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ELEVEN


"WHO ARE YOU?" I repeat myself again. I didn't realize I spoke out my thoughts until I see Sebastian struggling to answer me. His mouth slants in a frown as the wrinkles on his forehead wedge deeper into the skin there. His back is slumped down again the wall and he coils his posture even more as he evades looking at me. I use to believe the less I knew about him, the better, but that wasn't getting me anywhere. I'm living in fucking circles without knowing anything.

There's complete silence for a second before Sebastian straightens himself up and sighs. "Sebastian," He says, knowing that's not the answer I want.

I let go of the paintbrush I held and bend the fingers of that hand into a tight ball and clench until a red hue layers the top of my knuckle. Sebastian gazes down at my fist then at me, his expression nonexistent as he sets his lips into a fine line without giving much reaction.

"No," I sibilate. "I want a last name."

Sebastian tweaks the collar of his shirt down and scratches the side of his neck. "Arden."

I thought knowing his last name would give me an idea if I met him before. If maybe he was once in one of my classes and I never noticed, but the name doesn't sound familiar. I release the pressure of my clenched hand and take it behind my back to hide the nails mark I left on my palm.

"Where...where are you from?"

"Everywhere," Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest and supports himself against the wall with one of his shoulders. "North Dakota."

North Dakota is way far across from Pennsylvania. How did he end up coming for me?

There's so many other things I want to ask him; so many things that aren't making no sense and somehow they're all connected to me in a way. From behind, I reach out for the naked woman painting and place it in front of me. "This," I halt, finding it difficult to find the words. "I...it's me?"

I meant to say as a statement because there's no doubt that it is me, but it came out more like a question. Sebastian looks at the painting and cracks his pointer and middle finger in thought. He looks like he's debating telling me something about it by the way he's chewing the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah," He carefully nods his head and uncrosses his arms. "You weren't suppose to see it yet, that's why it had that bed sheet covering it." Sebastian signals his head at something underneath the painting. I look below to see a white sheet pooling just under it. "You must've knocked it off."

"How do you know this much of me? How do you know me?" I ask the question I fear the most the answer of. Sebastian parts the middle of his lips, forming a tiny 'O' shape, as his Adam's apple bobs. "Tell me!"

"We've been knowing each other for a while now." Sebastian is composed, his face remaining apathetic. "I've been watching you since then."

We?

"How long?" I entreat.

"Eight years,"

"Since I was nine? You've been watching me for all those years?" My tone quivers as I stiffly grip the top of the painting. My stomach churns in disgust and uneasiness.

Sebastian nods his head and hums. "On and off."

I don't want to believe him, it's sickening to even think about it, but there's some part of me that telling me to give it a thought. Sebastian knows me in ways that not even my own parents know. It's like he grew up with me, or in this case, watched me grow.

In the back of my mind, I search for a memory of Sebastian that I could've forgotten about. I search for his face, but nothing, only the memory of feeling unsafe and watched that one summer when Avery and my other friends ditched me at Clarke Square Park late at night. I remember thinking I saw someone hiding behind the shadows of the trees as I walked home. Could that been Sebastian?

None of this makes any fucking sense.

"Why me?" I whisper. "Why not some other girl?"

The corner of Sebastian's mouth jerks slightly upward as his eyes lighten. "You were you. You came to me."

I hold his stare and clasp the canvas harder If only I could break it in half. "What?"

Sebastian dents his eyebrows and blinks rapidly in confusion and awareness, as if trying to read me. It's obvious that wasn't the response he was hoping for when he leans off the wall and takes a step closer to get a better of me. "You don't remember meeting me for the first time?"

"I only remember meeting you at the art department. That was the first time." I refuse to believe I have met him before that.

"You don't remember." Sebastian says quietly, mostly to himself.

"Why should I? It's not true, none of it is."

Sebastian moves his hand towards me, wanting to touch my hand, as his eyes search for approval in mines. There's such intensity in his look that I to look away and take a step back, taking the painting with me. "It's true, Vanessa, I remember you."

I shake my head vigorously as I attempt to hide my hands behind the stretched out canvas. "No, it never happened."

Before I can place my other hand behind the painting, Sebastian's fingers scared the top of my knuckle and linger there. I feel that pads of his fingertips softly trace the structure of the bones in my hand. "It did happen. You just haven't remembered it yet, but you will soon."

"Stop!" I shout, continuing to be in denial. Sebastian desperately claps the top of my hand and squeezes it, but at the sudden heat of his touch, I throw his hands off me and shove the painting towards his direction. The art piece lands on top of his boots with an echoed thud and I immediately start backing up, trepidation of how Sebastian will react if I ruined the painting.

His stare shadows over the painting down on his feet for a moment before I hear him
swallow and pick it up. He holds it in front of him and inspects it for any damage. I closely look at his face, but nothing changes, he remains calm with a set gaze. Sebastian's eyes look over to me from the side of painting and for a split second I see them cloud, but he turns around before I could understand the emotion they held. He sets the canvas on an easel by the door and leaves the room without another word. I didn't know I've been crying and shaking until I felt an earthquake forming below me.



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I tug at the loose threads of the camisole I'm wearing, wrapping the yarn around my pointer finger a few times until the top of it turns a glaring red color, as I stare at the door. Some days have passed since what happened in Sebastian's room and I've been avoiding him since then, until today. I need to know more.

Sebastian has been outside for awhile now and I have been sitting in the living room since then, vying for something to do. There's so many thoughts scraping around in my head that's it's suffocating. I want to scream it all out but I can't; it feels like I have no control over myself anymore.

I wrap the thread harder until it snaps off my top and push myself up. I walk slowly towards the door as my finger throbs, and stand there for a minute before I push it open and walk out.

Sebastian sits at the edge of the porch with a bucket of water and a cup filled with dirty paintbrushes. From behind, I watch him dip all the brushes into the bucket and swirl them around. He takes a brush out of the water and dries the bristles of it with the edging of his t-shirt, and places it beside him. His whole cleaning process is rough and careless.

The wood creaks underneath the weight of my step and Sebastian straightens up, pushing the bucket aside so he can place his hand there for support. He turns around and I see that the front strands of his hair are coated with streaks of color, most likely from the can of paint that spattered in his room. I didn't notice this before, but his clothes and the side of his neck and cheek are also covered with faint marks of paint.

Feeling his stare, I kneel down across from him and fold my legs beneath my bottom. I bring both hands to my face and tuck my sticky hair behind my ears. From under my eyelashes, I take a peek at Sebastian and see him still staring attentively at me, studying my every movement for something. I look up at sky and breathily sigh, letting my hands fall onto my lap.

"Don't you have family looking for you?" I build up the courage to finally ask.

I level look to Sebastian as his eyes turn to slits and his chin dents inward, enhancing a frown. "No, it's only me."

"What about your parents?" I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it, but I don't give a shit what he wants.

"They're gone, I assume."

"You assume?" Sebastian looks away and stares out onto the ocean.

"Yeah," He draws his shoulders up enough to look too tense around his neck. "I haven't heard from my mom since I was young," Sebastian's tone wavers in anger as he pauses. "And my dad, never knew him.

I lean in a little closer to him. "What happened to your mom?"

Sebastian glances back at me and looks at me for a long time, wanting to understand why suddenly I'm asking about him. I didn't know why either. "My mom was never around growing up," He shakes his head in amusement like if he found it risible. "I spent most of my time looking after myself."

He stops talking and waits for a reaction from me, when he sees nothing from my part he continues. "She then started to disappear for days once I got a bit older. She probably got caught up in the middle of some shit." The color in his eyes fervents and his tongue is sharp. "Eventually, someone contacted Child Services and they took me away and placed me in a foster home. That was the last time I ever knew about her. She never tried looking for me."

"What happened to you after that?" I wanted to know just a little more. It sounds weird to hear Sebastian talk so much. I'm use to him only saying a couple of vague sentences at a time or arguing. I never thought there was more to him.

"They weren't any better than her. After a few months there, I managed to run away. I spent a couple days homeless until I met this guy who owned a liquor store. He let me crash in his store up to the time we both left to Spain. I thought I could start over some place else, but once we made it to the city, he got me messed up in some fucked up shit."

I turn away, not wanting to hear anything about him or his life anymore. The guilt of feeling slightly bad for him torments me. Sebastian deserves the hell he got for what he did to both my parents and I, but there's this part of me that feels sad for the younger version of him. I shouldn't. For all I know he could be lying just to make me pity him, but the way he looks and reacts to what he's saying is like he actually experienced it. We've both were taken from the only life we knew and forced into living a different one.

I look back at him, piercing my eyes into his. "In a way they took you too." I suddenly say. "They had taken you, just as you have taken me."

Sebastian is still, like he has forgotten how to breathe. There's this look on him that I can't describe, but it gives me satisfaction that I have a little power over him. He wasn't expecting that response. He gulps and looks away, staring back at the endless ocean.

"No," He says quietly. "I didn't take you. I saved you."



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