The Man In The Red Mask

 

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Prologue

 After all that hard school work it was finally summer break. We had all been waiting for that day; the last week of May. I was finally going to Hawaii to visit my father. He left two summers saying that he had an important job to take care of. He panicked, so we let him go. After we said our goodbyes, we went home.

 

My mother was in a state of depression at this point since my father hardly talks to her. It was a hard time in both of our lives, but it was all going to be alright since we would see him soon…

 

OR SO I THOUGHT

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Chapter 1: My Friend

My friend, Hugo, was coming over soon to cheer me up as always before I left. He usually brought snacks and other typical games. I told him about the situation with my dad. I’m pretty sure he was the only one that understood me. Even though he didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about other people’s emotions.

 

Hugo: Hey Rafael, how’s your mom doing?

 

Me: I think she’s down hearted.

 

Hugo: At least she has you, am I right?

 

Me: No, I barely do anything about it.

 

Hugo: I’m sure she appreciates you as much as I do.

 

Hugo pulled out two boxes of pocky (chocolate biscuit snack) from his old backpack. I was wondering if he was going to eat the whole thing by himself.

 

Hugo: You want some?

 

Me: Yeah, sure!!

 

Before I could grab one stick of pocky he takes the box of pocky and throws it at me! He tried to help me clean up the mess, but It was a little too late; they were already in my mouth. I don’t even know how we became friends but we just are. We continued to play games and after watching Hugo rage for the hundredth time he left. As I closed the door behind him, I headed towards my room and stopped a bit to go in my mom's room. As I was leaving, I found a red rose next to my mother’s purse. Surely Hugo didn’t leave it there because he was in my room the whole time. I brushed it off and went to sleep. But it still troubled me a little.  I'll ask her tomorrow on the plane.  

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Chapter 2: Boarding The Plane

  It was finally the day. We were now going to Hawaii to finally visit my father. My mother was nervous but excitement was in her eyes. When we got to the Airport, it seemed there was a little problem. There was a huge commotion. But it was way upfront so we couldn't see the situation. My mom was so anxious and uptight, it frightened me. She probably thought it was a sign that going to see dad was a bad idea. Later on, we got to the check-in point and when they were examining and inspecting us, I took the advantage and asked what the big commotion was about.

 

Rafael: “Ma’am, please what was going on about 30 minutes                     ago?”

 

Security: “Oh, you mean the problem upfront?

 

Rafael: “Yes.”

 

Security: “Well, the man was apparently stabbing himself everywhere. It was brutal and severe.” She sighed

 

Rafael: “Wow, I didn't think the situation was that intense!!” I was a little startled.

 

Security: "Yeah, me neither."

 

“Done, Next!” She yelled, gesturing for the next passenger to come up.

 

 

     As we finished, I wanted to explain the circumstance to my mom. But I was worried she was going to think deeper than expected and read more meaning to the situation so I kept my mouth shut and hoped she had ignored it.

     It was finally time to board the plane. The pilot greeted every on the plane. The 5 hours trip will be over soon. I WILL BE SEEING MY DAD SOON.

     After reaching Oahu in Hawaii, my aunt came to get us at the airport. She had a huge eye patch over her left eye and her right has a huge clawed mark under it. Mistakenly, I yelled and asked:

 

“Aunty, what happened!?"

 

“It’s a long story dear. One that your mother also has to hear about.”

 

“Also, where is Dad?”

 

“As I said, it’s a long story.” She replied.

 

     It sounded like every single word she said that day was distant but also had a close and familiar meaning. It’s hard to explain.

I wonder what happened. She sounded serious. More serious than normal(which I thought was impossible).

 

 

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