♠ Mr.Defecto- Chapter One ♠

Chapter One1

Dear Bridget (From: ChaseFoster@hotmail.com)2

I have received your letters. Having only small amounts of time to respond to them this semester. For that I am sorry.3

Elaine and Edward are requesting that I travel by car to the beaches. But I insisted that I take the bus and meet you down at the paddocks. Mostly after Six P.M tomorrow evening. (Not that they know about the paddocks.)4

My letter of course is formal. My words as you can tell are strangled. By eyes that have nothing better to do than to beak in my private matters.5

I am thinking we need to devise a code. Again there is not much point, nor a strong need with graduation nearing.6

Are you scared at all? About graduating.7

It seems like only yesterday that we were climbing trees and playing fashion shows with your “Deluxe dolls.” ( I won't ever let you live that one down.) 8

I wish I could be there or more so I wish I could have you here with me. I am sure you can do well without the support of your parents in that regard.9

Which reminds me. I have something to run by you when we catch up.10

I would write it in this letter,but I don't think it would be wise to promote myself. I would have called you when I arrived home, then there is always Elaine and Edward and the thought of them overhearing my conversation already sends shudders through my body.11

Something tells me if they knew what my plans where then I would be on the first train as far away from you as they could possibly send me. That or I would be stuck in this estate for the entire summer. Which would mean no parties, unless you count the aristocrat lunching and exquisite (face planting) dinner parties.12

I promise to tell you of my thoughts in the paddock, after Six. 13

Please don't forget. I will have no other way of getting to you otherwise. Without of course running into a problem with Edward and Elaine.14

I wish I had of sent more letters. I don't believe two was fair, compared to your collection. Though your efforts would have been good practice, had my parents plans for summer unfolded.15

I can't even bare the thought.16

It is ten in the evening here. We are being requested as of now to head back to the dorms.17

My final night in that room. I doubt I will be sleeping. With the after midnight campus party about to start, and you know what that means18

Yours always – Chase Foster.19

***20

It had been ten, ghastly, lonesome months since I had seen Chase.21

I had been expecting a lengthy email. It was Chase all over. He had such a passion and his writing was always straight to the point, yet everything he wrote was always elegant in language and vocabulary.22

It was one day. One day till graduation weekend break. The biggest weekend of our lives and the thought of Chases presence had chilled the hairs on my back, causing them to rise in my own fear.23

It seemed stupid to want to hide myself away from my best friend. I knew he would never understand if I did. 24

How could he possible understand when I could not understand my own reasonings myself?25

“Bridget, why are you still awake? We are leaving in less than four hours and I know you haven't slept yet. You know how your father is about getting enough sleep. You will be knacked all the way there if you're not careful,” my mother stated, standing with her hands on her hips. Her hair caressing her tired shoulders.26

“Brownie points for mummy,” I joked sarcastically. Quickly closing the email down so that I had nothing to hide.27

In my mind I had something to hide. In reality I had nothing to hide. Nothing that would have shocked, bewildered or disturbed my mother. I still imagined, and reassured myself at every possible chance that I could get though, that I had to hide it away from her. Afraid of what my emotions might show: had I let her into my private world.28

It was a constant battle between my willingness to open up and the fear of my truth. A truth my mother and father would never understand.29

“So what is your excuse this time? What is you white lie? ” she questioned. Taking her time to scan me. My mother knew me well. Well enough to ignite immediate panic in me.30

My eyes became watery. My hands shaking fervently. My bottom lip trembling beneath my teeth as I clamped it still forcing myself to keep my words to myself. Even if only for a few seconds. Time enough to think of another lie. 31

I wanted to open up. I wanted to tell her, but the words seemed to be lost somewhere beneath my compulsion to fight her accusation.32

I stared blankly at her. Feeling my skin boil and my eyes twitch.33

“No excuses. No lies. I am too excited. It is the first day of the rest of my life tomorrow. I think that warrants a big smiley face sticker. Don't you?”34

My mother laughed.35

“Ease up on the sarcasm, and hit the pillow. You will be bloody thankful for it in the morning. It is a good three hour trip, and that is not including the walk out into the paddocks.”36

The paddocks? She knew about the paddocks?37

“Don't look so surprised,” she said, letting her hands fall by her sides. “One day you will wake up and realize that a mother knows all, hears all and sees all, and that you can't hide something from her forever.”38

“I never understated your uber telekinesis powers before,” I said. My fingers tapping against my desk. My open notebook proving my talents were worthless.39

I wanted to write the story of my life. The story of “Mr. Defecto” and I could not write it without telling a lie.40

My mother was not stupid. I gave her shit because it was my right as a cynical teen. A teen venturing into the world of adult hood sooner than I granted.41

It reminded me of the comment Chase had made about my “Deluxe dolls” and how time had passed so fast.42

It seemed like an endless battle to find material for my collection of life, and I had not lived a life worthy of a story.43

It all sounded to me like entries from a diary. One that would have been better used as toilet paper in an outhouse, rather than publishing material. 44

I had a dream I would someday be something. Someone other than the person I despised and hated in myself right now, but with parents like mine and friends like Chase I was only screaming for attention. 45

I was wishing for a life worth screwing up, if only to feel. I had no reason at all. Only a dark truth I needed to discover. One that I kept inside my world, with my words that not even my best friend would understand.46

“You're a classic. Why don;t you do stand up comedy.” she mocked, joking. Her poor, sad, excuse for humor scaring me in the sleepless hours of the morning.47

“What are you working on?” she asked. Her attention veering away from my insomnia to my open notebook. The empty, lined pages shining their glow of betrayal brightly in both of our eyes.48

To tell or not to tell. That was the greatest question and I knew the answer.49

“Last day essay,” I lied. “The time of our lives.”50

What was one more embellishment? It was not as if I was lying to her. I could have said anything. Yet the title that would have been more appropriate though was the lies of our lives.51

I wished I could have told her, but it was my compulsion. My addiction and I was not ready to admit that I had added yet another dark strike to my sins.52

“Sounds like some sad excuse for a Dawson's Creek episode, but they want us slaving away until the very last minute, and you know me,” I said indicating my attitude towards my schooling. Another lie. Surely this time I would be caught out.53

“Sounds like a good idea. Readying you for the demands of university I suspect,” she eyed me. “Don't tell your father I said that,” she laughed. Her laughter loud enough it could cause a seizure in the dead.54

“Your secret is safe with me,” I promised. No intention of giving away anything to anyone else.55

It was times like these I regretted having lips that moved and a voice that did nothing but speak dishonesty.56

“I never expect you to confine in me Bridget, but you know you can talk to me about anything, at anytime for any reason, right?”57

In searched her silver eyes. Honesty pained from within her.58

I wondered what it must be like to be able to open her mouth and speak the truth genuinely as she did.59

Had there ever been a time when she had been just like me?60

I found myself often reassuring myself that I was not like them. I was no “defecto”. When in all honesty I was as much a “defecto” as the rest of them. 61

“Where did that come from?” I asked averting my eyes towards the ticking clock that would soon chime four A.M. I could not look her in the eyes. I knew that if I did she would know. She would see it immediately. 62

The deception, the secrets, the toxicity of my emotions.63

“Call it mothers intuition.”64

“Along with telekinesis, right?” I said lowering my voice to a hushed whisper. Hearing the faint sound of feet padding their way into the kitchen. The fridge light beaming into the dark hallway.65

“Something like that,” my mother nodded. Her eyes deeply searching for my truth.66

I was not giving it to her. I could and would not even if I tried.67

One more day and I would have the world at my fingertips. A story to tell. Maybe then I could share the emotions she was desperately needing. 68