Noah- Looking Down

It was during the long summer break. It was a weekend, and my uncle had taken aunt out somewhere, so I was the only one here in the entire house. I got a phone call from Mom. She'd call me every now and then, asking me what I'd been doing, if I'm eating properly or not. I was expecting the same usual conversation as I picked up, but her presence reverberated with an undeniable intensity, as if her heartbeat throbbed on the other side of the line.

"Mom? Can you hear me?" I asked, my voice tightened.

"Yeah, Noah..."

"Mom, what's wrong, did something happen?"

Her words trembled, as if on the verge of breaking. "Noah, your dad... he suffered a heart attack. We've already rushed him to the hospital."

Even though it's hard for anyone to believe, hearing her anguish, a strange mix of emotions stirred within me, finding an unexpected corner of relief nestled in my heart. It was a complex and conflicting sentiment, one that should've filled me with self-loathing. But after all he had put me and mom through... after all the pain he had caused...

"Is that all?" I responded, my voice colder than I intended.

"Noah, did you have your breakfast? How are you doing?" she asked. "Are you fine?"

"Yeah, I'm doing fine."

"Is it hot there in Boston? Here in Camden-"

I replied, curt and distant. "As I said, I'm fine here, so don't worry about me."

"Well, Noah, I was thinking about it for some time. It's already been four months since you left, and we're missing you a lot back home. We would be really glad if you come back once in a while... while the summer breaks still going on."

Her voice wavered, teetering on the edge of hope. So that's why she called me. But there was no way that I could make up my mind to go back home to see him. I couldn't think of myself doing it... of only for that person, my father... he doesn't deserve that. In the end, I snapped, my emotions spilling over.

"What are you saying!?"

"You could meet your dad too. He's really-" she started to plead.

"Like I care?" I cut her off, my anger seeping through. "It doesn't matter to me what happens to that person. It doesn't concern me."

Without another word, I abruptly ended the call. A part of me regretted speaking to her that way, but I couldn't contain the bitterness within me. The truth was, I didn't care about my father's well-being. I had no intention of going the extra mile and returning to Camden just to see him. But to attribute my refusal solely to that would be a mistake. There were other reasons too... deep-seated and intertwined, why I resented the idea of going back home.

Mom's calls persisted, reaching out to me in relentless waves. I chose not to answer, opting instead to end the calls abruptly or bury my phone beneath the pillow. I knew what she wanted to say. Sometimes, her persistence becomes nearly impossible to resist. But I couldn't fathom myself going back home. I simply didn't want it.

As I wasn't picking up her calls, after a week passed, Mom resorted to writing letters. Over the course of the summer, I received two or three of them. The least I could've done was respond, I thought. What would mom think... that I read her heartfelt letters, but couldn't find the time to reply? It was true that my days weren't the least bit busy here, with nothing during the morning and afternoons spent at the studio. And if I were honest, apart from those obligations, I did nothing significant. Occasionally I would go out outside with Kyle and Callie. In truth, it would be more accurate to say that I didn't want to write a reply. How could I? What would I even say? However, that fact paled in comparison to what was truly significant.

After all, the sole reason for me to come here to this town was so that I wouldn't have to face all my problems ever again. I wouldn't need to see that face of that drunk bastard. And I wouldn't have to meet her again, Iva, until I truly understand my true feelings. Only if I could make her let go of me. Make her forget me... I wanted her to forget me.

And it was while the summer break was going on, when I sent Iva the last message. When I had nothing to do, I was in my room, lying on my bed and just texting with her. I couldn't let go of her either, and neither could she. I wondered, is it really love? Or something else? What am I even doing?

I was questioning myself, my own feelings, as if the mask I wore was staring right into my eyes. When did I realize it, after I got the letter from my uncle? No. Far before, after the accident, for sure... I started to realize. From then, I was constantly running in circles, going back and forth in my own thoughts... and in the end, it took me such a long time to realize what I had been doing. I didn't have the guts to face her or my own feelings, yet couldn't let her go either.

But I had to do something. When I stopped texting her from that day, it felt like I was falling down an endless waterfall. Just falling... and falling, as if finally, I was alone again. Every night greeted the new dawn to come. There is no night that went on forever. But it felt like the sun wouldn't shine in my life ever again.

Iva was the only person who saw right through me... and even then, reached out her hand to me.

But it's alright. Even if I'm lost under a pile of thick snow, all alone, it's alright. I made myself believe it Even if when everything ends, nothing is left in my hands...it's alright. Even if after running far, far away... if things can go back to normal, then it's alright for me.

Either face it all, or run away from everything. In the end, I couldn't think of anything but the latter alternative, of running away.

I knew the cost of facing straightforward... and it was too frightening for me. I was like a man who runs to the edge of a cliff, and looks down. Maybe the time here in Boston, when I was still in contact with her, was just as that. I was hoping for something... anything. But the very thought of that terrified me to the core. It was as if I stood by a precipice, gazing into a bottomless abyss. I was a coward, consumed by indecision. And like most cowards, I suffered the consequences of my own cowardliness. Sadly, at that time, I was scarcely even aware of anything, even my own emotions. How I'd truly felt.

Maybe I wanted to return to the life before the accident in Camden... and make different choices than before. Maybe I wanted to pull back time to where everything was still going fine. If I hadn't made that promise with her... if only I had questioned my own feelings sooner. I laughed at myself. I told myself what a great idiot I was. If my hopes had gone no further, I shouldn't have suffered this much. In the end, I can simply just laugh at myself for being such an inconsistent fool.

It was after the new semester had begun. One day, a letter arrived from home. My aunt received it first, placing it on my table. She mentioned it after I returned from school, but I didn't bother to open it immediately. It was that night, after dinner, that I finally settled down and unfolded the envelope. It was quite different from the ones sent earlier, which caught my notice. Inside, a number of papers awaited, carefully stapled together.

One week later, I boarded the first train back to Camden on a weekend. The rhythmic motion of the train carried me forward, while in my hands, I clutched the letter, its words dancing before my eyes.

Dear Noah,

I've written quite a few letters already, although I'm uncertain if you've had the chance to read them. They might still be resting on your table, gathering dust, much like this one might too, maybe.

Like I had written in the previous ones, I am just repeating the same things again. Though they seem the same, but there were more to them than I had written. And each time after sending the letter off in the mailbox, I thought to myself, am I truly being true to my feelings. As your mother, I'm glad to see you pursuing your passions and nurturing your friendships. Your happiness brings me joy, and regardless of your desire for it, I can't help but feel proud of you. But there's something I need to know, if this silence is meant to endure. So please help me to understand the reasons behind it. The anger that seems to have taken hold within you, I want to comprehend it all.

The neighbors, I know it may seem trivial, but their opinions weigh on me. I know you would think that I am shallow to care, but many of those who know us do judge me, and they gossip. And it's hard to bear. I avoid any mention of you, deflecting questions about your well-being. Now that rumors about your dad and how he acts back home with are spreading among the neighbors, I'm feeling even more powerless. It is my family too, and I had to keep a good grip on it. And I refuse to be pitied, especially by those who would take pleasure in comparing their parental success to my perceived failure. Yes, I've become paranoid, and resentful of others who have children that cherish their company, share meals, and have open conversations.

Anger, it resides within me as well. Maybe you fear that, and that's why you hesitate to return. I understand your fear, the worry that the longer this silence persists, the more challenging it becomes to break. I taught you the concept of "strength in silence" during difficult times when it seemed like the only option. But I never anticipated that you would employ it against me. I used to believe that we shared a deep bond, and being your mother has always brought me immense joy. Without you, it feels as if I'm living an incomplete existence. This is an opportunity for you to bring some solace. Please come back to me, or at the very least, explain your reasons so that I can gain a better understanding. Help me find some peace amidst the tormenting questions in my mind.

Lovingly,

Mom

As I returned to town, startling news awaited me. It wasn't about my father though; he had already been discharged from the hospital and was now resting at home. Well, that's the consequence of being unable to tame one's drinking habit.

It turned out that Iva's grandmother had passed away the day before my arrival. By the time I reached town in the afternoon, the funeral had already taken place. Learning of the news, I hurried to the cemetery first, and then to Iva's house.

Iva's grandmother had been an exceptionally kind person. She was the first to know about Iva and me, our secret relationship, and she had always been supportive, showering us with her kindness. I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of Iva's grief. She loved her grandmother so much, a love that defied words.

Taking a turn by Iva's house, right in front of the front gate, I found myself colliding with Alan. Neither of us noticed the other until we both tumbled to the ground. His presence felt as though he had fallen from the sky, his voice laden with surprise.

"Noah..." he spoke, clearly at a loss for words.