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What do you know about loneliness ?
Her father, behind the glass, had spat out that question at her during her last visit just a week ago. She wanted so much to snap back at him that she knew about it plenty. Since she was in her mother's womb until the day her father got arrested for a crime he didn’t commit, Freen had experienced loneliness more than her peers did. And she was barely twenty-six of age. Either by choice or not, she would, more often than not, find herself alone with only the voice inside her head as a companion.
One might argue that being alone and being lonely didn’t necessarily mean the same thing, but for her, the line between those two words had blurred and made them blend seamlessly into one another. She would watch people around her like they were in some kind of program on television, she could only witness but never partake in any kind of conversation. Not to mention that people seemed to always steer clear from her way, and it was always due to his father’s status—then, a prime minister, now, a prisoner. Her two sisters didn’t look like they experienced the same problem as her though, so she wondered if this was more of her, and less of her father’s status.
Freen closed her eyes as she recalled her father’s question again and again. She wondered why she didn’t answer what she had in mind. Maybe because she knew he didn’t long for an answer, he simply just needed to vent. Or maybe because she was grateful that her father talked to her and didn’t deem her invisible.
She opened her eyes when she felt another person’s presence in the room, she knew it was her mother by the light shuffling of her feet instead of a heavy thump of her stepfather or a light almost lazy drag of her stepbrother. Freen put the book on the table and gave her mother her full attention, in case she needed something from her. But of course, it was a futile thing, for her mother only grabbed her handbag that was left on the couch before moving on to the staircase to get to the master bedroom.
You can’t really blame her, you look too much like father that she can’t look at you in the eyes without breaking her heart even more.
She remembered her talk with her oldest sister a few years ago when their father was under public scrutiny because of the corruption case that landed him fifteen years in prison. And Freen had asked back,
Is it my fault that I look too much like him?
Her sister’s mouth snapped shut, her gaze defeated. Not for the first time she felt like she had failed her role as the first child in the house. But Freen never meant to put blame on anyone, she simply just wanted to know.
After her mother’s back disappeared from the land of her vision, she moved her gaze to the big wedding picture that hung above the television intimidatingly. The man, or should she say her stepfather, was a tall man with a lanky posture and a serene expression was always present on his face. A childhood sweetheart his mother had left in Bangkok for New York decades ago. He was kind, but treated her awkwardly like he had no idea what to do with her if it was not in the office. And she understood that, after all, she was only baggage her mother brought into their marriage to balance his.
The heat outside was blazing hard, and the air conditioner inside blazed just as hard. Despite the fifth month of the year nearing its end, the sun was still glaring as if April had just started. Sitting in the park would just be the same as suicide if she had to do it now, but as a summer child, Freen had always liked the sun. So she scooted closer to the uncovered windows to feel the warmth on her skin without scorching her to ashes.
Eyes closed, back comfortably leaning against the couch. The house was quiet, as it usually was on Saturday afternoon. Freen enjoyed basking in the afternoon sun in the living room before her stepfather arrived home, and as an awkward variable, she knew better than to be shameless and be the elephant in the room.
Freen counted inside her head because she was tired of having a conversation about the meaning of her existence with another voice there. When she was about to reach the count of four hundred, she heard someone, her stepbrother this time by the sound of his steps. She opened her eyes before he said anything.
“My friends will hang out here in a moment.” He looked exactly like his father—tall and lean, but youthful and firm instead of lanky—which must be why it was so easy for her mother to look at him because he didn’t resemble his biological mother at all. Freen looked at him blankly, surely he didn’t mean to extend his invitation to her. “Can you please go to your room?” At least he threw the magic word, so Freen nodded and went to her room.
The house was too big, too damn big that by the time she reached her room, the energy she got from the sun had sapped out completely. She suddenly felt spent, so she hit the sack and decided to take a nap. And maybe when she woke up, the night would have fallen so she would be able to avoid another awkward dinner. Freen didn’t need to count the sheep this time before her breathing steadied and her muscles relaxed.
The joyous laughter brought her back to the land of consciousness. A television program, she thought, but a second later, Freen assumed it was more likely his stepbrother’s friends. The hour's hand told her it was barely seven in the evening, she had aroused to wake earlier than she expected. Still feeling woozy from her nap, she rose to her feet to raid the kitchen for a glass of cold water.
Like turning up the television’s volume, the voices and laughter grew louder as she opened the door. She tried to smooth her expression in case someone looked over and thought she got annoyed by their joyful meeting. She certainly was not. Fortunately, the lady luck was on her side, Phuwin and his friends didn’t register her presence despite only being a few meters away from them. This was the kind of moment where she actually liked being invisible.
Upon entering the kitchen, she was taken aback by how bright it was, like the roof was an open sky and the moon had become the kitchen light, replacing the golden hue surrounding the dark furniture. She was at a loss for words.
“Hi. I supposed you’re Phuwin’s sister?”
Freen needed a few seconds to get out of her stupor. The young woman’s presence was so loud and bright that she diminished all the darkness around her. And Freen noticed that the colors had become more vivid or it was just because the young woman was wearing a bright pink crop top. She had no idea such shade existed until now.
“I– yes, and who might you be?”
“I’m Becky,” the walking neon colors, Becky, stretched out her hand from across the dining table for a handshake and Freen walked over to receive it with hesitant steps. “Water?”
She mused, Becky sounded like she was the residence and Freen was the guest. “Yes, please.” She took a seat as she watched Becky miraculously grabbed her favorite mug and filled it with cold water from the fridge.
“Here you go, older sister.”
“Freen, my name is Freen.”
And the room got even brighter than before, Freen had no idea how it was possible.
“Okay, Freen.” Becky said, her tongue rolling as if tasting her name. “Enjoy your water. I need to go back before they start another round of Monopoly without me if you don’t mind.”
There was no hurry in her voice, no restlessness on her feet. She said it like a matter of fact, no hidden message, no need for Freen to read between the lines. She said it simply because she really didn’t wanna miss a round of Monopoly.
Freen nodded, but when Becky started to leave, she called her again, for what reasons, she was not sure. Maybe because she didn’t want the room too dim again, or maybe she was simply happy that she had someone to talk to during the weekend.
“Yes?” Becky asked, another smile formed on her lips and the light seemed to burst.
“Uhm, are you–” Freen stuttered, she actually had nothing to ask, she was really bad at small talk. So she let out the first thing that came to her mind, albeit stupid. “Are you Phuwin’s girlfriend?”
Becky was stunned for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh. Freen had never heard something so beautiful before. “Why? Because I’m the only girl he invited to come over?”
Freen nodded timidly. Actually, no, she didn’t have any assumption or reason, she just wanted to make Becky stay and by the look of it, she was doing a pretty bad job.
Becky’s eyes glimmered with mischief and mirth, then she said softly. “I’ll come here again for you, Freen. In the meantime, I suggest you open up first to Phuwin, because he is more of a coward than you.”
‘Coward’ was not a word Freen ever used to describe her brash stepbrother. But maybe like how everyone barely knew about her, she too, had no idea about everyone. Freen hesitated, Becky had said, Phuwin was more of a coward than her, while she knew that Phuwin was anything but a coward. Didn’t that mean that she was brave? Braver than Phuwin, and possibly braver than any member of her family.
Freen had never heard such a beautiful lie before.
Time was running on its own pretty quickly. Like a scoop of water slipping through the gaps between your fingers, you could never catch up to it no matter how hard you tried. But Freen intended to change that. Her wish these days as her twenty-seventh birthday approaching was to be at least two steps behind the running, ticking seconds.
Standing in front of her mirror at almost eight am, Freen skipped breakfast at home just like any other day. Like a skin she couldn’t unshed, a habit was hard to kill even during her special day. Though, it was not fully right to claim that there wasn’t something different in her today. She had chosen a white tweeds blazer instead of her black liner shirt. She also put up her hair in a ponytail, showcasing her beautiful neck for the first time in years. She couldn’t hide her face and tone down her presence with her hair styled like this. She felt exposed.
And that was good. That was what Freen was after. To make a transformation, to change for a better version of herself. To open up, according to the instruction of the girl in a bright pink crop top. Took her weeks to transform her wish into a plan and days to actually execute it.
And finally, the day had come. Her new start.
When Freen got to the garage, Phuwin was struggling with his car. Its machine cap was open and her stepbrother looked at it with an empty stare.
“I can drop you off,” Freen said.
Phuwin turned to her, a spark of relief glittering in his eyes. “But the office is on another way. You’ll be late.”
“I don’t mind breaking my clean record for my brother,” Freen said as she opened the passenger door for her stepbrother. “Hop in.”
The ride was surprisingly pleasant. It had been long since Freen had someone sitting on her passenger seat. The radio was turned off, there was only a low hum of the engines and air conditioner and the dull echo of the busy street of Bangkok. Beside her, Phuwin was drowning in his notes, brows furrowing in concentration.
“Is this it?” Freen asked as she pulled up her car in front of a tall white building with ‘Faculty of Law’ written on a placate right beside the wide glass door.
“Ah, yeah.” Phuwin gathered his notes and tucked them securely in his sling bag. Once he was free from the seatbelt, he looked at Freen and said, “Thanks, Sis.”
Freen smiled as she watched him climbed out of her car. Being the youngest child for almost all of her life made something close to pride bloom on her chest as she heard that ‘Sis’ from her stepbrother.
“Oh, and,” Phuwin said, bending his body to meet Freen’s eyes from the other side of the car. “Have a happy birthday.”
Freen was stunned. But before she could answer with a mere ‘thank you’, the door had been shut close.
“That’s, that’s a nice thing to start your day with.” She mumbled to no one in particular.
Must be a sign of a nice day ahead, echoed a voice inside her.
Her stepfather’s company was one of the most successful businesses in the furniture industry. And as someone who held a bachelor's degree in philosophy, Freen had become the oddball in the Product Development Department. But this was the best position her stepfather could think of as the owner of the company, considering Freen had a great talent for drawing.
Almost every of her colleague had moved fully to digital. Drawing with a stylus on their laptop instead of a pencil and a piece of paper. But Freen always liked the old way a stack of sketch books was the proof of it. To continue with the special trait for today, though, Freen picked up her brush instead of her pencil. An elegant low table was her work for today, she had added a meticulous detail with every stroke of her brush.
The room had given her a weird stare ever since this morning. And as lunchtime approached, it didn't look like they were planning to stop doing it. Freen wondered if it was her exclusive tardiness or her bright outfits and styled hair. Or maybe it was because she smiled at them in greetings despite being shy. One could also make a guess that it was due to her turning the office into an art room with her art supplies.
A buzz from her phone almost turned her blazer into a canvas. Freen put down her brush and took notes on her mind to bring an apron next time.
'Freen, spare me a second and come to my office please.'
It was her stepfather, formal as ever. But she considered it a progress because at least he reached out to her personally.
The building was unique in its own way. Freen always found it intimidating and scary with the amount of craving and ornament that ran on the walls, down to the floor from the ceiling. An article wrote it as tacky and overbearing, but the rest had deemed it as mysterious and artsy.
Once she was free from the halls though, it was just a plain white wall with a tiny bit of wood accent to it. And the elevator was donned in marble, making you think you were in a different place entirely.
The elevator dinged and its door opened when she reached the ninth floor, where her stepfather's office was. His secretary looked up and got up from his seat as he heard her steps.
"Good afternoon, Miss Freen. Let me help you with the door."
Freen nodded and offered a low thank you as she stepped inside her stepfather's office. The secretary shut the door politely for the sake of privacy.
"Hello, Dad."
If he was surprised, he didn't let it show. "Hello, Dear. I'm sorry I took your time."
Freen shook her head as she mirrored her stepfather's smile. "Is there something I can help you with, Dad?"
"Actually yes," he pulled out a sleek black envelope from his pocket and put it on the table. He slid it to her way before continuing, "your mom and I had been thinking a lot on what to give you as a present. Inside is an empty cheque, take it as the 'appetizer' for now. Happy birthday, Daughter."
Freen knew there was never a discussion between him and her mother, that was why he could only come up with this—because she always clammed up and he ended up knowing nothing about her. But it was the intention that counted and Freen greatly appreciated that.
"Can I ask for something else instead?"
"Sure, as long as it's still under my capability."
"Thank you, Dad." She inhaled a bit deeper before saying her wish. "I hope I can be dismissed for half a day so I can visit my father."
Concern was apparent on his face at the drop of her wish, "you sure?"
"Yes."
"I can still give you that and this, though." He said, motioning at the envelope on the word 'this'.
"What I asked for is more than enough."
He sighed, "as long as you're happy, Freen."
Freen couldn't believe it in the slightest. All sunshines and rainbows evaporated from her face immediately. The administrator shifted awkwardly, the weather was hot and sweat was pooling on her temple but she couldn't wipe it away, afraid it would snap something in the woman before her.
"What do you mean she was here?" Her voice was shaking in disbelief.
"Uh, your mother was really here first thing first in the morning." She answered, showing Freen her mother's signature on the log book. "That's why you need to come again next week to see your father."
Once she was back in her car, the seat was melting hot and the heat took her breath right away. But she was too upset to feel anything other than the lurch in her stomach and the sting in her eyes. Freen felt like throwing up her lunch and her heart while she was at it.
In eight years her father had been imprisoned, only once her mother came to visit and that was to serve him the divorce paper. So why would she suddenly come? And today too all of the 365 days one year had, robbing her chance to meet her own father on her special day. Her mother just had to choose today, when she knew damn well Freen would come here just like any of her previous birthdays.
The beats of her heart were loud on her ears, it only stopped when she was halfway home. The traffic was starting to get crowded as the clock was nearing the end of nine-to-five shift of corporate workers. The silence that used to comfort her was almost unbearable, it encouraged her mind to supply her with tormenting thoughts that made her lips quiver and her eyes water.
The dusk has started to engulf her house once she got out of her car. The front porch was without light, signaling that no one was home yet. She didn't know jow to feel about it, to feel the loneliness seeped in when no one was around and she was free to cry out and wail. 'Maturing' yet nothing was changing for good, Freen felt ashamed of herself.
She turned on the lights once she was inside and the house was immediately bathed under a warm gold hue. She then made a beeline towards the kitchen to down on a glass of iced water to help with her parched throat. But something caught her attention, there were two boxes—one was much smaller than the other—on the dining table. The smaller one was a black velvet tiny box while the bigger one was a cake contender from the look of it.
'To: summer child'
The envelope was sleek and black. Freen was familiar with the handwriting and when her mind processed who it was belonging to, her heart almost stopped in disbelief.
It was her mother's.
Her hand shook as she reached for it. But inside was not what she hoped for, though the handwriting on the envelope was undoubtedly her mother's, inside was he oldest sister's thin handwriting, written in a black ink, so contrast with the bone-white-colored paper.
'Happy birthday, Freen.
We're sorry for not spending your birthday with you this year. But we promise to make it up for you on Easter.
Although we know that now you can buy everything on your own, you can't blame us for spoiling our littlest sister once in a while. Hope you like it, little sis. We love you very much.
Kisses and hugs,
Cream & Mind
Notes from Mind:
I want to bake you the cake myself, but it'll at least take a week for the delivery time. So enjoy this one first, I'll bake you a lot once I'm home. Xoxo🖤 '
The letter was short, but Freen could feel the warmth leaking out from every stroke. She opened the bigger box first, as expected it was a cake, a matcha cake from her favorite bakery in town since she was a kid. Next, she opened the small one, her breath paused for a second. Printed on the lid was Cream's jewelry brand in New York. She brought her hand to touch the sunflower-shaped pendant gently.
Freen brought it close to her chest as her shoulders shook and her eyes shut tightly. She cried under the dimmed light of the kitchen, her tears flowing down freely and her mouth let out a heart wrenching wail.
When her world was crumbling down, she could always trust her sisters to prove that she wasn't entirely alone in this vast universe. For when everyone seemed to shun her presence, her sisters were always there to pull her into warm hugs.
She whispered, "I miss you so much…"
The knock on her door claimed the stillness of her dream, bringing the buzzing reality back on her hands. Freen opened her eyes slowly, the sky beyond her window had turned dark and the stars were strangely very vibrant that night, transforming the horizon into a slide of dark, polished dumortierite. A flight of thought crossed her mind at that very moment, maybe this is still a dream, but the knock on the door persisted, giving her no choice but to get up and check on the other side of it.
“I brought you a present.” It was her brother. “Check the back garden."
Her eyes were still bleary and her mind was still heavy with sleep, she couldn’t process anything her brother said. Yet before she could raised a question, he already turned away for the stairs. Freen looked around, the living room was deserted but the chandelier was lighted up and somehow the lit door to the back garden had been slid open, inviting the singing of a group of crickets. Like a beacon of light that called her, her legs walked toward it unknowingly.
There, she found someone. A field of daisies exploded on her white dress and her bare feet were tapping the floor in a steady rhythm. Freen knew her, or not.
“Becky?” Freen called, her voice was hoarse despite only having a nap.
Becky turned and smiled. She then walked toward Freen and brought her to the chairs, once again acting like she was the house owner just like the first time they met.
"Sit, please." Becky said before claiming her previous seat once again. "I have something for you."
Freen blinked, a small lunch box was thrusted on her lap. She couldn't deny that the bear on the pink cover was really cute. It successfully put a smile on her tired face.
"You brought me dinner?" Freen asked.
Becky laughed, head thrown back and all. "No, just a little gift."
Freen couldn't figure out what could be possibly inside this small, cute lunch box that could be considered as a gift. It was almost the size of the necklace box her sister sent to her. Under the expectant gaze of Becky, Freen finally opened and revealed what was inside.
It was a herd of rabbits, in the form of cookies. Freen was sure she almost melted at the sight.
"I heard from Phuwin that today is your birthday." Becky smiled and a thousand stars seemed to explode inside her eyes, capturing Freen's attention completely. "There was a Home Economics class on my friend's department, I kinda invited myself there to make this."
When it came to Freen, her closest ones would always got her something that was sunflower related. Or the sun, or a cat. Once her sister even got her some lion printed shirt, simply because she was a Leo.
But a rabbit, it never came into her mind before.
"I had many options for the cookie cutter, but I immediately chose this one." Maybe the wonder was too clear on her face to the point Becky felt like she needed to explain her reasoning. "You remind me of a rabbit, hiding in its burrow. Just like how I almost never see you here and Phuwin said you are always holed up in your room whenever guests are coming over."
Freen snorted because there was only truth in Becky's story.
"Happy birthday, Freen." She looked up at the soft tone Becky used just to meet with an equally soft smile on the younger's face. "I came for you this time and I hope you won't mind the upcoming ones."
Her head dropped to hide the glimmering tears on her eyes. Ever since her father stumbled upon the scandal and fell from the top of society ladder, ever since both of her sisters moved out of Thailand, no one else had ever knocked on her door just for her.
"Hey." Becky took Freen's hands into hers, spreading warmth even to the deepest corner of her heart. "You don't need to hide your tears. You cry because you've been strong for so long. Don't be ashamed of it. Everyone should be able to let it out, everyone including you."
Freen wasn't the strongest person in the whole universe, she was very much aware of it. And she didn't display a poker face every single second, in fact, she would let out her emotions on her face from time to time. But no one, no one, ever told her to cry and let the tears flow, drenching her cheeks.
Some people might have a stronger impact than others on our lives. A girl she barely knew, yet she already felt that Becky was on her way to untie the laces of loneliness on her wrists one by one.
Though Freen was well aware that Becky could only loosen it. To undo the knots, it was all up to her. After all, she was the one who chained herself to this feeling.