Rating : T
Pairing : Still Marki
Summary : When a boy not as lucky as the other, he's trying to regain his happiness, of course with his beloved family and friend helps.
Warning : Emotionaly wrecked
London, St.
Paul-Boys School, 1910
Part 1 – My
Room Mate
He
was my new room-mate. A freshman. We were at the same year, but this was his
first school ever. His parents sent him a tutor at home, until they decided to
send him to a formal school. So I was sure, it must be so dreading for him
being in a new school. On this big and strange school and you had to live here
at least for four years. Well, here we were, at St. Paul Boys Boarding School.
First
time I saw him, my first impression on him was only that he was clumsy, quiet,
and shy. And he was small for 15 yrs, slender with brown hair, and the most
incredible blue eyes, even his face with little scars. I remembered how his
parents Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan looked so worried and hard to leave him here. I
guess he was just mommy’s boy, a spoil rich boy, even the boy rarely talk, and
seemed not responding with the attention. He just stayed calm.
“Hi, I’m
Mark,” I greeted him, as soon as his parents left, and held out my hand.
He smiled and shook my hand, “I’m Kian.”
I stunned as I touched his hand. His palm was so
rough. I looked it, and he noticed. Then he paled, and pulled his hand back,
“My
chores. I’m working hard,” he explained.
“O,
cool.” ‘Working hard for the chores?
Wasn’t he rich? Does he still doing his chores so hard till leaving scars on
his hands? What a good rich lad.’
Well, maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was not a spoil rich boy, it was just
how their parents loving him too much. Well, every parent does when they leaved
their son here. My parents did. So I think it was normal.
I looked at him, and he got discomfort.
“Uhmm, Kian,
what a strange name,” I changed the subject.
“Yes,
I’m from Ireland. Kian is an ancient name.”
“No
wonder,” I smiled
He smiled back. It was a cheeky smile, but cute. I
remembered how his mother was so worried about him before they left.
“Seems your mother so worried about you.”
“Yes,
she does,” that’s all he said.
I sighed for no more subjects. “Alright, I’m your
room mate, Kian, anything you need help, my pleasure to help you.”
“Thank
you.”
“No problem,”
I shrugged, with my heart pounding as I knew I got a roomy, after I’ve been
alone for a year. It’s gonna be great year. I hoped we could be a friend. I
think he’s good lad.
But first incident came.
It was his first night. I knew, he had been uncomfortable
just before we slept. I let the light off. I used to sleep in the dark. And he
was restless then finally he woke me up in the middle of the night.
“Yes,
Kian?”
“Can I have
the light? I can’t sleep on the dark,” he said with his little voice.
I didn’t know what to say. Well, this is my single
room for a year and there’s no-one ever told me to switch on the light. But
when I saw that little scared eyes, I couldn’t say no. So I said,
“Of
course,” and switched the light on.
“I’m
sorry,” he looked so scared.
“It’s alright,
Kian, I could sleep in both lights,” I gave him a smile.
“Thank
you.”
I nodded, “Now, go back to sleep.”
He just nodded and tried to go back to sleep.
As I watched him laid down, I tried to go back to
sleep either. But I lied. I couldn’t sleep in the bright light. I need the dark.
So when I saw him had back to sleep, a deep sleep, I turned off the light back,
then back to sleep.
But then something happened.
It wasn’t a long sleep, when I heard a noise. He
was tossing in his bed, and moaning. Quickly I switched the light on, and
rushed to him,
“Hey,
Kian…it’s alright…, wake up, I had switched it back,” and tried to calm him.
But he kept tossing and moaning.
“Kian,
wake up!!” I shouted him and he finally wake up with sweating.
“It’s alright,
Kian, I had switched it on. I’m sorry.”
He tried to breath and looked the light. And he
could breathe easily, calming himself.
I felt so sorry and cursed myself, “I’m sorry,
Kian. I didn’t know that you would so scared like that.”
“It’s
alright,” with still paled face. “I’m sorry, I have waking you up.”
I just smiled.
I looked at him carefully, “It must be a trauma
for you?”
“Yes.”
“Want to tell?”
He looked at me at first, then shook his head, “No.”
“Oh,
alright, I won’t push you. It’s your call.”
“Thank
you,” his voice even smaller.
I still looked at him. “Now try to go back to
sleep. I’ll let the light on. I won’t turn it off.”
“Thank
you.”
I just smile and watched him laid back, tried to
sleep again. I watched him with a pity emotion. At that moment, I realized
something, that there was something about him. Something he had to hide. I know
it was not only scared to dark, but more. I was sure there was a reason, why
his both parents treated him like a baby, being so worried about him. And I
thought I had to watch him carefully too. I need to know everything about him.
***
It had been two months I
shared room with him, and things still the same. He was rarely talk and really
looked clumsy. And he never liked to shake hand. His hands were full with the
old scars. His palms and his wrist. And I’m sure it was not from the hard
chores. It was from something else, but he never wanted to tell where he got
that, and I daren’t to ask again. It made him very scared of shaking hands. And
he was difficult to make friends. So I was the best thing for him at the moment
beside, his books. I was his roommate, and I think there’s nothing he should
hide from me.
I knew he has a brother here;
he was a year above us. His name was Shane Sullivan, and he was as worried as
their parents. Everyday he was always come to our room, for checking up his
little brother. Make sure he was alright. I think he got a lot of attention
from his family. That something he had to be protected from something, which I
didn’t know what that, was.
“I think
your brother is too much worried about you,” I said as his brother just left
from daily check.
He shrugged, “I know.”
“Well, isn’t
that annoying you, being checked everyday?”
He smiled, “It’s alright, they just love me. I
need that.”
“Hey,
they are your family; they should love you, right?”
But I think there was something wrong with my
word, as he suddenly looked quiet and uncomforted.
“Hey,
what’s wrong?”
He sighed, “No, nothing’s wrong,” he gave a meekly
smile. The smile that made him looked so cute. Then he’s back to write
something.
I wasn’t dare to ask again, and left him a silent
world. The questions were over my head. What’s wrong with him? Why he was so
mysterious?
***
Six months passed, Kian
was still a mystery for me. He was so introvert. He never talked about his
family, while I always talked about mine; my family and my two beloved brothers,
Barry and Colin. He was really hiding something that he didn’t want everybody
knows about his family. But one thing I admired of him was how he was good in
class. He took very well in every lesson, and always did his homework, which was
something I hate about. There was no wonder, books had been his friends. And he
loved to write. He wrote his journal everyday. I loved too but not as crazy as
him, even I would like to be a journalist someday. He was a good lad, a smart
good lad. Too good I think.
In his small world, the
only moment he would look happy was when he was receiving a letter from
someone, someone named Nicky Fiennes. I always watched him from my bed when he
read those letters. There were always big grins in that little face, then
smiling. I liked when he did that. He looked so cheered up, better than his sad
and clumsy face. And he would reply it right away. To Nicky in Ireland. ‘Who is Nicky? Why he could make Kian this
happy?’ He never told who he was,
TBC
Some reviw would make my day .... hehehehhehe
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