Hymn of Ame (COMPLETED)

[02] The Smile Has Left His Eyes

CHAPTER TWO

PENELOPE

TUESDAY CAME. There was no improvement in the weather. If anything, it became worse than I had imagined. I thought I would wake to a bright sun or at least to just a drizzle, but instead there was intense drumming on the roof. I remembered back when I was still young and whenever it was raining, I would put a pair of cotton balls in my ears. It would help muffle the sound. Then I would be holed up in my room until the last raindrop fell, dodging the bullets of past.

I padded across the room to the couch, where my mother sat. She used to wear a duster dress with abstract print, so outdated as to be laughable now, but today she wore a thick jacket and pants. She always claimed she had a lot of heat in her, that was why she never got cold easily. To see her trying to cover every strip of her skin with thick clothes looked so alien to me.

The floor was so cold it hurt. The socks weren't helping at all; it was moist from the weather. The slippers felt too thin, but in reality it was not. It was the thickest a slipper could get. Just . . . The cold was just that much.

"Where's Dad?" I asked my mother. I settled just a few inches beside her. I almost sprung back up because the weather made the sofa appear like it was fresh out of the fridge.

My mother and I were close but not to the point I could casually hug her. She would often crack jokes, but it was my lack of humour that would eventually shut her up.

"In the bedroom," she said a bit breathlessly. "He's not feeling too well."

A simple nod was my only response. I could tell that much. The lights weren't on and the house was cloaked up in darkness. My father wanted it dim when he didn't feel that good. Just like I had said, he almost spent his childhood at the hospital, owing to the fact he was very sickly. It was bright at the hospital, and he didn't want to be reminded of that whenever he felt under the weather.

The light from the television was to thank for some visibility it offered to us. It casted a soft glow at the things within its reach. A few images fluttered away on the screen before I finally set my full attention to it. A middle-aged man whose safari hat looked off-themed, stood before us, gliding his hand over a huge image of the country's archipelagic scheme. He was explaining how the rain came out of nowhere. Also, it seemed that they didn't know when the rain would stop.

I beelined for my parent's room. I knocked, one, two, and three. When no one answered, I swung the door open, sticking my head in. There was a mountain of blankets on the bed. It moved. Continuously. And softly. Like it was breathing. I realized it was my father. Just right under the headboard, a mop of hair could be seen. It stirred. And I decided right then that it was not probably the best time for a visit. My father was very kind, but he could be irritable when he was sick. Besides, he needed the rest. I pulled the door towards me slowly.

I fixed myself ready for school. Lower grades probably had no classes today. But we were college students. Even a storm wasn't enough to convince the higher-ups for a suspension, unless the storm was that strong. It was still premature to leave, so I bent at my waist and pulled a basket under my bed. Inside a black ball of fur sat lazily. The sensation when I slid his shelter against the floor must have been so uncomfortable, because the next moment, a pair of emerald eyes regarded me so coldly. If it weren't for the weather, he must have hissed at me by now. But he knew better than to act hostile to me. He needed my body heat after all.

He arched his body, then meowed softly at me as if asking for forgiveness, then leapt on me. He curled instantly in my arms, burying his cute pink nose in his own stomach. His warmth spread around me, and his purring vibrated against me. I didn't see him last night; he must have spent the night away in my parent's room, and eventually got shooed outside this morning because my father wasn't fond of him that much. I chuckled at him, and he moved his front paws to cover his face as though he was deeply humiliated.