บท 2: Prologue: Part 2
That brings the topic back to Alex's room, as another notification popped up on his screen. This one said, "Bring your suitcases downstairs."
Reluctantly, he clutched the bottom suitcase, definitely balancing the upper suitcases so that it doesn't fall when he went to carry it. It was a still process, with movements at the bare minimum to limit the chances for the suitcases to fall off. There weren't enough vibrations from the moving of suitcases for him to experience, so it was all a silent journey. He opened the door out of his room, it was apparent to him that he had slammed the door upon the wall with too much force, for he felt the impact of the door on the wall. Approaching him was his Dad, who came to help him carry the suitcases; it mostly contained clothing, books, and his electronics so it wasn't terribly sorry. There were no interactions between Alex and his father as they walked through the hall and headed down to the living room, partly because it would've been useless to do how Alex would not have been able to hear anything. He would've been possible to do so, but it would've required him to concentrate on his dad's mouth intensely. It wasn't until they finally reached the living room and after they placed the suitcases on the sofa that his dad turned to him and used his hands to start a conversation.
"How's your morning so far? Did you enjoy breakfast?" He was efficient at using sign language, which caused their conversation to be rather smooth. This was the preferred way of talking between them, but mostly only them due to how Aunt Annabeth does not know any sign language at all.
"The breakfast was pretty good, thanks for making the eggs, Dad. And my morning's going well." Alex's hands flowed like water, fluently weaving the signs using his hands intricately.
"That's good," he weaved. It was a long while, with Alex staring at his socks before he noticed his father weaving more signs. "You know Alex, this could've been better. I thought you liked it here in California, I thought you liked the sun and everything. Even if you did, it's not healthy for you to be so alone. I'm sorry I've had to do this, Alex, but you really do need to move back to your mother's. You have your brother and sister there, you have your mom and stepdad there. I'll come to visit a couple of times a year, but I'll mostly stay here with my sister."
It was anger filling through him, all the things he wanted to say but keeping silent. It wasn't worth it, making his dad worried. He was already stressed by his job, he doesn't need a dumb kid like Alex messing with him and overreacting. If anger could be measured in cuts, his hand would've been in half due to the number of times he crushed his fingers into his flesh; he was mute. He felt like there was no reason to tell anyone, he just needed to suck it up. He could talk to others, he could tell others about his issues, but why should he. No one should listen to him, he doesn't deserve attention due to how insignificant he is.
Quickly, his dad followed up on what he was trying to say, "The flight has been delayed. So I don't know when you're going, I'll try to make it sooner than later though. The first time flying alone, it must be exciting for you. The last time you even went on an airplane was 9 years ago when you were 7! I guess we both experienced something major when we were seven. Tell Jenny and Ludwig to treat you nicely, and also tell Ludwig to stop playing so many video games!"
He was quick to follow up with a question as he finished comprehending what his dad's hand signs meant. "What happened to you when you were seven?"
From an expected quick answer, it was surprising that it turned to silence. It was always silent for Alex, but there would always be vibrations around him. This time there was none, no sound and no feels. The expression on his dad's face was still, a direct line until abruptly, he stood up and patted Alex on the back. Confusion filled the air as his dad left the living room into the kitchen to prepare some coffee for his extensive work hours. Despite his interest in the matter, he dared not to even try to question his dad, for it would've resolved in waste like all the other times he had tried to ask about anything related to his dad.
Sitting there meant nothing anymore, so he headed back to his room, tunnel vision straight for the door. The house was relatively large, with the living room in the shape of a rectangle. The right of the rectangle is the dinner table, which near it is a door that leads to the kitchen. Opposite the kitchen table was the sofa, where his suitcases currently reside. Directly in front of the sofa is the entrance to Alex's room, with another hall. The left of the hall is his dad's room, with the right being Aunt Annabeth's room (in the middle of the hall is Alexander's room). His room is in the simple shape of a square, with his small bed in the corner and desk on the opposite corner. Next to the desk is his wardrobe, which now looks desolate due to its recent emptying.
On his desk were still things he needed to put away, including his skinny notebook and his laptop, which he kept just in case he wanted to use it before packing it away. In his case, this turned out to be wise, due to how his trip was delayed. It could just get his other things from his suitcase, but laziness kicked in and left him unwilling to leave his room. His laptop wasn't bad, he'll just use it to watch some videos. After opening up his laptop, he felt a slight sense of boredom, as if he simply did not want to use the computer because he already had so much usage on it. Instead, he flipped open the notebook as he scanned through its contents.
The notebook itself has not been touched since the beginning of summer, and he had only found it recently while emptying his wardrobe. Its contents were relatively normal, with simple sketches of random things such as mountains, lakes, and forests, with occasional notes, but it was then that he found something strange. Near the last page was a column of what looked to be long words, with the heading underlined. It read, "EMAILS AND PHONE NUMBERS", and it contained exactly what the name suggests. Next to the emails or phone numbers is usually the name of the owner of the emails or phone numbers, such as (Hannah) Hanimontani13@gmail.com, (other girl from class) 01neboy01@hotmail.com, (Tom) Sw3d1shgamerXD@gmail.com, and many more. It confused him how he would have emails and phone numbers of other people, and he didn't bother going too deep into it. It wouldn't do any good for him even if he found out, for he was leaving all of them behind and moving to Russia before he even got to know them. The name "other girl from class" was weird to him though, why did he not know her name?
A sudden realization struck as he remembered that person! In one of his classes he had noticed her scribbling on a piece of paper with her email on it, it seemed strange to just keep track of someone's email, but the email could've come in handy when he needed it. But none of it matters now, he was moving back to Russia, leaving all of the little progress he had in California back behind. He knew practically none of the people that own the phone numbers/emails. They were all strangers to him, strangers that he could at least contact at any time, but there was no reason to ever contact them. He would have to make some friends in Russia, he couldn't just live alone in this mess. Or if he doesn't do that, he'll have his siblings at least; so moving back to Russia isn't as bad as it sounds. It couldn't be that bad, well if not considering his mom. Through his years in California, the memories of his mother were attempted to be blocked, all the things she did to him in Russia was blocked. All the times she struck him, all the times that tears dropped silently.
"NO! NO! NO!" The memories flashed back at him as he thought of his mother once more. He dare not even attempt to remember it, they were all best blocked. It felt as if fire exploding within his mind, screaming of inner thoughts from all the times his mother was with him. No time with her had been fully pleasant, any good memories of her shadowed by those of pain. It was too much for him, he can't go back! He can't go back to his mom! "THINK! THINK!"
A thought snapped. A connection was made as he rushed to his computer and pulled up Gmail. This was wrong, but he needed to do it. Once again, he flipped open his notebook to the page of information. He was staying with his dad, taking everything to his advantage. The delay, the ability to contact others, everything. He was making friends. No, not friends. He was making social, academic acquaintances. He was going to convince his dad that he should stay!
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