The tar road was littered with leaves as the morning mist enveloped the place with fog. Monkeys with red skin and white hair jumped around on the lush green trees. They groomed each other, and the females fed their babies.
Soon, the peace of the misty road was broken by the sound of tires rolling over, crushing the leaves, the light of the headlights piercing the mist like two suns peeking through clouds. The monkeys observed the green car ride past, hoping perhaps for the people within to come out, maybe give them something to eat—but they were disappointed this time.
Inside the car, Michael looked outside, observing the forest and the landscape run by them as music played in his headphones. The headphones were unique in that they didn't have a headband to connect the two speakers and instead had two clips to attach to the ears.
He closed his eyes, taking in the music as he twirled his jet-black hair with his thin fingers habitually. He had a look of satisfaction, as if this peace was something that he had longed for. However, this peace was soon shattered by a loud voice.
He looked next to him at the little girl who was opening her mouth as if screaming. She was wearing a red dress matching her red hair. In the front seat, a man with similar red hair was smiling, trying his best to pacify the situation as the woman with brown hair and baby-blue eyes next to him was speaking authoritatively to the girl.
The woman was Vanessa Hawthorn, a member of the Hawthorn family. She married Michael's father after meeting him in college in Bangalore. She went to live with him in his hometown of Kerala. They were decently happy until Michael's father died of pancreatic cancer.
It took a long while for them to heal. His mother started working more to support him, so she began going on business trips—until one long trip to the UK. She came back with a boyfriend, Leo. She took Michael and went to live in the UK and even had another baby: Lily, Michael's half-sister.
His mom and half-sister continued arguing, something about a toy being missing or something. It didn't matter because in this entire discussion, Michael was completely invisible. He wasn't surprised. Any animosity he felt was enclosed by the stone bust which was his face—emotionless, looking upon the world with apathy, as if from a display case.
Which would be the perfect way to describe it. Michael, in his time in Kerala, had developed an accent. When he spoke English, he spoke way too fast, and the accent made it hard to understand. Thus, he was picked on until he practically became mute.
And in his home, his mom was more focused on her life with her new husband and child, so Michael was thrust into his life of solitude. He was like a ruined kingdom—something to be remembered but never acknowledged. Michael didn't know when his kingdom was destroyed and forgotten. Maybe it was slow, or so sudden it was impossible to cope?
Maybe it was like Rome. The death of a major figure had signified both their declines. But that didn't matter now. The point was, from the ashes of the broken kingdom—his broken kingdom—a new one had prospered and grown. Now, he no longer belonged.
Michael turned up the volume on his headset, drowning out the sound for the rest of the trip until the car stopped. At this moment, Michael turned the music off. Vanessa turned back. She was wearing a white shirt with long sleeves and a black high-rise skirt with golden buttons around the belly.
"'Kay kids, get out and wait till me and Leo take out the luggage," Vanessa turned and spoke to Michael, who had already taken off his headphones. "Michael, take care of your sister."
"Half-sister," Michael corrected in his heart, concealing any frustration he felt as he nodded.
"'Kay, Mom."
Leo spoke in a charismatic tone, "Behave yourself, Lily, 'kay? Daddy will buy you a new one."
Lily wiped away her tears, speaking, "Promise?"
Leo smiled reassuringly. "Promise."
As Leo and Vanessa started to unload their luggage, Lily stood silently next to Michael. She looked up at him. He was tall for a 16-year-old, with a thin and lean physique, messy black hair, and cold blue eyes, with pale skin—even paler than Lily, who had the blood of an Englishman in her veins.
Michael looked down, as Lily glared back silently and looked away. Michael never understood her. He had always managed to conceal his true feelings with others—but not with Lily. She always saw past the mask, sensing his indignation. It concerned him but also gave him the image of her being a psychiatrist in the future.
As Vanessa and Leo finished unpacking, they gestured to the kids to follow as they headed to the cable carts which led to the estate. To enter the estate, one had to go by cable cart. One of the greatest mysteries of the Hawthorn family was how the estate was built in the first place.
As they approached, Vanessa looked back, stopped, and approached Michael, pushing his hair up as she spoke sternly. "How many times have I told you—I don't like it when your hair covers your forehead. Tsk. We'll need to have it cut soon."
Michael wanted to sigh in exasperation. He hated cutting his hair. But it didn't matter if he said it or not. He hated the fact that his mother only noticed him when she saw a fault with him.
Michael silently endured it as they continued to trek onward toward the cable carts. As they approached, however, they saw another group of people carrying bags.
Vanessa had a bright smile. "SIS!!" Aunt Clarice, a woman in her late thirties, wearing a red turtleneck without sleeves and blue jeans, turned. Her blonde hair was tied in a low-hanging bun, with baby-blue eyes—the signature of the Hawthorn family.
"Aahah! How's my lil' sis?!" Aunt Clarice extended her hand, pulling Vanessa into a tight hug. She broke the hug before giving Leo a quick nod, then turned back to Vanessa. The quickness of the interaction made Leo massage the back of his head and chuckle a little.
"We must discuss everything that's happened over some good chai, shouldn't we?" Having grown up in India all their lives, the Hawthorns were filled with chai addicts.
"Chai sounds good," Clarice's husband Rohit spoke, raising his aviator glasses. He had a clean face, with neatly combed black hair and deep brown eyes. He was shorter than most—even shorter than Clarice by a head, and shorter even than Michael by a few centimeters.
His words caused everyone to nod in satisfaction. This atmosphere was broken by a loud and cheerful voice.
"Aunt Clarice! Aunt Clarice!" Lily hopped up and down near Clarice's leg, as Vanessa, Leo, and Rohit all sighed, knowing what was to come.
Clarice bent down, grabbing Lily by the cheeks with a dangerous gleam in her eyes before squishing them with joy. "Oh my dear niece, I'm so happy to see you!!!" Clarice continued to squish as she spoke about the gifts she had brought for her—which was why Lily put up with such treatment.
As Michael watched, a voice interrupted. "Hey Michael." The voice was soft and kind, radiating a sort of warmth. Michael's lips couldn't help but curl as he turned, seeing William. He was wearing a white shirt with black trousers, which matched his neat blonde hair and blue eyes.
William was Rohit and Clarice's son—and frankly, the only person who seemed to acknowledge the ruined kingdom which was Michael. His presence even seemed to bring light onto him for others.
Rohit's eyes widened. "Jesus! You got tall." Uncle Rohit approached, sizing him up, realizing that he himself was shorter, before biting his lips in frustration.
"Well, he certainly has grown, hasn't he?" Clarice spoke, putting her hand on her hips as she observed him. Vanessa sighed.
"Yes, he has. But all he does is stay in his room and play games all day. He doesn't eat much, so he isn't fat—that's fine. But I really did hope he would put some meat on those bones of his."
Vanessa's tone carried a usual hint of hopelessness, which hurt Michael far more than she could've imagined. It was only because he was used to it that he could brush it off.
"Aahaha, don't be so harsh, aunty. People in the world are multifaceted. From what I've seen, Michael excels at studies more than I do, doesn't he?"
Leo sighed ruefully. "Well, that is true. You really are mature for your age, William. It's a pity—it seems I don't get the uncle's privilege of spoiling my nephews."
Clarice closed her eyes, speaking in a fast tone. "He could use some of that for his studies." At her words, William's head went down in pity, as his father Rohit comforted him. "Work hard, work hard." This scene elicited a chuckle from everyone, as they all turned to board the cable cart and head to the hawthorn family estate.