Mute Chapter 6
COPYRIGHT © [YEAR 2024] [ZAHIER ADAMS]
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by S.A copyright law, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This story is a work of fiction.
“Life doesn’t get easier or more forgiving, we get stronger and more resilient.” – …
Where there is good there is evil. Paths will cross someday and truth shall always prevail
Chapter 6: Confrontation
Someone is watching me, I feel it. I’m not paranoid. These faint whispers tell me I’m not alone. Am I to fear this person watching me? The alley… who was it that evening? Even though I felt alive, it was a momentary feeling of exhilaration.
“It’s our eighteenth birthday,” . My brother is off to college next month, and I’m living in the basement of my dad’s house. My dad still hates me. My mom had a stroke and passed away last year.
“I miss her.”
Dad inherited a large sum of money and started a company which left us well off. Or should I say, it left him, Grace, and Kyle well off since I haven’t seen a cent of it. All I got was a meal and, now and again, a t-shirt while Kyle got a brand new sports car for his birthday. The only reason Dad got me something today is because we have important investors over for the party. He’s expanding his business. He invested in property and bought a new yacht and has girlfriend, ten years younger than he is.
“Yes, by now he told everyone I’m a mute,”. “And he cares and loves us all equally. Grace has become his favorite; she’s Daddy’s blue-eyed girl. He calls her princess.”
I’ve lost quite a bit of weight. Kyle has put on some. Dad’s gray hair has grown longer, and his beard as well.I would say he aged quite abit, yet his young girlfriend probably makes him feel younger. He is happier now than he was with Mom, and shows no remorse.
He got rid of her things five months clothes and jewelery.
You wonder if he’s still that same person who belittles and mocks me. Yes, behind closed doors, he drinks a lot.
However, since Oliver started staying with us, two months exactly, he has stopped coming to the basement. She’s light in complexion, slender, with blue eyes and blonde hair. She looks young enough to be his daughter.
The Johnsons are nice. It turns out they had two girls our age, Claire and Clara, both beautiful. Claire has an overpowering personality. I met Claire twice, and today will be the third time.
I think she’s here more for Kyle. Clara, well, she’s quiet. The type whose words weigh heavy with truth.
Today will be the second time I see her; the first was when they moved in. Claire was super nice to Dad and sneered at me. Clara faintly smiled at my dad and looked at him as if she saw right through him.
Clara glanced at me, and I could see kindness in her. A warm, beautiful-hearted girl. Clara speaks truth; that’s correct. Upon meeting her, my dad shook Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s hands. Claire had a fake smile and shook his hand, but Clara looked at his hand, crossed her arms, glanced at me, and said, “I’m fine, thanks. I don’t shake hands.”
“Clara, drop that attitude at once,” her mom said, while her dad made excuses for her attitude. Clara smiled and winked at me as they were about to leave. I will never forget that perfect smile and how she looked at me with sincerity. Seeing her gave me a purpose to live another day.
I’ve seen her through my window since her room is right opposite mine. She glanced at me here and there until three months ago when I saw a guy in her room.
He looked like her boyfriend. I checked her profile; her relationship status was still single, but they looked quite cozy. I thought maybe she hadn’t updated her status until I saw she had updated her status to attending the party tomorrow.
The Johnson family is well off: a high-end lawyer and a surgeon. Mrs. Johnson has her own practice, and Mr. Johnson has a law firm.
The girls got everything they wanted. We were pretty much average until my mom passed away. My dad is now richer than our neighbors, though the Johnsons never looked down on anyone. They were humble.
I’m wearing my blue jeans and a t-shirt with the Simpsons that my dad bought me. Clara and Claire just arrived at our birthday party. They both have gifts, probably for my brother Kyle since I’m a nobody. I stood at the oak tree alone, pretending to be busy with my phone, scrolling through my three contacts.
“Hey, James,” Clara called out. I looked up. She has her black hair braided with blue butterfly clips holding the braids perfectly intact. She’s holding a blue box the size of a shoebox in her hand, with a broad smile and perfect white teeth. Her sparkling blue eyes met mine. She’s wearing a Simpsons top with blue jeans.
“Did she watch me get dressed?” I wondered. Clara came closer, her rose scent filling the air. She gave me a gentle hug. Does she know I’m an awkward mute? I glanced at her. She stared at me for a moment, locking eyes, then said, “I got you something. I hope you like it.” Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson came up to me.
“Hey, happy birthday, young fella. Your journey is only now starting,” said Mr. Johnson. He looked like he was in his mid-forties, not an ounce of gray hair. He looked good for his age. Mrs. Johnson looked a lot like Claire. She gave me a hug.
“Now you kids must behave. I know you’ve been through a lot after losing your mom, but we are here for you, okay?”
She looked me in my eyes. She was a true caring mom figure. I liked the Johnsons. “Nice to have you guys over. Hey, son, you are getting spoiled today,” my dad said with a fake laugh, his mistress by his side.
“Mr. George, how have you been? It must have been hard on your family,” said Mrs. Johnson. Mr. Johnson shook my dad’s hand and patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s good seeing you, mate,”
“We’ve been okay, thank you for asking,” my dad responded, then glanced at Oliver. “I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced you to my fiancée, Oliver.”
“Fiancée? Mom just died last year,” I thought. Then I saw the big diamond ring on her finger.
“Hi Oliver, lovely meeting you, honey,” Mrs. Johnson said, giving Oliver a gentle hug. “Anyway, Mom, Dad, me, and James will be over there.” Clara pointed to the side of the house where there was a brown wooden table and chairs. She then took my hand. “That was awkward,” she muttered. “Your dad and his young mistress, I mean, your mom just passed away! Has he no shame?”
We sat down at the table. “So, open your gift.” I glanced up at her. “Go on, open your gift,” she repeated. I tore off the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a smartwatch, one that pairs with your phone, a black ring that shows your mood, a book, and a pen.
My eyes widened. “Is this for me?” I thought to myself. I’ve never received such a gift in my life. “Lift up the book, James,” she grinned, staring at me. I lifted the book, and beneath it was a set of keys. I frowned.
“Come with me,” she smiled, taking my hand and leading me outside the gate. “This here is yours.” My eyes widened even more. I’d only met her twice, and she got me all this. It was a BMW 335i in diamond black. I was speechless. Just then, Kyle, Dad, and the others came outside. Everyone’s eyes widened as Clara dismissed their gazes. “This is yours,” she said grinning holding my hand.
My dad’s face went pale. “Clara, don’t you think this is too much?”
Clara folded her arms. “He’s eighteen. He can decide if he wants to keep it. And no, Mr. George, he deserves much more.”
“Yes, Clara, you’re right, honey,” said her mom. “But you should have discussed it with us and his dad. Where did you get the money to buy this anyway, honey?”
“Mom, I saved up. You’re right, I should have discussed it with you, but you have no idea what I’ve seen his dad doing to him. When I tried telling you, all you said was to mind our own business.”
Everyone’s heads turned to Mr. George as he spat out, “This is absurd. Such accusations can land you in serious trouble.”
Clara walked up to my dad, looked him right in the eyes, and said, “Try me. Technology is made to record acts of randomness, kindness, and evil.” She faintly smiled. Clara then took my hand. “Anyway, we should be celebrating.” I have never seen my dad this scared, but this was definitely a battle far from over.
