Chapter 2: Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO: A NEW BEGINNING
R1.
RADJAN
I arrive at the flat my father and I are renting. Of course, my father is on the floor again, out cold, quite possibly very drunk, laying close to his own vomit. This is mostly the scene I come home to every day. I am actually getting sick of it already. I shake my head in dismay. I carry him over to the couch, clean him up and put clean clothes on him.
“Radjan, my son, you’re here,” he mumbles.
“You’re drunk. Again,” I say darkly. I look at him in disgust. He opens his eyes, stares at nothing, looking so confused.
“The door, son, did you close the door? Tell the guards not to close the gates either. Your mom might come home,” he says, slurring.
I am already used to that line. He always says those lines whenever he gets too inebriated. I can’t take hearing it over and over anymore. We don’t have guards anymore. We don’t even have a gate anymore. We are now just renting a really small and shabby flat. I used to get whatever I wanted but it feels like it was life was from an alternate universe. My parents are divorced. My mother left us not so long ago and never came back. I never heard from her again. My father became addicted to alcohol and so many other illegal substances to cope with the pain of losing her.
I’m not an expert at love but as far as I understand the concept, it is supposed to be a good thing. Why am I seeing my father destroyed by love slowly every single day then? Why do I see nothing but pain? And if she ever loved him – ever loved ME – why did she walk out of the door so easily?
I remember his helpless pleading. Please let’s work it out one more time. For Radjan, our son. If you leave, he will lose his mother. But she just stared at him blankly and said she already fell out of love with him and her new boyfriend could not ever find out that she has a son from her previous marriage or he would surely leave her.
I love him, I can’t afford to lose him. I’m sorry. Words she heartlessly told him. I expected her to come to my room and explain to me herself why she could afford to lose me, her own child, but not her new boyfriend. I expected a heated argument between us. I expected I would get the chance to tell her to her face how much of a coward I think she was but I never got the chance. She just left without saying anything to me. It was already about a year ago, but I can still remember every detail so painfully like an indelible ink forever etched in my skin.
It didn’t take long for my father’s downward spiral. He let himself go. He stopped showing up for work. I think he even stopped taking showers eventually. All of our properties, including our house, were sold to pay our insurmountable loans, and money fizzled out so quickly because of this, coupled with all those vices he couldn’t ever quit. Alcohol, drugs, more alcohol. We lost everything we owned. We used to be the richest family in town, but this is our life now. The most tragic from riches to rags story – if I ever heard one.
Anyway, I am not a loser. Losing is not in my vocabulary. I am used to winning everything I commit myself to, so even if it’s been a struggle for me financially, I still did my best in school. I promised myself I’d excel in school like I always have and no one could ever beat me to the top. I promised myself I will never love anyone else except my father. I hate him sometimes, but he’s still my father and he’s the only one I have now. I’m the only one he has now as well and I know he needs me. I can’t really fail him.
Also, what’s the point of ever being in love if you’d end up destroying yourself eventually anyway? Watching my parents’ love story – if you can call it that - just made me question everything I thought I knew about love. I thought it was supposed to be eternal, rather than something with an expiration date. I found out the hard way that it is more like having a material possession you own and once cherished than you get sick of it one day when it gets old and used up and you want to own and cherish something new again. Maybe I’m better off not ever involving myself in such things.
It wasn’t hard to switch schools, because I got good grades in my previous one. I easily got in through the Martin Andersson University scholarship program. This new school is the closest school to the place we are currently renting. That’s really why I chose it. Also, because of its basketball program. I love playing basketball. It was something my father and I had in common. Not that he ever won in our one-on-one games. I have always won those. I’ve always felt like a natural at it. He said I got the basketball genes from my grandfather.
Anyway, I plan to try out for the basketball team in my new school. Tomorrow is going to be my first day. I promised myself not to ever let anyone know my real situation at home. It’s a cruel world out there. If you don’t have the money, you’re basically nothing. People will always look down on you no matter how impressive your achievements are. I wouldn’t let anyone treat me that way. Anyway, I think I will still pass as a rich kid. I haven’t lost my car at least. It was a gift from my father back when he was still a cool, rich dad. I also own a phone that would make anyone automatically assume I’m part of the in-crowd. I think I can pull this big pretense off.
I wake up very early for my first day of school. I am determined to make a good impression on my first day. I make sure to take a brief glance at the mirror to see my reflection as I am leaving home. Needless to say, I like what I see. I smile despite myself. No one would ever guess that I am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.