Who I Truly Loved
A/N: This chapter acts more of a... link (?) to connect the events so don’t worry about more boring drama, its been toned down.
The dolphins carried us to the shore, and when we reached there, our ride was already positioned where it should have been. The Cunningham was a superyacht, with all the facilities we could ever need (and maybe much more) already in place, waiting to be used by tired teenagers.
At least, that’s how it looked to me.
After me and Ella had a bath, a massage and a sauna, we raided the snack bar of the yacht, where it wasn’t just peanuts. Oh no, they had freaking pizzas in there. Along with a huge variety of drinks, that we devoured. I think by that point of time, everyone was so pumped up that they could fight a war.
That brings me back to my current position on the deck, acting like a totally cliché damsel in distress.
Standing (actually, sitting) on the deck of The Cunningham, I realized I had grown closer to the worst crowd in my school. I should have been revolted, instead I was uplifted. When we were leaving the palace, I was jovial; they were satisfied. Alex and I hadn’t made up, I mean, my waist still had a huge bruise on it, but I was sitting on a wheelchair created by Alex, so.....
(I didn’t need it, just watching him use his energy on making a wheelchair was enough of an apology for me.)
He was exhausted by the war, as I liked to call it, and by making that wheelchair he actually tired himself so bad that by the time we were docking The Cunningham, he was already unconscious. Candace was in-charge of hauling his ungrateful ass up and down the ship as required. Jasper and Ella (Mr. Jealousy had seemed to take up a space in my heart) were on the other side of the ship, hopefully fighting. But then I heard laughter from that side in particular, and I smiled to myself. I remembered a quote I read somewhere-
If I can’t find true love, love isn’t true.
But as fate would have it, I was reminded of my true loves when I heard my phone notification bell ring.
105 messages received from 1 chat- @The Happy Rejects <3
@GoodnessGRACEous7: Where is our Myra Hindley?
@SomeStupidSucker: Probably dead by now, by staring at Jasper’s hot body.
OH MY GOD, my BFFS! It had been roughly 13 hours since I had left, and- woah.
I go to our group chat and-
MrsDylanOBrien: actually no offense, but i’m on the mission not your sorry asses. in fact me I’m in a wheelchair at the current moment gurlz
GoodnessGRACEous7: Can you enlighten us on your progress or is there no convalescence as of now?
Thank God, I was a bookworm and I knew the meaning of the archaic English she wrote. All the bookworms here, raise your hands!
MrsDylanOBrien: well I’m in a wheelchair bcoz f.a.r.t. hit me with a metal rod and ella is currently wid my boi and Candace the sane is wid f.a.r.t. at the moment.
I sigh. My descriptions were so depressing that I felt like throwing my phone away. The minute I resumed looking at the scenery (that was beeeyouuuteeful) this happened-
19 messages received from 4 chats-
(I wondered why they all were texting me from the personal chat)
@SomeStupidSucker: Give ella hell from my side gurl bash her head if you wanna or why don’t ya drown her? and as for f.a.r.t. he couldn’t hv gotten away wid it, how many bones of his did ya break?
@Alberta.Einstenia: I told you not to get involved in this love business, Terry. It ruins the equation.
@GoodnessGRACEous7: Jasper is not a worthy stalwart, mademoiselle! If I should put it in simple words- to hell with him Teresa!
That’s the first time she spoke 5 words that were relatively normal! She had to be damn serious for that. Sighing (again) I switched off my phone, and I thought about The Cunningham , our destination (India) and of course, I thought about the fact that I needed company desparately(with my FAVOURITE song in the whole wide universe- Broken Clocks by SZA playing in the background).
That’s when Candace came up to me. “Hey.”
“You know, Alex is so damn sorry. He doesn’t have the guts to apologize, or else he would’ve done it thrice by now. Even when unconscious, he was muttering, ‘I need to apologize.’”
“He’s probably talking about apologizing to his mother for being such a disappointment.”
Candace doesn’t laugh. On the contrary, she huffs and then walks away. I sigh. So much for good humor and good company. Sighing (OMG) I turned and walked to my personal bedroom trying to prepare myself for the nightmares I’ll have to go through tonight.
The minute I turn to go back to my personal safe haven, Carla materializes in front of me, just like that. Like BAM! One minute you are staring at sleek glass walls and metal railings, and in the next, a wrinkled (but beautiful, no doubt) old lady’s face fills your vision and she goes, “Good evening, Your Highness.”
“Uh....Yeah...Good Evening, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? Madam haven’t I told you, the respect is all yours and the pleasure is all ours!”
“To some more than others.” I mutter under my breath, but Carla catches it with her withered ears. Anyways, I remember, she can read minds, so there is no need to hide anything.
As if on cue, she says, “Exactly. But something is troubling you ma’am?”
Read my mind why don’t you?
“Fine, if you say- think so.”
I sigh, and I begin thinking of all the troubles all over again.
Powers are given to the worthy, but I am not! I’m selfish, greedy and to some level, a little preposterous! I have fun murdering people! All that ever happened to me was too much solitude and a few murder attempts! Other than that, everyone wants to help me but I never let them, when all I should do is to agree and them heal me piece by piece- BUT NO! I never take the correct path, I never listen, I never improve! I’m the same person I was 10 years ago, in the cupboard, with the desire to kill inside me- RIGHT THERE! I don’t change, I don’t grow!
“Teresa, listen to me. I address you by your name, not your title, because this is who you are, and this responsibility, it can be overpowering sometimes, but don’t let it catch up with the real you. I speak to you as not a guardian or a messenger, but rather, as a concerned person. Powers are always given to the worthy, and you are. You aren’t the girl who almost murdered someone. You are the girl who didn’t murder someone who rightfully deserved to be finished off with. That sense of integrity, is your power, Teresa.”
I was speechless and ecstatic. And grateful. So damn grateful, because I never thought of it the other way. Years of thought only showed me that I was horrible, but minutes of speech had just shown me that I could be much more than that.
That night, I go to sleep with a lightheartedness and relief, content of being in my skin and being me.
When I wake up, its not birds chirping or church bells ringing that wakes me up. Its the horrendous smell of fish. And the cries of fishermen. And the HORRIBLE singing of Candace (that too “Friday” by Rebecca Black).
Trying very hard, not to sigh at this dull start of my day, I get up and get ready for greeting India.