Julius Caesar - Chapter 64

Chapter 64: 64






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Remember when I said there are three levels of pain?

Well, it turns out that there are also three levels of emptiness.

The first being after the trivial things like after a little heartbreak where time and people will always be there to help you overcome it and ignore it.

Then there's the second level where I had lived almost all my life because of my lack of good purpose that cost me a lot. And in a way or another, for me, the third level sprouted from this level.

I stood straight next to the window, watched the sunset and waited for Samantha to come over to absorb the dark clouds looming over me as I helplessly witnessed the third level of emptiness engulf me all and whole.

I pressed myself against the cool glass and put my forehead against it, playing with the thought of kicking the glass till it shattered and letting my woes out to gravity as I'd plummet to my certain death.

Oh, it was just a thought that I daren't enact because of the promises I'd made to Samantha the day she found blood on one of the kitchen knives and one of my shirts, the day she found a gun in my mouth, the day she found two pill bottles and suspected that I'd 'harm' myself...

I wasn't going to harm myself. I was going to free it. Reunite it with its loved ones. Mum. Augustus?

She didn't understand. She didn't want to understand. She'd cry so bad, holding a knife to her throat and swearing by the damned night to kill herself if I ever did that. 'Harmed' myself that is.

And dammit I couldn't be the reason behind more people's deaths now, could I be?

As I tapped on the glass pane and closed my eyes, I perfectly defined the third level of emptiness.

Needless to say, it's the worst because hope is the main culprit. Hope that you think has saved you from the second level. Hope that has decorated an amazing future. A future free of emptiness.

Your heart is soaring. Soaring. Breaking through the atmosphere. You end up giving your life to hope, seeking more and more rewards, more love, more care- things the second level of emptiness never provided to me. And you can't even see that smirk on hope's face. But hey, happiness is blinding and literally breathtaking.

Hope doesn't weaken, doesn't fade away slowly, doesn't come to its knees. Ha, no. Hope -Sharon- I learnt that it dies, vanishes and only comes thudding down, billowing the dust of reality in your face.

Just. Like. That.

And to me, hope was Augustus and Samantha. The only goodness in my life. The only peek of light that I thought I could use to escape my dark world. They were both cruelly torn away from me in their own terrible ways. Augustus bled to death in my cold arms. And Samantha lost her innocence to the darkness that she was forcefully plunged into. Her smiles and eyes were never the same after what had happened happened. They were so much heavier with unspoken sorrow. I mean who wouldn't change after they've witnessed the betrayal of every goddamned person they know- family and lover?

And I wondered why did I have to be the hope she held on to- like she told me when she threw away the pills with tears spilling from her piercing, blue eyes. Didn't she know I was fading away? Wasn't she afraid of the consequences of being with someone like me?

And there it is, the third level where when hope dies, you die too.

It had been a month since Augustus' death. A month of me staring out of the same window, and yes, wait for Samantha. But today, and just like the whole previous week, darkness prevailed and no Samantha showed up.

And it worried me. A lot.

Why wasn't she coming to talk to me and fill my heavy silence? Did she change her mind on me being worthy of her attention? She wasn't answering any of my phone calls and I felt like dying because of my fear that suffocated me and kept me locked behind that door. Unable to leave. To get out, see the world and just accept that my brother was long gone. That the world was still as it was without him.

Oh, I was terrified to see this truth. Because God- I hated a world without him. I hated not being able to talk to him and hear him blabber. I hated it. I hated it. I hated it. Because it reminded me of how much I miss him. I hated how time passed and nothing was there to stop it. That time was passing and he wasn't showing up. Dammit, he'd never show up.

But I had to go because I couldn't imagine what was happening to Samantha. What if she was somehow in danger? What if someone came to her? What if Lucien escaped? Shouldn't I be the one to save her?

I stopped solidly in front of the door, a few feet away, before walking toward it till my face was a few inches away. I pressed my forehead there, hesitantly reached for the doorknob and wrapped my fingers around it. I almost hyperventilated when I heard it click. This was it. More questions managed to fill my head, piquing my panicking and in one quick motion, I opened the door. I breathed heavily and backed away from it as it slowly creaked open.

It was two in the morning and the hotel's hallways were drenched in the darkness that the small yellow, light-bulbs tried to dominate. And failed.

My breathing fastened out of control before I clenched my fists and dashed out of the room as if fire chased me. I ran like hell, careening around corners and tumbling down the stairs. I was scared that if I ever stopped, even for the lift, my thoughts would overwhelm me and I'd end up in my room again.

I didn't stop until my feet splashed onto the wet streets. I inhaled sharply and craned my neck. My eyes widened at the huge raindrops that came splattering on my forehead. I pulled up my hood and ran down the dark streets that were faintly illuminated by streetlights, my feet pounding against the slippery tarmac and my breaths fighting their way out into the oddly cold night.

Too, too much rain- was the only thing I allowed myself to think of as my calfs burned and my heart exploded in my chest.

Nevertheless, I ran past the park and blinked at the sight of the lonely benches. At that bench where Augustus and I had sat on one day. When he stole my scarf and we talked about Sam. Yes. I remembered it all.

I was even about to collapse in front of it but my brain screamed 'Samantha!' and I didn't have the heart to stop. I didn't want to stop. I was too afraid I'd have to hug that bench to sleep every day and be awoken by people questioning my sanity.

I cried for a little though, my tears mixing with the rain that soaked my clothes and that had managed to stop for a while before falling harder than before.

When I stood in front of her house, panting and swiping at the mixture of rainwater and sweat at my brows, I hugged myself and ducked before head-running to her front door past the fence.

I stood for a long while in front of the door, shivering and huffing as I tried not to remember the day that Augustus had showed up there to help me with my 'problem'. I tried not to see him in my mind standing in my place, lowering his sunglasses, chewing his gum and assessing my 'boner situation'.

Come on, Julius. Come on. Samantha! She's all you got now.

I tapped my feet absentmindedly before deciding I couldn't wake her up at such a time. Maybe I should return tomorrow, I thought. But who said you'd be able to make it out again?

I backed away, trapped by my dilemma.

Man up. Man up. Nothing could ever hurt you that bad again. Nothing could be worse than what happened. You know it.

Curious and lonely, I shuddered and walked to the huge glass walls. The ones, if you remember, where she stood by, with her wine glass, while confronting me about who I was.

I was looking from the outside this time. It was dark inside, but my eyes had accustomed to the darkness anyway. I saw the outlines of the sofas in the living area and noticed a faint light behind the spiralling stairs. I tensed up at the thought of someone being there. Awake. At that time.

I got closer to the glass pane, rested my palms on it and squinted as if it would make me see any better. But then-

A shadow.

My heart sped up and I pushed myself harder on the glass as I tried moving around, hoping for a better angle to see. And almost instantly Samantha's frail figure ambled into the living area from behind the stairs, in short, white nightwear, her hair a messy bun and her face unclear to me.

I pushed away from the wall once she spotted me and slapped her hand to her chest in shock. She then dropped her hand slowly and got closer to me. To the wall. Her beautiful, pale face was getting better illuminated by the faint moonlight. Her lips then parted and her eyes shot everywhere, panicking.

What was wrong?

She then straightened up, failing to smile. She then hesitantly pointed to the door, but my eyes remained fixed on her. She was terribly on edge. And I wondered if she finally did it. If she finally broke down and saw our depressing reality.

Oh, she has been strong. She held on for long enough now.

I looked behind her shoulders but there was nothing suspicious. Nothing that I saw. I looked back at her but she was gone. To open the door.

I walked to her door again, consumed by my thoughts, and this time it was slightly open. She peeked at me from the door slit and I looked down.

"Come in." She opened the door wide enough and I stepped in.

I took off my soaked shoes, hoodie and was left in my black shirt and dark jeans, sticking to me like second skin. I ran my fingers in my wet hair, rubbed my palms and exhaled in them. I then stared at her in the dim lighting of the house and found it odd that she didn't attempt to kiss me or even hug me like she usually did. In fact, she distanced herself from me.

Maybe, I am too wet for that- I thought as I watched her fumble with her hands and pull down at her nightwear next to the sofa.

It got too quiet between us and I wondered if I should just leave. Maybe, I came at the wrong time. Maybe she wasn't ready to deal with my bullshit now.

"You came-" She finally said as I uncomfortably stood by a tall, empty decorated vase. She seemed to notice my discomfort because she asked me to take a seat as she switched on faint yellow lights.

I was about to strip off my pants so I wouldn't wet her couch when she held out a hand, closing her eyes.

"No-" she said almost inaudibly and I raised my eyebrows.

I stopped unzipping them and gave her a questioning look.

"It's two in the morning. We can talk tomorrow. You can sleep here if you want-"

In other words- get the fuck out.

But, no, Samantha, I am too worried to just 'sleep' it off. There is a reason why you're keeping your distance from me. I can feel it in your different warmth. Hear it in your voice and see it in your shaky hands.

Samantha. You are hiding something.

I shook my head solidly and walked toward her in long, steady strides. I then held her arms and forced her eyes to mine.

"I need to sleep, Julius-" she said despondently and I was further infuriated by how she was calling me 'Julius' not 'Caesar'. This should've been the least of my concerns but it wasn't really.

Those details are rather important now.

She tried pulling away but I held her in place and frowned. She then took a deep, deep breath and brought her shaky right hand to her forehead before her face scrunched up and she just started sobbing out of nowhere.

I was utterly disarmed seeing her like this. Sniffing and hyperventilating in my arms. I gulped and felt my heart sink in despair. My love was crying on me and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know why she was crying. God, what have I done?

I let her go and she started pacing around in front of me, hand on hips and the other massaging her forehead. Her precious tears continued cascading as her sobs filled the empty space between us.

I had already backed away toward the door, thinking that I must leave, that she had had enough of me, when she said something that took my breath away.

"I'm pregnant, Julius!" she stated/exclaimed it as my eyes widened at her confession.

She stopped pacing and turned to me, her lips pursed and her eyes teary. "And I was so confused. I-I didn't- I don't know what to do-" Her arms flailed around and my mouth dried.

"I didn't know how to tell you about it. I didn't know if I should ever tell you about it. But-" she was shaking her head, her fingers fumbling. "But that's another human life. And I just- I panicked!"

My lips parted and my heart fluttered in my chest as my eyes fell to her obviously still flat stomach. Wow, I thought, this is awesome.

I approached her slowly as she tried controlling her heavy breaths. She watched me very closely with her dark, sleep-deprived eyes, scared of my reaction and raised her eyebrows helplessly at me as she hid her shaking hands behind her back.

When I was close enough to her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me. She didn't resist.

I reached for her hands which she had curled into fists and engulfed them in mine. She visibly relaxed under my touch and I liked that. I like that very much.

Her fingers slowly uncurled and I raised them, brushed them with my lips before kissing the inside of her palms. I then dropped her hands, pecked her forehead and looked straight in her teary eyes with a deep breath.

I offered her a smile. A genuine one.

She cleared her throat and sniffed as I intertwined our fingers together. "So that's it?" She asked as I rested my forehead on hers. "You-You're happy?"

I flinched at the question.

Essentially, I wasn't happy. But I was less sad. It didn't excite me as it probably should've, but it was good news in its own way. It was a gleam of treacherous hope.

When I look back at that moment, Sharon, I like to think that life takes and gives. That for everything it grants you, you pay its price by losing another thing. And here, I was getting a life for a life.

A magical concept, really. Maintaining equilibrium.

I nodded at Samantha, nevertheless and pecked her little, red nose with another smile. And with unexplainable excitement, I reached for her stomach. I looked down and she erupted in a fit of 'sniffly' giggles.

"What are you doing, Caesar?" She breathed out and I could hear her smile in her recovering voice. "It's barely a month old."

For some reason that made me grin and got me on my knees. I dropped a kiss on her belly and stayed there, holding her close to my ear even though I knew I wasn't going to hear anything. I wanted to show her how much I supported her. How much I loved her for this gleam of hope.

Samantha ran her fingers in my hair and I felt my heart grow in my chest again. It was like, life was flickering back into it in moments like those.

It was this moment, Sharon, when I decided 'I will marry this woman. She and the life growing inside her are mine.'

I then stood up, cradled her face in my hands and pressed our foreheads together. An unexpected tear had escaped from my eye as I brushed my thumb across her hot cheek.

If words could get out, I wouldn't have shut up about how I felt at that moment. A moment of melancholic joy. I would've let my words soothe her, kiss her soul and be her second backbone.

But all I had was this. My touch that couldn't get close enough.

She sniffed once before she suggested going to sleep.

And that was what we did that night. She slept cradled in my arms on her soft bed while I stayed awake, rubbing her stomach and getting illusions of a faint heartbeat.

If it is a boy, I swore I'd name him Augustus.

And with that thought, I slept.

---

Mornings were literally beginnings of new days for me. They had the ability to select all that happened the previous day and click delete. However, this odd concept seemed to only focus on deleting all the desired memories while emboldening ruthless ones.

I was sitting at a small circular table in the corner of the kitchen, staring at the sapphire ring on my right hand's index finger and feeling my heart die in me a little.

"Coffee?" Samantha asked, snapping me out of my looming thoughts as she buzzed around the kitchen, preparing peanut butter sandwiches and a cup of orange juice for herself.

I looked up and watched the sun rays pouring from the huge windows give her an extraordinary glow. Her black, silky hair shone breathtakingly and her exposed skin breathed beautifully. I wanted to take a picture.

I nodded vaguely in response as my eyes fell to her stomach in wonder. I would never get used to it.

Samantha seemed to notice and smiled to herself as she poured me a cup of steaming coffee and offered me a sandwich which I rejected.

She sighed before setting the plate of sandwiches and juice on the table and sitting in front of me.

"You barely eat anything, Caesar," she commented, curling her fingers around her cup of juice.

I ignored her and sipped on my coffee before suddenly developing a strong ache for something I'd missed.

Oh, yes, cigarettes. I need a new pack. Turns out that I didn't quite quit smoking, Gustus- was what I thought.

When I glanced up at her, she wasn't eating, she was studying me instead. I raised my eyebrows subtly at her and she pursed her lips as if deciding on whether or no to say something.

She said it anyway.

"Augustus left you a letter, you know. And his urn," she said slowly and my hold around the boiling hot cup tightened. Maybe physical pain could cover up my other pains, I thought- distract me.

I looked down and was almost shocked at the speed by which my eyes watered.

"You can have them whenever you want. When the time's right for you-" She paused, sensing my discomfort. She then sighed and I felt her reach for my hand. "Julius-?"

I wiped my eyes with my other hand before looking up at her. Her head was tilted in sympathy and her forehead was creased with concern. "It's been a month, babe. He'd wanna be set free. Be peaceful."

I stared at her hard, trying not to frown. What she had said had disturbed me on so many levels. Augustus was peaceful. Hell, Augustus was peace.

I pulled my hand away and got out of the kitchen, suddenly feeling sick as the memories came all fucking in. I turned a corner and rushed into a washroom before collapsing right in front of the toilet seat. I grasped onto the sides with my hands that weren't really my hands anymore. They were bloody hands. Hands bloodied by my brother's blood.

I hyperventilated as the pungent smell of bleach pierced my nostrils. I then dry-heaved and used a hand to remove the hair that stuck to my forehead with sweat. I was sweating so much. So goddamn much.

There was nothing to vomit. I hadn't eaten much at all.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I banged my head with the toilet seat. Have mercy on me. Please. Please, Augustus, have mercy on me. I burst into tears before I felt Samantha's arms around my torso, pulling me away for the hundredth time.

No, this wasn't the first time I broke down this way.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry-" she said it like it was the saddest thing ever as she hugged me to her on the pristine washroom floor. But I quickly pulled away, got to my feet and staggered to the sink where I let the water flow.

I needed to wash the blood away. I needed to wash the blood away. I needed to wash the blood away.

I stared at the water stream before flinching under Samantha's touch when she hugged me from behind, planting her face in the middle of my back. I gulped and put my bloody han -no, no- I blinked away the blood and recognized my bloodless, callous hand with slightly bruised knuckles. I huffed out a long, shaky breath and looked at the mirror where Samantha's blue eyes were watching me with immense concern. And love.

She is so goddamn beautiful.

I locked her eyes' reflection and tried calming down.

"Come on," she whispered and turned the tab close. "Let me show you the letter. I'm sure you'd want his last words."

And yes. Yes, I did.