Untitled Chapter 11 (I See You)

    When Michael drops me off at home before going to stash his motorcycle some where, I find my father asleep on the couch. His usually gelled, blonde-white hair is mussed. He’s fully dressed in his work clothes and shoes, but he reeks of beer.
    I throw down my purse and gym bag and shake him a little. “Dad.” When he doesn’t even stir, I shake him a little harder. “Dad!”
    He jerks awake with one loud snore. His bleary, red eyes find me.
    “Lia.” He croaks, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”
    “Go to bed, Dad.”
    It take a bit of heaving and back-breaking, but I finally manage to get him upstairs and into his bed. I get off his shoes and place them in their place in his closet, throw a blanket over him and shut off the light before heading downstairs.
    Josh is just coming in, says hi to Michael who is in the kitchen before I order him upstairs to do his homework.
    “You don’t like this, do you?” Michael asks me as I begin doing the dishes.
    “Like what?”
    “Your life.”
    “I have to save the world.” I say. “Literally. I doubt anybody would like their life while trying to do that, especially when they don’t know how or what to do.”
    I’m scared and confused as to how I’m the key to all of this, though. And it’s a little bit stressful, to be honest.
    “I was talking about your family…and friends.” He clarifies, staring right at me while I try not to look at him.
    “Family is family.” I reply. “What am I supposed to do about that? It’s not like I can just abandon them. And with my friends…it’s like, I can’t just ignore them without having a big fight.”
    He seems to ponder over this as I finish up the dishes and heat up last night’s spaghetti for Michael, my brother, and myself. I take a plate up for my brother because he hasn’t been downstairs for a meal since Mom died. When we’re done eating and the dishes are clean, I head upstairs to shower and finish my homework.
    I’m just about to turn off my lamp and Michael’s just about to leave when I stop.
    “Can I ask you something?”
    He turns to look at me.
    “What did you do?” I ask, awkwardly. “You know--up there?”
    “I was a soldier.” Michael says, leaning against the doorframe. “A general in His army.”
    I notice, not for the first time, how Michael never says His name.
    “What changed?” I have the feeling the I’m prying but I have to know more about him--more about this and not just that I have to prove myself. “Why did you fall?”
    “You’ve been doing your research.” He replies but without emotion and then answers the question, but very vaguely. “I was given an order I didn’t believe in. I disobeyed.”
    “Don’t angels only fall when they lose their faith?” I ask.
    “No, we fall when we go against Him--when we disobey.” Michael says. “He lost faith. I didn’t.”
    I’m sure that he must feel irritated or think that I ask too many questions, but he remains stoic. Honestly, I want to make him feel something--make him show any type of emotion, because it bothers me that ever since he got here, there’s nothing expressive about him.
    “Why do you still have faith?”
    Michael is quiet for a long time. “When God chose your kind as the object of his love,” he says finally, “I was the first in all of heaven to bow down before you. My love--my hope for mankind was no less than his.” He shakes his head despondently. “But I have watched you trample that gift. I’ve watched you kill each other over race and greed…” He looks at me in a way that makes me afraid that he’s disappointed in us too, but I’ve never been good at reading expressions.
    “And yet in the midst of all this darkness, I see people who will not be bound by hatred or corrupted by pain or the evil in the world.” His eyes flash up to me and he slowly makes his way over to me as he speaks. “I see some people who will not give up, even when they have no clue if there’s anything left to hope for. I see people who’ve gone through the darkness alone and I think, ‘If they can find their way, then so can the rest of them.’” He stops in front of me and his eyes hold mine. “I see you, Lia.”
    I stare at him, almost confused with my eyebrows pulled together.
    “Fourteen years old--you get raped, get an abortion. Your mother commits suicide, your father drinks to drown out the pain, you brother withdraws from the world and you spend the next two years of your young life, helping him find his way home--even if you know that he may hate you for the rest of his life.
    “The whole world turns its back on you and you still love and care and laugh, refusing to let the pain of what’s happen overcome you.”
    It seems strange. Yes, everything in my life sounds completely horrible, but it honestly doesn’t feel that way. It’s like getting over a death--you start of thinking about it all day every day, then a few times a day, then a few times a week, then a few times a month, then a few times a year. And by the end of that, it doesn’t hurt to think about it all because you’ve moved on.
    “It’s all because of you, Lia.” He answers the question I’d forgotten all about. “You are the reason I’ve kept my faith.”
    Michael is stand close. Closer than close. He’s gazing down at me with crystal blue eyes, filled with emotions too intense for me to even begin to understand.
    It makes my heart beat unevenly, my face flush, and my hands sweat. I’m not exactly sure what to do--move away or stay where I am. All I know is that I’m extremely uncomfortable, whether it be in a good or a bad way. I’m pretty sure it’s in a good way. Bad only because I’m terrified.
    I want him to kiss me. I think he’s going to kiss me.
    But like I said, I’m bad at reading body language, only able to tell when someone is mad, sad, or happy.
    Then his expression was shut and locked like a door, once again. “Sleep well, Lia.” He says and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
    I close my eyes and sigh. My hands come up to my head, almost wanting to pull my hair out in frustration.
    How can I be so stupid?