punk rocker

I guess this is a phase, like most things in life. Then again, some phases turn into life-choices and I have nothing against that. The kind of music just surprises me a little though I shouldn’t be. They’ve only ever heard what could be heard on the street before. Now they have a radio and they’ve taken up the habit of switching from one channel to the next on really quiet days. Most days are quiet days.

Personally, I’ve always preferred the music I could hear playing while I grew up but I know that they were too young when the massacre happened, when our whole loves were flung out into the wind, to really remember that kind of music. So when they get their music up, I either plug in some headphones to listen to mine or I just focus on something else.

They don’t listen to it loudly, it’s just different to hear music at all after those few weeks in the other apartment and before that the street. I admit I’m getting used to this idea that this little bit of safety off the street is mine with no true strings attached. I do want to believe. I even found a job, it’s just a few slight hours a week but it is money. Money is a necessity in life though personally I believe that if we could all work out on sharing the loads, sharing the food and everything else, things might just be simpler.

I’m not sure what kind of music it is they’ve discovered today, it might be punk rock from what little I know of music styles but it has been an almost on-repeat style since the early morning when I was startled out of a rather comfortable and warm sleep. I’m half lazy, I’m aware, I like to stay nestled up in bed where it’s comfortable and warm and all. The boys are early risers, old habits die hard. I guess I adapt to safety a tiny bit easier than them. I’ve known otherwise, they haven’t really.

I tried blocking it out when I first woke up but I found out that they had the music on a little louder than usual so it was useless to try to just roll over and ignore it. I got up, dressed and looked in on them, reminding them that everything in life had a volume cap and it wasn’t pleasant when that cap was ignored. They looked sheepish, lowered the volume to a more comfortable level and I let them be, wandering off to the kitchen to see about getting some food prepared for us.

It’s strange, this ability to be able to actually prepare food this way again. After years of begging for money and then buying something that had enough in it for us three to share. I wasn’t that old when I had to run with the twins but I hadn’t really been cooking long. The women in the family prided themselves in their cooking skills and sadly I had been the one black sheep of the family where I just didn’t care to learn, so I started the process much later than anyone else ever had.

I’d like to think I can manage a meal well enough, so long as it’s nothing overly complicated. In time I might learn and better myself but so far, no one has complained about the food I’ve been serving these past few days.

Suddenly the music goes quiet and I blink in surprise. This isn’t usual from their habit, they like having a little bit of noise (music, I know) around, they’re not used to the really quietness of this place. They used to chatter almost nonstop when they were in the other apartment to keep it from being too quiet.

I spy them trying to sneak past and I have to roll my eyes.

“You two are not going to go down and bother him. He’s not like us, you shouldn’t even be near him. If he learns of what you are we might all be in trouble!” I call out to them in Hindi, since it still is the language they understand best. I know I’m being harsh, I don’t understand why Eoghan brought him here at all. He’s different from us, though he might be a demon and I wouldn’t know but during the blackout, Alexis had told us that whatever his name is (I honestly can’t remember) was different, that we had to keep our gifts to ourselves. Eoghan said this building would be for us gifted who needed a roof, so I really, just really don’t get it.

My brothers complain, whine and huff at being told that their plans had just been cancelled. They backtrack and come back into the kitchen, pouting all the way before they settle into their chair. I don’t know why they’re so fascinated with him. I suppose it might be his crutch. It’s not the first time we’ve seem someone who was lame this way though they’ve always been curious to know more an understand the reason behind that lameness.

I’m just trying to protect them still. It’s all I’ve done in all those years and I don’t warm harm to befall them again. I let it happen once with the other man and I don’t even want to think about that ever again. They seem to have forgotten that utterly and that’s all that matters. All I want is their safety.

After breakfast I shoo them back into their room, reminding them that they had mock-homework. Alexis and Eoghan lend them books and Eoghan once a week or so, I guess it depends on how busy he is, tends to quiz them. It’s usually over the dinner we all share. We might just be sharing that dinner up on the top floor starting from now, they have the room. Though I guess maybe they’ll alternate from up there to the other building just the same. I don’t know.

They huff and complain again but I shake my head. I know they’re curious about the world, I know they just want to learn more and experience more. I also know that it’s more or less my fault that they’re now trying to learn these languages to try to manage a better life. So they can get around without always the need to have someone at their sides to translate. I should have taught them the language but I was terrified that once they knew enough they’d leave me side, go off to I don’t know where and I might never see them again.

After all the struggles I’d had to keep them safe and fed and the rest, I didn’t want this to happen. It was selfish and I know this. I can’t go back and change things however. If I could I would go back even further, back to the massacre that took our family and I would do all I can to prevent it.

Time cannot be turned back. Lives cannot be saved this way. I have to go on, move forward and just do my best to live the life I have now. It’s all I have and while I might have more in time, this is a good sort of start. I can’t ask for more just yet.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s