Runaway Life With Rock Stars

Chapter Six

There was enough time for everything I had to do in my mission, and I didn’t have to sell the white packets for needed money. I've decided to save them still for some emergency. Who knows when that will be? So as to be safe, I might have to keep it hidden from everyone at the moment.

Though, I have to admit, people kept starring at me like a owls, for my unspeakable appearance. What do I care, anyways? It's not like I’ll see them anytime soon. However, I still wonder what they’d have whispered between each others' private conversation. If I’d have gone without my destroyed pants. A very interesting scene it would have been, don’t you think? I asked my Daemon.
Yes, I know, he answered in truth.

“Whoa!” Charles, stepping out of his shower hour, exclaimed at the different view of the bus while he patted his hair dry. “What happened here?”

“Hey, it's just clean. Ever seen the word physically done?” I said teasingly, stirring at a pot of mashed potatoes, anticipated for everyone to eat it! “You take a long ass time in the shower, Charles . What if the guys came and wanted to take a shower but cannot and then are late because of you and leave all smelly?” I told him.

“I doubt it for today. Anyways, the water was delicious to shower in,” he said, sitting at the clean table filled with a grocery paper bag. Oops. I forgot to get rid of that. With excellent fixation, he overlooked it, for he was preoccupied by the neatness of the means of transportation. It wasn’t that filthy as you could imagine; there were just things out of place and spills here or there, nothing big, really. Things were organized now. “Wow, you did this?” he asked, but already knowing the answer. This just made me sick of his admiration , it sounded fake and really weird for the most part. To me anyways.

“No,” I said sarcastically. “It was the security guards outside." He looked confused.

"Of course it was I! Who else?” I blurted out almost in a shout, retrieving the paper bag to fast it caught his eyes. Damn.

“Well I have to tip you for cleaning the bus, then,” he went on. It was annoying me for no apparent reason, and it made me mad with myself. “How did you do this so fast anyways?” he asked. Again, irritation rose for I have never been admired by some simple thing I’ve ever done in my useless life, so I didn’t know how to react except be irritated by the comments I’ve never heard of and would never get use to. I thought, I was useless enough to never deserve attention no matter how much I did, and I'll always reject it because there is no use to it for my self-esteem anymore.

I said, "Think back to when I said that I lived with the—," I paused because the disgusting flashback death of Mr. Samuel haunted me at the couples' name, "—Samuel,” I choked out, swallowing stiffly. “Remember that I was treated like a slave, always cleaning their house? Well, that’s where it grew into habit. Can’t help it, sorry.” I shrugged, throwing the bag into the compost bucket under the sink and examined the pots contents; they were ready. If you really want to know, the cleaning sessions in my life were brutal, Charles, if I didn’t do it quick and well. I would end up at times with bruised limbs and fresh minor wounds, I told him in my mind, biting my lips and gripping the spoon hard.

“Well I got to tell you that I’m impressed.” He continued. Please stop, it's not that special. “It saved me from having to tell the boys to start looking after themselves or having end up myself do it. Thanks, Jaddus.” He winked an eye at me. Hm…I have no idea what that was for. I’ll have to ask that question some day.
“What’s that you’re cooking?” he sniffed the atmosphere.

I said, hoping he wouldn’t ask about the paper bag or where the groceries came from, "Mashed potatoes and gravy with white rice and some steamed veggies." Please don’t say anything else, please, please, ple—

“Nice, I love steamed veggies with white rice, such a nice combination.” He smiled while my heart dropped in relief. “Where did you get the food? Last time I remember looking for my piece of chocolate donuts in the fridge, it was empty.” He pointed out in suspicion with an eyebrow raised. Dammit!

My eyes swished like the ball in a ping-pong game, side to side, as I figured a way out of this. Ugh! There isn’t a way out! He caught me breaking my promise, but he didn’t know that—unless I told him, which is something I’ll probably end up doing—like right now! “Well, I uh...” I had no idea how begin. “I, uh…. uh…”

“’Uh’ what?” he asked patiently with squinting eyes.

“I sort of went out to get them…” I shrugged, not looking at him directly. I kept my position, just waiting to be stroked at any moment from now. But instead, he stayed calmly in his seat, not even budging to move an inch . What was wrong? Was he paralyzed since he sat there or what! I mean, by now I would be getting beat with a belt or a piece of plank. Hm…something isn’t right. Did he die? Wait, he’s still blinking his eyes and his chest is inhaling and exhaling perfectly normal. I can’t be on familiar terms with what scared me most, Charles not motioning, or the fact that I might get hit. I asked him, cowering backwards, “Aren’t you gonna hit me?” “Why would I do that?” He questioned, puzzled.

I shrugged and said nothing.

He said , “I’m just disappointed that you left after you promised you wouldn’t.”

Without notice, I blurted out, “I had my fingers crossed behind my back when you asked me if I understood!”

He was taken aback. “I thought you were here when I was in the shower! But instead, you were outside!”

Who the hell does he think he is! “Your not my dad!” I chanted harshly almost as soon as he’d finished with his sentence.

Silence took over the long bus, forcing me to realize what I’d done. He looked hurt, and I was ignorant to recognize that in the first place. I took a step forward, a hand outstretch to console him like how Susan would do to me when she’d come to my rescue from Tony The Troll. “Charles, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m such a mean person, I—“

“No, Jad. I’m sorry. I should have controlled my way of being. I know I’m not your father, but if you never had one, then who could tell you what to do?” That had made me feel miserable inside, like if I was some spoiled child off the streets. But I didn’t fight back to it. I have done enough damage with my birth to the world, why bring more? “Forgive me?” he cited with a smile.

“Only if you forgive me first.” I didn’t smile—remember, I don’t smile unless it’s forced or halfway. My mood killed me to even attempt to smile at least half a centimeter of a forced smile. But we forgave and moved on with setting the table for the guys who were coming anytime soon.

Still guilty, after Charles left for a soda, I pushed along the thought of it while I was serving paper plates with the “bus-made” food. I don’t think there was a “homemade” food in my life (whatever that meant anyways), besides the Samuel house, which was rather uncomfortable to tell you the truth but pleasing when I'd eat the by myself in the darkness of the closet; and the orphanage’s “orphan-food” which was somewhat nasty, the same as the food Tony made. They were all displeasing to even give an idea of swallowing down a dehydrated throat. Though, the food the Samuel made was quiet the best food I’ve tasted so far, nothing more. Hm…I think all food must taste displeasing. Especially my cooking for it was my first time using the recipes I’ve fished out by memory of Mr. Samuel. I wasn't sure if my cooking was any good because I didn't have any written directions or a TV cook to give instructions.

Concluding the last of table setting, I went over to the restroom to retrieve my shrunken shirt. I ripped off the tag taped inside the shirt backwards and looked at it once before folding it into my pocket. The tiny picture was safe, yet it was a bit wrinkled at the corners and across, for the creases made hardly any visibility to see the face of that mother. But it was clear to see her pale skin, (the picture was black and white, who knows if she really had skin pigments and it was all the photograph's fault for her paper white skin?), and short dark hair. The shade was perfect as if she were an old actress or something, but the look in her eyes was full of sorrow. Why had she ditched me? Was I the cause of destruction to this world? Ugh! A silent tear slid down my dry cheek in addition to causing the feeling of confused frustration and self-pity flush though. Why am I such a fucking bitch! I must hold all the bad luck in the universe!

The bus door flung open and in came the guys . Damn. Brushing the angry tear away, taking a deep breath to ease in. Standing there like an idiot without making any action, they were like “What the hell happened here?”

Still, my lips were closed tight, saying nothing just letting my breath slip in and out of my corpse.

Feeling a bit calmer, I was able to answer their foolish astonishment. “Uh , your in the wrong bus, Bob," I answered him sarcastically, the turning to Ray, I answered him, “Yeah, the bus is just cleaner then when you guys left.” Facing Mikey, I said to him, “Thanks, Mikey. You’re so kind. I cleaned it just for you.”

He smiled. “Aw. Jad! You are the coolest for cleaning this place! Now I can dirty it again!” Embracing me into a hug, I was as stiff as a log. What was I suppose to do? Was I supposed to stand there? Uh, say something? Was there anything I had to do? My Daemon asked urgently.

The strength of his arms and chest felt so…so alive! I was probably hallow in return to the embrace.

He let go and gave me a look like Huh? Don’t you know how to hug?, but he said, “Jad, its okay. Loosen up a little! You’re so stiff.” He winked at me, making me blush so I turned away as he continued. “Now we don’t have to worry about roaches building their home here with us!”

Gerard was in the background, studying me in some creepy way. I turned away from there and announced. “Well, the food is ready for you, people.”

Bob walked out from the back of the bus, asking where Charles was. Frank slapped his hands to his cheeks, yelling, “Oh my God! Jaddus murdered him! He’s probably dripping with blood allover the restroom! Run everyone! Save yourselves! Ahh!” He started to run around like a headless chicken and landed on the couch faking a cry, “Who the fuck is going to drive us around now!”

To my defense, Ray came to my rescue, ”Oh, shut up, Frank. She’s too innocent to do such a thing! I mean look at her!” They all turned to me. “Doesn’t she look innocent? I doubt she’d do such a thing, don’t you?”

Frank scanned me and said, “Yeah, totally innocent! How do you do that? I want to learn! I mean, after killing that one Samuel dude, how could you get that look? Shouldn’t you be more of those tough looking people?”

“I didn’t kill him!” I said loudly without knowing my voice being so harsh, again. I probably sounded like if I were possessed. Great, Daemon... just great! Now they could suspect more of my darkest secret because of you yelling that like that!

As if nothing happened, I said dully, “Charles went to go get some sodas to drink.”

Frank’s mention was forgotten as quick as a paper cut.

Ray slapped his hands together, saying, “So when are we eating? It smells good; you can’t torture me here by not eating anything!”