Prologue

I love you... goodbye.

PROLOGUE: THE FUNERAL

“When life spins out of control, the only way to learn from it is to go back to the start...…”

I watched from a distance as they carried the heavy white-painted coffin and lowered it down the dirty pit. Flowers were thrown on top of it and like the silent waning rays of the sun; the coffin surrenders itself into the abyss as dusk reigns in the sky. I watched as the small group of people disperses like tiny ants as they made their way from the pit. I heard a few cries and some silent murmurs of deep regrets and condolence. The men responsible for the coffin were now shoveling the earth, hiding the coffin of its existence. 

I watched with a numbing heart as all that was left in the graveyard was the deathly reminder of silence - and me. I brushed unshed tears from my eyes, knowing if I look into the mirror they were red and puffy. My hands shook from my side as I absentmindedly kept my balance on one of the tree's high branches. I felt for the round locket that delicately nestled on my chest, still containing the warmth of its previous owner.  And then like rain, I felt tears suddenly fall from my eyes as I let them blur reality for just a moment. Heavenward I stared at the sky like a child reaching. Praying. Hoping. Wanting to scream it all.

"WHY! WHY HER?!" I asked with a scornful voice at the sky. 

WHAT RIGHT DID THEY FREAKING HELL HAVE TO TAKE HER FROM ME?!

 My own mother. Dead. Gone. Forever.

 "WHY, D****T! ANSWER ME,WHY?!" I slumped at the tree's trunk, not tearing my gaze from the sky.  "She didn't do anything wrong. She didn't do anything wrong. “I repeated again and again in incoherent sobs.  

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and noticed the blood coming from the abrasions on my hands. It freaking hurt! The pain in my chest. I held the locket, my mom's locket and opened it. I stared at her face smiling like a child with a hidden mischief in her hands while that mischief was me. Trying to hide from the camera as if my very soul was depended on it. I smiled painfully at the bittersweet memory. Now I wished I wasn't the stubborn one to refuse making time for pictures. I pictured her just earlier that day before the accident, humming to Queen as she expertly assembled pictures and memorabilia into a scrapbook. Now that scrapbook was still where she had left it to buy more glitters and papers, unfinished and forgotten. 

 "What am I gonna do now, mom? What about our plans? You promised me we were gonna go to the fair this summer. You said you're gonna take me shopping and even though I hate it you would've dragged me into it anyway. And like always, we'll compromise with you dragging me dog-tired on my feet from mall to mall while I bore you with buildings and museums. I even wanted to make it a surprise to you, a scholarship from Die Brucke just like we've always planned. I was gonna study hard while you make it your work to distract me from time to time and tell me to get a life aside from studying. You've always done that. Maybe, even take an enormous amount of pictures of me to the prom while grilling my date and giving him the evil-eye even though you don't need to but had to like any parent who would unconsciously embarrass their kids." I gulped as a clot seemed to stick inside my throat.

 "I was supposed to be valedictorian and then give you my medals like the proud kid I am to have had a mother like you. You were supposed to send me college then gush about how hot the college guys there were then leave me while screaming at me to 'Use protection!" in front of a lot of people like it's the most normal - even though it is a crazy - thing to do. I was gonna graduate with honors and then find a job as fast as I could so that you would be the one to be taken care of for once. You've always been there for me. I wanted to take care of you like you took care of me. Give you the things that you never had because of me. I wanted to change our lives for the better." 

 I trailed off, and gulped another breath. "But now, you're gone. I couldn't even see you anymore. I couldn't feel the warmth of your hugs and the soothing kisses you put on my forehead whenever I'm feeling down or when I go to sleep. You even made me wear a dress today. You know how I hated dresses as much as I hated having attention or being the sappy teary-eyed one. But right now, I don't seem to care. I just want you back, mommy."

 I broke off, knowing I couldn't continue even if I wanted to. I let myself cry for the last few times and as the last drop finally dried I climbed down the tree and made my way back to the cold empty studio I solely owned. 

 

__________________________________________________________

 

 I could still remember the precious times I shared with my mother while growing up. Ever since my dad left us when I was four, mom made it her life to take care for me both as a mother and a father. She would work at diners and business firms nearby just to make ends meet. Then at night, I would hear her silent footsteps as she tries not to wake me while giving me a good night kiss before going to her room and surrender herself to exhaustion. Meanwhile, I've grown used to being independent knowing I couldn't trouble my mom more than she already was - even it meant going through school with bullies and preppy egotistical rich kids hounding at my back for being the waitress's daughter. 

 I started to walk by myself to school when I was four. I had learned to cook and clean when I was five. I then asked my mom to teach me how to do the laundry and soon I was in charge of our tiny bedroom apartment. Every morning, I would cook breakfast for us while she's still sleeping, pack our lunches and go straight to school. Even then, I was a good kid. I studied all of my lessons, got myself into the honor rolls and applied to scholarships. I never had any distraction - except for my mom. She believed that every person deserves a break and for a kid means to play. She would always drag me from my books and toss me into the park and telling me not to go home until three. That memory still puts a smile on my face. Another was whenever we had Parents Day or Family Day. She would move heaven and earth, working overtime or taking unpaid leaves just so that she could be there for me. Even if, rumors started about her. 

 

  It was in my fourth grade. My mom and I decided to finally settle down in New York. She had landed a job as a secretary of the CEO of a famous company known as the Knight Industries. 

 The CEO had ten sons. The two eldest were twins: William and Edward. Then there were David, Silas, Heathcliff, Victor, James and the triplets: Christopher, Cyril and Mathieu. Now, it must be a surprise that I could still remember them. But aside from the fact that I had a good memory, it was because they had each played a hand to make my childhood memory of them the most inescapable nightmare I've ever had.  

Being the scholarship kid into one of Manhattan's most finest and prestigious prep schools, I was the object of social pariah. Of course, with nothing in my mind but to learn, I quickly ignored the taunts they threw my way. I made myself comfortable in the massive library and in the safe confines of the classrooms as the teachers' lectures flow like music to my ears. At recess, when the librarian is out, I would take my usual spot at the old swings just a few distances away from the newer more crowded parts of the playground where the famous Knight Brothers would show off and revel from my schoolmates' praises and hero-worships.  

With an apple for a snack, I read to the classic writings of Charles Dickens, the Brontë sisters, Shakespeare and even Rowling. Sometimes, I was too absorbed into my reading that I would neglect to feel the eyes that silently watched me from afar. It was on one morning as I read the third book of Harry Potter that a series of footsteps were coming near from the squealing crowds from the other side of the playground. I ignored them as I was on the verge of anxiety as Harry and Hermione tried to hide from Lupin's werewolf form. 

"You sure must be smart to read a book without pictures... unlike the other idiots here." 

 I quickly turned at the sharp comment. 

In front of me stood a boy about my age, with thick dark curly hair that framed his angelic face nicely and big square eyeglasses that still couldn't tamper down his piercing baby blue eyes. He was taller than me and fashionably dressed that he made me mistake him for a child model for a moment. But then, he couldn't be a model as I took in his rumpled appearance - well unless it was an ad for a disheveled commercial then maybe. So beautiful - and so dangerous.. 

My mind told me to ignore him but it was as if he wasn't letting himself be ignored. The bell rang and I quickly rushed inside, leaving him with no reply. Two days later, the librarian was gone again and I had no choice but to wait at the swings.

 "Seriously, can't they just scream pathetic? Of course, my brothers just had to be the bigger idiots eating it all up while showing off.” He remarked in an annoyed tone.

Still, I ignored him.  I let him rage on and on about how annoying and kiss-ups our schoolmates were, how his brothers were too blind by the attention, how the teachers breathe down on his neck like dogs waiting for a command and so on and so forth. Days passed and it went on like a normal routine for the two of us: me listening while he rants on.

 It was a month later, and as usual he was waiting for me as I took my seat on the swing. I was reading a Jules Verne classic when out of a sudden I felt the book snatched from my hand. Shocked, I glanced up at the offender.

 "It's rude not to listen when someone's talking to you, you know."

 I frowned. It was the first time someone from school aside from the faculty and staff to ever properly get close to me willingly without any prank behind it - yet. I stared at him with a poker face.

 "Sh*t! Can yooooouuuu taaaallk?" He asked, enunciating each word as slowly as possible. "Dooooo yoooouuuu uuuuundeeerrsttttaand meeee?,

 I frowned again. Why was he talking like that? Did he think I was mute or something?

 "Sh*t! And here I was talking on and on hoping you'll talk to me when obviously you can’t." He ruffled his hair and scowled at something before glancing at me and back again. "Just forget it. I won't bother you anymore. I guess it's just a sh*tty idea." He muttered.

 What was up with this boy and swearing?

 "Why do you keep swearing?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He looked shock for a moment before capturing me with those haunting blue eyes.

"You can talk."

"Of course, I can. Why would you think I can't?"

 "N-nothing. Just forget it."

 Silence passed between us. He broke it by bursting into laughter.

I faced him thoughtfully, wondering if this boy had lost its marbles. He must’ve noticed it somehow and stopped laughing, though a smug smile formed his face, brightening it by a fraction.

 “I made you talk.”

I silently snorted. He made me talk. So what? It wasn’t anything to be happy about. Thought the fact that I talk to others - besides the teachers and the school faculty - was a rarity.

"My name's Mathieu, by the way." He mumbled. 

I stared at the pinkish tint on his face and wondered if he had a fever or something. 

"I'm Alyce." 

"I know!" He happily said. 

I frowned at him in confusion. Something passed between his eyes as he recovered himself from saying something more. 

"I mean I heard about you. The teachers are always talking about you." He shrugged as if he was talking about the weather. 

"Oh." 

"Yup!" He said with another smile and then frowned at himself.

 Was this kid bipolar or what?

 "I heard you're really smart. That's why you're an honor student. I couldn't believe it at first until I saw you reading here every day."

 "I like reading." I shrugged. "Can I have my book back now?"

 He handed it back to me but not before reading the title.

 "Journey To The Center Of the Earth. Cool title."

 "Yup." I said, beginning to ignore him again.

And then, of course, he wouldn’t have it again.

 "My mom likes to read books by a lady called Emily Brontë. That's where my brothers and I got our names."

 "Really?"

 That got my attention.

 He grinned at my astonished expression. “Uh-huh. I saw you reading Pride and Prejudice the other day so I thought you’d be interested. What about you?”

"My mom named me from her favorite book, Alice In Wonderland." I said with a sheepish grin. 

He looked at me with wide eyes.

 "You're pretty when you smile." He said in a daze.

Wha-?

 I saw him turn pink at my silence. What a strange boy.

 "Thanks, I guess."

 "So, uhm, can I call you Alyce?"

 "Su-"

 "Ooh, is it what I think it is? Did Matty find himself a girlfriend?!" A playful voice boomed behind us.

 We both turned to find a blonde-haired green-eyed boy slightly older than us. He had an impish smile on his face as he stared at us.  

"Really?! Well I'll be, never thought you could talk to a girl, Matty!" Another boy joined us. He had brown hair with the same green eyes as the other. "At least, without scaring 'em before they run."

 "Way to go, Matty!" piped in another boy, he had the same blonde hair and green eyes as the first one. A boy looking exactly like him appeared a second later and gave us a quiet nod. 

 "Jules Verne. Quite a hit in his days." A boy unexpectedly emerged in front of me, his eyes glued at the book in my hand. He had blonde hair covering his eyes though I knew he had the same unmistakable green eyes shared by the four other boys and the exact same facial features with second one.

 I jumped in surprise which earned a scowl from Mathieu.

 "Oh please, Heath. You're being your creepy self again. Can't you see you're scaring the poor girl?" A boy with a really light blonde hair commented though you couldn't see it from the smile on his face. He easily dragged the boy named Heath by the collar. Then he proceeded to stop between me and Mathieu. 

"Matty, how many times do I have to tell you to straighten your collars? Egyptian cotton can't iron itself you know!" He whined before arranging Matthieu's collar. He then continued to work on his hair.

 “Stop it.” Mathieu mumbled, swatting the sixth boy’s hands.

 “Now, now, don’t be embarrassed by me in front of your girlfriend. Be embarrassed about your hair! Seriously, it looked like a bird’s nest after a rat infestation!”

 “I’ll show you a rat, alright.” Mathieu replied in a low deadly tone. "Don't touch my hair!" 

The sixth boy didn’t show any signs of hearing him as he tugged on Mathieu’s curly locks.

 Matthieu gave me a helpless look but I just watched him with a slight smile on my face. 

 "Your turn!"

 I was startled when I felt hands move on my hair. They felt gentle - almost like my mother's - as they threaded through my messy locks. I sneaked a peek at the boys around me. They looked to be waiting for something. I closed my eyes, getting lost at the series of tugs on my hair. 

 "And done!" 

 I opened my eyes to find the boys staring at me like I'm an alien or something. I frowned at the attention.

 "What are you guys still doing here? The bell already rang." A new voice arrived from the other side. I turned to find another brown-haired boy. He had a ball tucked in his arm and sweat trickled down his shirt. 

 He stopped and turned as to where the other guys stared at. Me. 

 "Guys, seriously I know I'm that good but I never thought this good." The sixth boy who had styled my hair cut in the silence.

 I made a glance at Mathieu. He looked dumbstruck while the others still stared. The sixth boy just gave me a smug look.

 “Is there something wrong on my face?” I asked.

 The first boy was the first to recover as he put on a dazzling smile in my way.

 “No, in fact, you look”-

 "Ew, what are you doing here, freak?!" A snarky voice shrieked.

 I turned to watch Cat Anderson stride by with her preppy minions following behind her. 

  "Who is she again?"

 "I heard she’s the school’s charity case."

 "She's a teacher's pet."

 "So she's a brownnoser."

 "Wait! What's a brownnoser?"

 Seriously?!

 "Girls." Cat snapped her fingers and the whispers immediately stopped.  She turned to me. "I heard your mom was a waitress and that both of you were living in a shoe box apartment and are friends with the criminals and hobos there. Is that true?"

 I was gonna reply but Mathieu beat me to it.

 “Sod off, Catty!”

 Recognition washed through Cat before she snapped at Mathieu. Then as if by a flip of a coin, she managed a smile. She flitted her gaze to the other boys in front of us and made a sweet gentle cough.

 “Matty, I never knew you and your brothers were into charity.”

 Mathieu grunted and pulled me close to him.

 Cat saw this. Annoyance flashed through her eyes for a moment before sending him another saccharine smile.

 “Of course, knowing weirdo here she just knew where to stick it up to. Right, Ah-lyce?” she hissed at my name. She turned to look at me. “Like mother like daughter.”

 She turned back to Mathieu. “I’d watch out from her if I were you. People like her are only with people like us for one thing. Next thing you know, she’ll leave you guys in a wreck after she got what she wanted.” 

Mathieu made a move towards her only to be pulled back by one of the other boys. 

“Ah, Cat always a pleasure to hear from you.” said the first boy, throwing off what seems to be like charm with an underlying note of sarcasm. “Too bad, us Knight boys are too stubborn for that. Right, guys?”

 Sounds of agreement followed him. Cat’s smile twitched before snapping her fingers again and turned to walk away, her minions following her.

 Is it just me or did something grave just happened? The heaviness in the atmosphere was obvious. Yet, I stood there lost at the exchange. Did Cat insult me? Did the boys here just stood up for me?

 “Poor dense little girl.” tutted the sixth boy.

 “Shut it, James.”

 “Don't shush me Matty. Aren't you forgetting something?”

 Mathieu looked at the boy, James’s, gesture. And then the sound of a light bulb switch came from him. He scowled.

 “Alyce, these are my brothers. David,” the first boy, “Silas,” the second boy, “his twin, Heath” the fifth boy, “James,” the sixth boy, “Victor,” the last boy, “and last but not least my twins, Christopher,” the third boy, “and Cyril,” the fourth boy.

 “And don’t forget, our charming baby brother, Matty!” added Christopher, grabbing Mathieu at the neck.

 “Get off!”

 “No.”

 “You’re choking me, you stupid lard!”

 “Uuuhhh…. No!” 

I giggled at the scene before me.

 “Knowing you, you probably might’ve heard of us though Will and Ed aren’t here.” said David.

 I shook my head. He looked taken aback for a moment before turning to his brothers.

 Mathieu and Christopher were now pulled from each other. Feeling my stare, they stared at me.

 “We,” David he gestured at them, “are the Knight Brothers.”

 

Now, you might’ve thought ‘they weren’t that bad’ or ‘they seemed kinda cool’. But, what happened after was another story.

 It had been a couple of months that had passed. Since then, Mathieu became my regular companion during recess. He started accompanying me there during recess and even in the library. While I would read, he would pass the time whistling with his harmonica. It was a surprise that Miss Cook, the librarian, still lets him inside. I had also finally met his two older brothers; William and Edward who I also found out were twins. And just like Heath and Victor, they were identical. I had wondered why Christopher and Cyril looked to be the same while Mathieu wasn't though I shrugged it off. They also started hanging out with me and Mathieu, much to Mathieu’s irritation. Of course, knowing these brothers, watching them with their crazy antics was amusing - much to Cat’s irritation. Cat always seemed to be jealous of me though I don't know why. I decided not to delve much deeper. 

However, those happy months found their sudden stop one day, more months later. 

It was recess. I was waiting for Mathieu like what he had told me to do. I was reading another Verne’s classic when out of a sudden someone pushed me off the swing. 

My knee got torn from under my skirt and the small stones scratched my hands. My book lied in front of me. I tried to reach it but a shoe stepped on it. 

I glanced up, about to scold the person for dirtying my book only to look in shock. Mathieu stood in front of me with an indescribable look in his eyes. Angry. Furious. Livid.

 I felt my jaw fall in shock as cold sweat washed over me. He never looked at me like that before. In fact, I’ve never seen him look like that before. And I knew why. He was so scary. Scarier than the dark or the thunders in a stormy night.

 “Mathieu?” I felt my voice trembled.

 The pain in my knee broke out and I was trying to flout it. He remained cold and quiet as he crunched his shoe further on my book. 

“Please stop that.” He knew I hated it when my book gets dirty. “It isn’t funny.”

 “Who says it was supposed to?” he asked in a cold hard tone.

 I managed to stand up despite the pain and stared at him.

 “What are you looking at, freak?”

 I frowned at his choice of name. He never once called me that. What happened to him?

 “Is something wrong?” I asked in a calm tone.

 “Just seeing your ugly face couldn’t make anything more wrong. Why are you even here in the first place? You’re nothing but a weak, stupid, ugly, useless piece of trash like your leeching mother!”

 He elbowed me as he stalked away.

 I picked my soiled book, clutched my sore ribs and went inside the classroom, passing my time shedding tears.

 The next morning was worse. One by one the brothers ignored me. Cat sensing the distance between me and the Knights made it her duty to torture me. With her minions, I made it through school being pushed, shoved, elbowed and being the victim of endless pranks. Before I knew it, my shoes had tacks in them; my desk was on the front lawn, my bag was torn and my books thrown in the mud. I had been drenched with mop water, glued to my chair, had ‘kick-me’ and other demeaning papers stuck on my back.

 But the only thing that hurt me the most was when the people that I had once considered as friends were behind the pranks. Mathieu made it his mission to bring me to my tears. I saw him write ‘sl*t’ on my locker while the others watched with amusement. It was then I’ve never felt more alone than to have myself opened and then squashed.

 The worst that had come to far was when they planted a firecracker in my locker. It exploded the entire block. And like loyal subjects, my schoolmates pointed the blame at me. The incident made the school board revoke my scholarship. My mom came to pick me up and all the while I heard them celebrating my departure.

 I never heard from them since then. I tried to start again in a local public school. It was later that I’ve heard my mom was fired from her job because she was sleeping with her boss. My mom tried to hide it but I knew she was being strong. I knew all of those rumors were a lie. And together, we stayed strong.

 I stayed strong. And always will be.

 With or without her.

 I repeated that again and again before I fell asleep.