NADIA
I stood at the edge of the school's rooftop, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy as I gazed out at the sprawling landscape below. How I'd ended up here, I couldn't quite recall.
But if you're wondering if I'm going to put an end to my life, I won't. It's too early to make my enemies happy.
I just needed a refuge, a place to process my emotions and gather my thoughts.
My feet seemed to have carried me here of their own accord, driven by a desperate need to escape. I found myself drawn to this isolated perch, where the only sounds were the distant hum of the city and the creaking of the rooftop beneath my feet.
Or perhaps it was more accurate to say I was fleeing – from the suffocating weight of my secrets, from the crushing pain that threatened to consume me whole.
I wasn't thinking clearly, my mind clouded by the events of the past few days. The argument with Elijah, the hurtful words he'd spoken in the corridor, and the unsettling scene where he'd beaten up that man – it all replayed in my head like a broken record.
My father's health weighed heavily on my mind. The uncertainty surrounding his condition, the secrets my mom kept hidden – it all felt suffocating. And then there was this double life, this mafia world I'd unwittingly stumbled into. It was all so overwhelming.
Just as I was lost in my thoughts, I heard footsteps behind me. Elijah appeared, his eyes scanning the rooftop until they landed on me. I was sitting on the edge, my feet dangling in the air.
Elijah rushed toward me, his voice low and urgent. "Nadia, don't do anything crazy. Please, just stay there."
I chuckled, a mix of sadness and amusement. "Oh, suddenly now you care?" I asked, my tone laced with sarcasm.
Elijah's expression turned serious. "I'm not joking, Nadia. Don't jump. Don't do anything. I'm here."
I relaxed, reassured by his concern. "Relax, Elijah. I'm not going to do anything crazy. I just came here to think."
Elijah sat down beside me, his presence comforting. "This is not about yesterday," I reassured him. "But rather about my dad. His not doing well," I said and there was something about saying it out loud that physically hurt. Tears began forming but like always I blinked them away. "He-" I inhaled, thinking about my next words. I couldn't tell him the full truth. I couldn't tell anyone according to my mom.
"He was mugged on his way home. He- he wanted to get something for me and th-they shot him," my voice cracked at the end because it was the only part where I didn't lie.
"Now his in a coma and- the doctor isn't sure. I don't think his going to make it Eli," I said and he wrapped his arm around me in a warm embrace and even then, I couldn't let myself cry.
Despite that, for the first time in a matter of hours, I felt safe. I felt like I could trust Elijah. And in that moment, I knew I needed him. Despite everything that transpired.
Elijah's hold on me tightened, his voice filled with conviction. "I'm going to be here for you, Nadia. Whenever you need me, I'll be here. No matter what we're going through, you can always call me."
I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked up at him. His eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, met mine. In that moment, I believed him. I believed that he would be there for me, that he would catch me if I fell.
"Thank you, Elijah," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He smiled softly, his fingers gently stroking my hair. "You don't have to thank me, Nadia. I'm just here for you."
"Also, forgive me. Everything I said was a lie. I regret it. It was never my intention it's just that it was the only-"
"Shh, it's okay. I said some stuff that were horrible too,"
"I don't care. I just want you to know how sorry I am for hurting you,"
"Me too,"
□□□
A few days passed, and before I knew it, my birthday arrived. I'd asked my family, as well as Vicky and Blue, to keep things low-key, and luckily for me, they respected my wishes.
I began getting ready for the day, resigned to the fact that it was a school day, and exams were looming. A refreshing cold shower helped me wake up, and 15 minutes later, I was out and getting dressed.
I chose a yellow dress my mom had bought me during her trip. The fitted waist and flowing skirt, which fell just above my knee, made me feel a bit better about this day. I made sure to book a salon appointment to get my braids redone cause they had certainly served its time. This time, I decided to wear them down, pairing them with comfortable heels and grabbing my bag.
As I exited my room, Zeke and my mom greeted me with a cheerful "Happy Birthday" song. I chuckled, feeling a mixture of emotions: ones of sadness and delight at the same time.
My mom presented me with a stunning heart-shaped cake, adorned with purple and white frosting and the words "Welcome to Adulthood." I raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Seriously, Ma?"
My mom beamed with pride. "You're so grown, sweetheart. Just yesterday, you were a little girl." I playfully rolled my eyes, blew out the candles, and hugged her.
Zeke, being his usual pesky self, pulled my hair, earning a stern "Zeke!" from me. He chuckled, hugging me tightly. "How does 18 feel?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Am I supposed to feel any different?" I asked, smiling wryly. It was a question I'd grown tired of hearing.
"Wait, I have something," I said, remembering the photo album I had intended to give my parents when they arrived yesterday.
I hurried into my room, rummaging through my closet until I found the album. Returning to my mom, I said, "I wanted to give this to you and Dad. Elijah and I... well, mostly him, actually picked it out. I've been meaning to give it to you, but with everything that's happened, I haven't had the chance."
My mom's face lit up as she took the album. "Honey, it's perfect!" I couldn't help but smile.
"I should really meet this guy," my mom said. "He seems like a good boy."
"He is," I agreed.
Zeke, who still believed Elijah was the one who had hurt me – and mistakenly thought Nicholas was Elijah – chimed in, "You're right, Mom. We should meet him."
My mom asked, "So, when can we meet him?"
I replied, trying to stifle my frustration, "When can I go see my own father?"
My mom, oblivious to the tension, said, "You can go right now, sweetheart. Your present is waiting for you over there."
Just then, Zeke handed me a gift bag. I smiled, "Oh, look at you."
Zeke rolled his eyes. "Shut up and open it."
My mom intervened, "Don't be rude to the birthday girl, Zeke."
Zeke groaned, "Fine... just for today."
I carefully unwrapped the gift Zeke had given me, my heart racing with excitement. As the paper fell away, I gasped in delight. It was a beautiful, antique music box, identical to the one I'd treasured in my childhood until it broke.
Tears of joy pricked at the corners of my eyes. "Zeke, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him.
He chuckled, gently pushing me away. "I'm glad you like it, sis."
With the music box safely tucked away, I made my way to the guest room, now transformed into a makeshift hospital room. My dad lay motionless, surrounded by tubes and machines that beeped and whirred softly.
I approached him slowly, my heart heavy with emotion. Taking a seat beside him, I placed one hand on his and held the photo album.
"Hey, Dad," I whispered, my voice trembling. "It's my 18th birthday, and I got you something." I opened the album, the empty pages a poignant reminder of the memories we still had to make.
"Mom loves it, and I know it's empty right now, but that's why you need to get up. So we can create new memories together and fill these pages." I smiled, envisioning the possibilities.
"You know who helped me with this? Elijah. You don't know him, but he's really special, and I really, really like him. You'd like him too. Maybe one day you guys can meet." The thought brought a smile to my face, and for a moment, the pain and uncertainty receded