with ‘not to scare you but…’. Her words brings chill to my spine. I don’t easily get scared and I like to think of myself as a solution oriented, however, mostly when it comes to other people’s problems and misfortunes. But way to go on not putting the fear in me, Siri.
“From experience it’s quiet before the storm hits. I’ve been made aware of her situation and I’ll assist in anyway possible, but…” she continues, she sounds confidence but to my frustration, I can’t fathom her need to halt as if it’s storytelling and there’s a need to increase the suspense. I’ve got plenty of suspense already (like working nights and being afraid, not of the dark but of dark rooms!). She truly gives the impression that we’ve got all night, ironically though, we do.
“…but,” and she’s back “…you should keep watch all night and be prepared for the worst.”
I know the drill of analyzing and to assess any type of situations. To be prepared. I guess, this is the part of the job I particularly find exhausting; expecting or even preparing for the worst as if life doesn’t provide enough bad luck, we have to create imaginative ones. I mean, I can expect and prepare for the worst but my worst are usually dark or distorted from reality, which serves no purpose.
Siri and I don’t share much afterwards and we keep our experiences to ourselves. Yet, I suspect she’s hoping to not hear from me any time soon. We say our goodbyes and hang-up. I’m hoping whatever worst case scenarios Siri has in mind will remain there.