To The Place I Belong

SYLVIA

The sky seems so blue that it floods my eyes whenever I look up. The clouds do somewhat look like the unfurling waves the ocean holds. I feel so absorbed in it that I had to tear my eyes away from this ocean full of waves in order to locate the place where a fight had just broken out between two teenagers. And immediately my eyes were aching with the brightness of the greenery around the park and my ears tried to fathom the confused shouts and jeers of the spectators of this spectacular fight. It had now caused lurid bright red spots of blood to appear near the pale guy’s nose.

     The other guy was still seated on top of the pale guy and a gang of four people had to come running to bring the two apart. The pale guy was immediately pulled up to his feet by three of his friends, pulling him by his elbows. Before leaving, the pale guy looked at the other guy with a final look of disgust and brushed the area around his nose with his thumb, which was now bleeding, profusely. It made me wince.
      Now the spectators of this spectacular fight had nothing to stare at but the messy-haired guy, previously seated on top of the pale guy, and pass suspicious coherent whispers around. The boy was sweating and his chest rose and fell, still shaking with fury. He looked around visciously, daring anybody to say anything. But none came, and soon I found my interest waning. He had no mark of blood on his body. Yet his friend kept on asking, “...’you fine?”
        “Yeah almost” And then my interest died out and I kept looking about, wanting to trace anything new, unusual and then settled for the chequered pattern of sun rays falling on my feet. Bright day. Or so I felt until a sturdy voice was ringing harsh in my ears. It seemed distant. Really distant. Before it could shake me off my meditation that I was enjoying while staring at my feet.
“Sylvia! Sylvia!”, and then again came another “Sylvia” which finally forced my head to turn my gaze towards the robust woman in dark skin and plump cheeks.

     “Oh Jeez... What the hell are you doin’ here. Didn’t I tell you…” and I found her voice really boring to hold my attention for a few more seconds. I turned my gaze away. To  this she kept bellowing like a mad bull, no sooner picking me up by my elbow and dragging me forcefully out of the park. I found my feet following her with utter laziness- her four steps equivalent to one step of mine. The passers by were giving me and Jane a nice sidelong glance, marvelling with curiosity what had caused such a grown woman to drag a 17 year old girl through the footpath and up to her house and soon, I was in front of the white door again.
“Wait, till I tell your dad…wait…you ruddy little girl…” Her voice trailed off in my mind. I wasn’t hearing anymore and slouched on the couch next to the table in the living room. I looked out of the window opposite to the couch. The sky…seems so blue…
“Its calling,”
“What? What’s calling what? ”
“The sky…”
“Whats the sky calling? Whom is it calling? Wait…What? Oh god…not again…”
“The sky is calling me.  Its so blue today. Reminds me of the beach. Its calling me. I must go…”  I found myself getting up off the couch, walking absent mindedly towards the door and he next thing I could feel was a hand gripping my arms hard, before I could latch open the door. Behind I could hear faint voices “Arthur! Arthur! Where’s the old hag now! Arthur!” but it wasn’t strong enough. It was faint. It was distant.
Dad came rambling down the stairs making large muffled noises. One pull of hand and I was down again on the couch.
“Hey now, Sylvia, here, sit here. Stop it. Okay? Just stop” and he pulled me closer to his chest and I to my amazement, I buried my head into his chest and felt a lump rising in my throat. I cried. I cried. I felt the trickle of hot tears down my cheeks even before I could pull myself together. Through my tear-blurred vision I could see Jane still standing beside dad with a hand against her hip, making a ‘v’. Apparently she was trying to be sturdy, like she has always been. But something in her face was telling me that she was already breaking down.  For the first time I actually started noticing how hard she was trying to retain all of it back, and I squeaked a tiny “Sorry” that got lost somewhere in my incoherent whoops.
“That’s fine, that’s fine” and dad cupped my face in his hands bestowing a kiss on the forehead, he said again, “all is fine, if not now, it will be, soon”
He and Jane, lead me to my room soon enough. I dumped myself on my bed upstairs, and curled into a small ball. Dad left soon after and Jane put a blanket on me, pulling the curtains closer to bar the sun rays from entering my room. I saw her face, an expression somewhere between a smile and an about-to-cry phase and closed my eyes quickly. She hurried downstairs and I could hear angry cries and abuses that were probably addressed to dad. But I wasn’t interested or rather I was drifting too swiftly towards an irresistible sleep.