'Awkward, Betrayal, I and The One'

by Rachael A Payne

Awkward, Betrayal, I & The One

  Rachael A Payne

  Copyright 2014 by Rachael A Payne.

  Awkward

  His awkwardness had always made him alienated from other people. His genius made them jealous, and his ability to speak his mind made it difficult for people to like him. That's why he had chosen a life of solitude, with only his mentor to keep him company.

  He had never had a family, had been orphaned at a young age and left in the care of the state. But he was far too gifted to stay in a place like that. That's when his mentor had found him and taken him to live with him. In this environment he had learnt to expand his knowledge, he could feed his need to study, keeping himself in isolation.

  He was never able to interact with people properly, and a mainstream career was not for him. Instead, he opted for a life in a top secret government agency where he could fight evil criminals and promote justice. He, of course, used an alias, he couldn’t let people know his real name or where he came from and that suited him.

  But now sitting opposite from her he felt that he had missed out on a part of life that he had long since forgot and thought impossible. Her plain demeanour and gentle smile elicited feelings in him he didn’t really understand.

  She had heard stories about him, and that he was awkward to work with, but she had longed to see him and to work for him. Seeing him for the first time she was surprised, she didn’t expect him to be so young. He must have been about her age and through the scruffy hair and baggy clothes he was oddly quite attractive. She was also quite intelligent and had been put ahead a few years at school, she had graduated from college and went straight into the FBI.

  Her reason for joining the FBI happened when she was nine years old. Her step brother murdered her mother and stepfather. She had to move away, changed her name, did everything to make herself disappear; it was as though she too had died that night along with her parents.

  Her job in the FBI meant going undercover most of the time, she had nothing but her job so she gave it everything she had and did whatever she deemed necessary to get the information she needed.

  But now, looking into his eyes she saw a feeling that was unfamiliar to her. She looked inside herself and became aware that she had this feeling, this urge to reach over to him, to lean out and put her hand to his face, to touch his cheek and press her lips on his. She wondered if he’d ever been kissed before, if he knew what to do if she did kiss him. She stopped herself. She shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about him and besides he would never think of her like that.

  Beautiful, simply put she was beautiful. She had broken their stare but he could not stop looking at her. It was as though he was seeing her for the first time, why hadn’t he seen this of her before? She had just asked him something, but he heard nothing, just saw the movements of her lips, and as he began to ponder about how her lips would feel on his, his rational brain kicked in and he found himself enquiring what she had said.

  The question seemed pointless as she asked it, but she had to break the entrancing silence. Slow was her breathing, her chest rising gradually, pausing, and then exhaling. She gazed at him, her look a mix of awe, wonder, attraction. She was poised waiting for his answer, waiting for him to speak but even though he answered her question with more than a sentence she couldn’t hear a word. She smiled the kind of smile that hid a secret, a good secret, a happy secret. She had seen something in him she never thought possible.

  He was confused for a moment, she had smiled half way through his answer, she wasn’t listening to him. She had asked him a question for no reason; there was no logic behind it, unless... what should he do now?

  Unaware that he had stopped mid-sentence, there was now a silence, not awkward, but not comfortable as they each pondered what they wanted to do and what they should do next.

  Betrayal

  “I have no brother.” She said as she walked away. “I never have.” Words to scar and burn for the hate that raged drove her to it. How could he, that ignorant, misguided messed up idiot. Blood is not thicker than water. It seems all that matters to a person is money, sex and themselves, in that order.

  She had always been different from them, quieter, more intelligent and not willing to end up as them in boring factory jobs struggling to make ends meet or living on benefits. Maybe that’s why they ignored her, why they found it so uncomfortable even to say “How are you?”

  Pathetic, she thought. Now as she drove she gained speed, rage seemed to take over as she automatically drove down familiar streets that held haunting memories she had tried hard to repress. Anger made her drive faster now. Not stopping where she should she continued to roads she barely knew, and when miles had passed, and she recognised nothing, she kept going.

  Thinking all the while of revenge and how she could hurt him and hurt all of them so they could even feel an ounce of the loneliness, desperation and emptiness that plagued her every day of her life, in everything she did. Never trusting anyone, never letting anyone in, losing friends after a year or two and the hate that consumed her every breath was because of them. If they had been there, if they had asked what’s wrong just once in her lifetime maybe things would be different. Instead when she cried she got, “Don’t be so sensitive.” Can’t these people see that this is their doing? She is the way she is because of the way she was raised and her personality growing up was affected by those around her, this is the type of family she lives in, ignorant, narrow-minded, uneducated.

  She had always thought she was adopted or something, she must have been, she is so different from them. Maybe this was her punishment for believing she could do better for herself. Nothing ever went her way, things always went wrong ...her job, her father.

  Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision as she tried to focus on the journey she was taking. Without realising it, and typical, it was raining. She had been so angry she hadn’t noticed yet had managed to turn the windscreen wipers on.

  BEEP!! She hadn’t been paying attention and had cut up a car on the motorway, but she didn’t care. She could have died or killed the person in that car, but it was as though she wasn’t there, she had gone to another place in her mind that allowed her to cope with such a disloyalty.

  Let the world burn and everyone in it, she didn’t care. What good is this world when those that are supposed to love you let you down or make you feel unwanted?

  Driving through the night she had no idea where she was, she thought about going to certain places but when it came down to it all she could do was keep on going as though if she stopped she would cease to exist. She did briefly wonder if they would think of her but then told herself that they couldn’t care so neither would she, which seemed to give her satisfaction. Why should she care? Why should she waste even one more millisecond thinking of them after everything they made her feel? It seemed the further away she got the better she felt.

  When it got to sunrise, she found herself driving a winding road that led to a cliff and before she knew it she had left her car and began walking towards the edge of the cliff. The wind blew hard against her face, and the crashes of the waves below made her feel alive, something she had not felt in a very long time. When the wind washed through her hair, it was as though it was trying to whisper something to her but she couldn’t quite hear it, if only she listened, if only they listened.

  Tears flowed again as though they were the waves of the sea themselves and as she considered her self conclusion she thought, “is this it?”

  I

  I'm waiting. I've been waiting here for ages.

  Why don’t they come and get me? What are they doing in there? What is it that is so much mor
e important than me?

  I should be the most important one, me. I’ve been here for so long.

  And clearly I'm more in need of their services than whoever it is that is with them now. Look at me. I look a mess, my hands are shaking, and my leg’s going crazy over here. I mean, come on. LOOK AT ME.

  I've been like this for days. I don’t know what it is, no one knows what it is. What is it?

  It’s a nice shade of baby blue this room they’ve got me in. Nice, calm. The dusky green of the lino floor has those little sparkly bits in it. Nice. It’s all so nice. The chair could be a little comfier but then I'm not supposed to be sitting on it for this long. I should move, my backside is getting numb.

  That’s it, one up, then the other, straighten the coat out over my knees again. Look cool, smooth the sleek hair back and then, relax.

  No one else in this room. Just me.

  Only me.

  Come to think of it there’s only one chair in this room, and I'm sat on it. Only one chair in this box of a room. Plastic, mustard and hard. If I move too much would it scrape on the floor?

  Probably. Then they’ll know that I’ve moved, they’ll think I'm impatient. No, no, it’s best just to sit still. Sit perfectly still and wait. Wait for them to come and get me.

  Now the boredom sets in. What