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Authors: Freesia Lockheart

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BOOK: My Kind of Perfect
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Not sure about souls.

“A guy who gave his whole heart to you,” she said.

Oh, right. A guy. But were we on the same page? “How many
years ago are we talking about?”

“Ten years,” she answered, grittily, as she was getting sort
of exorcised. I didn’t really know the term. But she looked as if her eyes
might reach the ceiling any time soon. Was that a special talent or something?
Or was it part of her act? Or maybe it is a necessity for fortune tellers?

So perhaps I needed to put some thought to it. She seemed
convinced that I dumped someone during that time. I felt sorry for her eyes,
too. So that would be ten years ago. I was eighteen back then.

Did I dump anyone at that time?

I thought hard about it, wondering who my boyfriend was
during that time. I was with... what was his name again? Jonathan! Yes,
Jonathan. He was my second boyfriend and we met in college. But we did break up
a year after so I guessed he wouldn’t count.

“I don’t really know what you’re talking about,” I told her.
Honestly, I was with a guy at that time, so how could I possibly dump anyone? I
wasn’t a cheater, mind you. I was the one who was getting cheated out here.

“There was this guy, one whom heart you disregarded. Fate is
getting back at you and if he will not forgive you right away, your bad luck
will continue,” she told me.

“Okay, I have no idea what you are talking about. That’s
creepy. Here’s my pay. I’m leaving,” I said as I put down some bills and coins
on her table and walked away, annoyed.

“You must definitely ask his forgiveness, young lady,” she
continued saying as I headed out of the door.

“If I know who you are talking about! And as if there’s
one!” I closed the door shut from the outside. I held it steady because it
almost fell down on me. This place needed more renovation than what I thought. What
a creepy old lady. I couldn’t believe that she accused me of something that I didn’t
do. What was she talking about anyway?

Sure, I hurt a soul.

I suddenly wanted to laugh.

“Hey! Are you getting yourself killed?” I was startled by
the voice of a taxi driver who angrily ranted at my direction as I was walking
back to my apartment.

I turned to him and realized that I was standing at the
middle of the pedestrian lane instead of crossing it. Honks resounded from all
side. Given everyone who seemed to notice, me right in the middle of the lane
and all, I hurriedly crossed it. Gosh, I almost got killed again. Was I getting
addicted to getting hit by a car?

And then I stopped.

No, that couldn’t be. My luck was still that bad? I shook my
head. This was just a total coincidence. I shouldn’t believe those words that
the old lady said.

I continued walking back to my apartment. But all of a
sudden, out of nowhere or perhaps shrill thin air, a pot almost fell on my head.
And I barely missed it. Staring at the shattered pot near my feet, my eyes
widened in shock.

What if that thing hit my head? I’d be so dead by now.

I looked up and saw a lady, stunned, looking straight at me.
“Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m... fine,” I stuttered.

Although I wasn’t cock sure about that.

I assured myself that this was just another coincidence.
Feeling light-headed and uncertain, I started walking again and looked around
me. There was nothing that could possibly harm me here. Everyone seemed pretty
harmless anyway. There were kids playing on one side and some old ladies
chattering while having a cup of tea. Okay, the coast was clear. I officially
declared that what had happened earlier was only a coincidence.

However, as I walked around the block, a motorbike came
running fast towards me. The screech of its tire echoed right in front of me,
hard. I barely managed to dodge it in time and it almost hit me head on. And so
in turn, rationally, I shrieked in horror.

Where did that come from?

With the uneven beating of my heart, I shook my head wildly
in denial, still. You were not actually telling me that what that old lady said
was true?

I hurriedly went back home and grabbed my bag. I had to find
out what she was talking about. Or else I would probably be dead tomorrow
morning. I was only twenty-eight and I hadn’t done much just to die out of the
blue.

I locked the door of my apartment and waited for a bus. Good
thing that buses were quite common at this hour. The hour-long bus ride almost
killed me, if not everything else that had happened yesterday and today. And
the moment that I got off the bus, I sprinted my way to our house.

“Mom? Are you there?” I asked as I pounded on the door.

My mother opened it up a minute later, surprised to see me,
of course. “Is everything okay, dear? Are you feeling unwell?”

Oh right, I had just recently put down her offer of taking
care of me here at home. I had to fake some kind of pain so she wouldn’t be
suspicious. I dramatically pointed to my right arm, “Mom, I’m not feeling well.
I kind of have a pain... uhmm... here…”

“But the doctor said that you don’t have a broken bone,” she
said as she looked worriedly at my right arm. I should have rubbed it a little
before for it to look a bit reddish.

“Uhmm... muscle pain! Yes, that one. Not that bad but can I
stay over for a while?” I asked, still pretending that my arm was painful.

“It’s okay, dear. You can stay here anytime,” my mom assured
me.

“Is Dad home?” I asked her, looking inside.

“He will be around at six,” she answered.

Even now, my dad still worked late though he wasn’t that
young anymore. He was a college professor in a university nearby and it was his
life-long passion. Well, aside from his other passions to which I was
undoubtedly included, like for example, getting me married or something.

I sighed.

And with my dad being that way, it would be the same old
thing again. For a moment, I wished that Dad wouldn’t be coming home today. I
was certain that he would give me a long sermon the moment he’d see me. I
should have brought one of my rings and maybe tell him that I was going to be
married soon. Or perhaps the cleverest thing to do was to grab my things and
head off as soon as I got what I wanted. Yeah, the latter was definitely a good
idea. It sounded so much better than hearing Dad’s sermon.

Trust me, it wasn’t a good one.

“Do you want something to eat?” asked Mom as she closed the
door when I entered in.

“I’ll come down later. I’ll go get something from my room
first,” I said to her and then headed upstairs to where my old room was.

It was the same old path I’d taken to and fro for years and
it surely brought back warm memories. I opened the door and removed the white
cloth that covered my bookcase. I coughed a little as I inhaled some of the
dust that fell off. I guessed that it couldn’t be help because my room hadn’t
been used for years. Same old place where my bed was positioned. The same old
things I’d kept before. It was only I who somewhat had changed.

I traced the desk with my fingers, reminiscing the times
when I used to sit here all day and write things out in my diary. That was my
answer—my diary. I hadn’t used it since I was in my fourth year in the
university. But it did keep record of the previous years, which I was certain
included that certain person that fortune teller was talking about.

And after all those years of writing from way back then, it
became kind of piled up by now. I had a dozen of journals in my room. I grabbed
one from the bookcase and looked carefully at the date, making something from
the smudged writings.

Nope, not this one.

I put it back and grabbed the next one beside it.

High school.

Okay, maybe I’d start with this.

I pulled the rest of my high school journals up to the one
that touched my first days in college and put everything in my bag. I would
read it later and bring it with me back to my apartment. I thought that maybe I
would be in need of some reference as I pressed on my journey of finding out
the culprit for my bad luck.

When I went downstairs, I saw my dad looking straight at me.
And he was like the last person on earth I wanted to see right now. Not after
the break-up with Aaron.

“So you’ve actually found some time to visit us,” he said.

I hurried to his side and planted a kiss on his cheek.
There, that would do the trick. I was the youngest of four and my daddy’s
favorite since I was the only girl. And yes, he was worried because of all
that. All my brothers were happily married by now and already had a family of
their own. I was the only one who had been left behind. No child to carry
around. It was not as if I had chosen this kind of life myself. If it wasn’t
for that stupid luck, I should be the happiest person on earth by now.

Hello? Valentine’s Day proposal?

“What’s with the bag? I thought you were staying for
dinner?” asked Mom as she eyed the bag that I was carrying. I looked at myself
and realized that I looked like I was about to knock off any moment soon.

Well, I was planning not to stay. But since it turned out
this way, I guessed I couldn’t help it. Dad would start the sermon anytime now.
I put down my bag and told them, “I’m going to sleep here. It’s kind of dusty
upstairs.”

“I haven’t known that you’ll be coming over so I haven’t
cleaned your room for long,” said Mom as she got dinner ready.

“I’m okay on the sofa,” I assured her, smiling wildly as I
patted the soft cushion.

“What about your arm?” she asked worriedly. “Will you be all
right? You can sleep in our room or we can clean your bed if you want.”

“Oh, my arm’s okay now,” I said as I raised my right arm.
“See? All better.”

My mom nodded silently for a while, unconvinced. “If you say
so, honey.”

She disappeared to the kitchen and I followed her. Between
Dad and Mom with regards to the situation, I’d definitely choose Mom in a
heartbeat. I helped her get the dishes and put it on the table. After getting
everything ready, Mom called my dad to join us. Then we said a prayer and
started eating.

The silence persisted longer than expected. It had been two
minutes and my dad wasn’t still saying a word. I tapped my foot under the table
as I awaited my dad’s long speech. And then after a count of twenty, it began,
“Kayla, when are you going to settle down with Aaron?”

And I was so glad that I already prepared an answer for
that. I managed to devise something while I got the table ready a while ago. I
gulped some water and cleared my throat before I answered, “Actually Dad, I
broke up with him a year ago.”

My Dad choked on his food.

“But I got engaged to some good guy out there. We’re
planning to get married this year if everything goes well,” I hurriedly told
him the rest of my story as my mom patted him on the back.

He choked again on his food.

Was my story that bad?

“Aren’t you happy for me and...” I needed back-up.

Names, Kayla. Think.

“His name is John and he’s a...” I paused. Seriously? Did I
have to run out of stories now? I never thought my dad would actually find my
story so untruthful and surprising. But gladly, after minutes of fiddling with
my fingers, a thought came into mind. “He’s a hotelier. Yes, and he’s single,
of course. Why will I marry a married man, right? And then... he’ll be...
married... yes, married to me this year.”

I had no clue where that hotelier came from. But it sounded
nice so I might as well use that. Actually, I had this fancy thought of
marrying a rich man who owned a hotel. And then I’d be walking down the halls
of that prestigious hotel in my heels and ordering people around since I’d
technically be the wife of Mr. Hotelier or something. If not, then I guessed
I’d be into marrying the next president. Wait, then he would be kind of old. Or
maybe a future president who had a telecommunication company as of the moment?

Or just Aaron. I mean he had a nice job and I loved him so
much.

My mom passed a glass of water to Dad. My dad hurriedly
gulped it all. He then cleared his throat and asked bluntly, “Are you making up
a story?”

Shoot! He saw through it all.

Okay, so my Dad could easily read me off. That was a given.
There was no point in lying. I grew up to be a daddy’s girl after all. And
thus, after so much effort in putting up a story, I finally admitted, “Uhmm...
yes?”

“Is everything alright, dear?” asked Mom. “What happened to
Aaron?”

“We broke up last night,” I said and instantly sunk lower in
my seat. Did we really have to talk about it right now? As far as I knew, I was
still in the process of getting over the guy. And it had only been a day or so.

Mom hurried to my side and brushed my hair. “Are you okay?”

Okay, so I hated it when she did that. I always felt like
bawling my eyes out whenever my mom softly caressed my hair to comfort me. But
I disliked crying in front of anyone and detested showing off my weakness.

Those were unnecessary.

“Of course, I’m okay. Pfft... I’m fine!” Yeah, it was no big
deal. Aaron and I had only been together for two years. And I was already
twenty-eight. He also cheated on me to top all that. Oh, did I mention that he
was getting married or rather already married by now? Not a big deal indeed. I
would be fine.

Totally.

Yeah, that must be so but things would change once I got my
hand on the freak who put this curse on me. I would soon get pass through all
this mess and Aaron would be coming back. I believed that he ran off his
wedding and would soon decide to look for me instead. And then I would get all
my money back. And if everything would go really well, I would find a new job,
too.

Perfect!

I convinced myself full well about my fated happy life. But
suddenly, I felt the corner of my eyes moistened as my mom hugged me from
behind.

BOOK: My Kind of Perfect
13.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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