Accusations

     Episode 4

The dream again. As usual, it started with a mirror. And the unbearable cold.

There was the crying voice too, calling out to him from the cold outside, asking him to save her from the freezing cold.

He looked into the mirror, and strangely, the voice seemed to come directly from it, and when he glanced in, he saw his reflection which strangely began to change into a girl...

"Tony! Tony? Wake up, you are breathing hard again!"  

"Nooo!!" Tony screamed out of sleep as he jerked up from bed, bumping heads with his best friend.

"Ouch." Timmy grumbled as he rolled off the bed. "Are you always gonna wake up that way? What's wrong really?" 

Panting slightly with sweat greased across his forehead, Tony placed his hand over his chest, trying to stop it from exploding.  "I saw...I saw it again. I was changing into a girl. Am I a girl, Timmy?"

Timmy stared at his friend for a while as though he were crazy, and burst out laughing. "What are you saying? A girl? Have you seen your hairy chest, dude?"

Tony frowned slightly and nodded. "Yeah, right? But why do I keep seeing her through me in the mirror in my dream? She has my face, but it isn't me. 

Oh no. What stupid dream is this? You don't put drugs in my drink, do you?" 

Timmy scoffed and stood up from the floor, turned towards the window and parted the curtains.

 Sunlight flooded the room, the voices of the singing birds perching on the hibiscus tree near the window became louder.

"When are you going back home, dude? At least, go get some of your stuffs. You've out used mine." 

Tony sighed and sat up. "I don't think I want to face my mom right now, we are gonna just end up fighting again."

Timmy raised an eyebrow. "My mother told me she's been asking of you. She's worried, Tony. Just go home today and see her."

"Stop it. You are beginning to sound like Ryan." Tony warned as he walked towards the door, then turned back to look at his friend. "Speaking of girls, how's Lia Marie doing, huh?" 

Grabbing a carelessly thrown jacket by the drawer, Timmy threw it across the room towards Tony. "You are a moron for saying that! You know I don't like girls with glasses."

Chuckling, Tony raced out of the room while Timmy ran after him. 

"She looks so cute though. With the glasses." Tony mocked and started to laugh again as he got downstairs. He stopped in his track at the sight he beheld in the living room.

It was his mother, drenched in tears. She stood up from where she sat at the sight of her son. "Tony. My love please..."

Tony scoffed, and shot a look of betrayal towards his best friend. "What are you doing here, Valentine?"

Valentine clamped her hands together in front of her, obviously pleading. She would have gone down on her knees, but she stopped herself, reminding her guts that this small man in front of her was her son. 

"Come back home with me, my love. You know you are my life. My best friend. Please."

Tony's eyes moistened, but he blinked back the tears immediately before they would betray his strong–man–attitude. "Which home exactly am I coming to? The one you ruined?"

Valentine's lips quivered as she tried defending herself, but she found herself taking the blame, and asking for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Tony. But there are things I need you to understand. You need to come home with me so I can clear things up."

"Go with her for Christ sake, dude. I'm sure you don't like that your mom is crying right now."

"And you shut the fuck up, traitor." 

"My goodness. Stop using such dirty languages!" Valentine couldn't help herself from scolding him.

"Really? You have the nerves to scold me right now?"  Tony replied.

Valentine sighed deeply and shook her head. "I'm sorry. Will you come home with me now? I need you right now." 

"Fine. Will go get my stuff."

"What stuff, dude? You only brought a headphone and a football." Timmy called after Tony who already dashed out of sight. 

Valentine smiled at Timmy. It was a smile full of gratitude. "Thank you dear." She mouthed.

      *************

          ***NEW YORK***

The woman in her early fifties was sitting down on a rocking chair this time around just outside the floor veranda. She had a glass of tequila in one hand, and a brown thick smoking pipe in another hand. 

Suddenly, the pipe was taking away from her from behind and she quickly turned to see who it was. Of course, it was the young man. Her son. 

He would be the only one who would dare do that to her.

"I told you to stop smoking, didn't I?" The young man asked, putting out the smoke.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not ready to quit? Huh, you spoilt spot?" 

"And Ryan? Did you really ask the bastard to come?" The young man changed the subject automatically.

The mother scoffed and nodded. "He should be here any time from now because I know he must have taken his private jet."

"I don't want to see that bastard. Why do you want him to come, though...?"

They were still talking when a car drove into the large beautiful compound smoothly. The old lady smiled and pointed. "Talk of the devil. He's here. I'm guessing he's already breaking up with that slimy country girl."

From the car came down a downcast looking Ryan. Without bothering to lock up his car, he started towards his step family.

Ryan got in front of his step mother, and without saying a word of greeting to them, nor spare his step brother a glance, he stared straight at his stepmother with bloodshot eyes.

"Can you still deny it right now! Can you still deny that you didn't kill my father now that I'm in front of you!!" He roared into her face. 

Marcela McCartney stood up slowly from where she sat, a dangerous smile on her face. "You are here, son."

"Don't 'son' me, Marcela. I'm not your son! What did you do to my father?" Ryan asked, getting closer to her. 

Ray put a hand against his chest, stopping him from getting closer to his mother. "You have to stop right there." 

Ryan stared down at the hand blocking his way before glancing at his step brother. "Take your hand off me, bastard."

Ray laughed, rubbed a hand on his beard. "Who, me? Bastard? As far as I can remember, you are the bastard here." 

Marcela stepped in. "Enough of that, Ray. We have to understand what Ryan is going through. He just got separated from his cheating wife." 

Ryan was cut off guard. He looked at his stepmother, surprised that she knew about his divorce. "Who told you that?"

Marcela shrugged, bent and retrieved her glass cup. "I have my ways of knowing the latest news, my dear. So, what happened to you lovebirds? I always told you back then that she was nothing but a freeloader." 

Ryan gritted his teeth, and it took him all the self control in his body not to hurl her out of his sight. "Get out of my way."

"This is my house, bastard." Ray replied.

Ryan stepped back, turned to look at Marcela. "I don't have plans of staying in this hellhole either. I have just one question for you, Marcela. What did you do to my father?" 

Marcela sighed with an innocent look on her face. "I don't know what you are talking about, son. I know you are affected with what happened to you, but I hope you get over it soon." 

Ryan shook his head in disgust, turned and was out of the house like the wind. 

When he was sure Ryan was gone, Ray turned and stared at his mother for a long time. 

"What's that look for?" Marcela asked.

Ryan nodded towards the exit Ryan took. "What was he talking about? He looked pretty serious just now. What's happening?"

Marcela shrugged again. "Just like I said, he's only affected by what's going on with him. Don't you like what's happening? You will soon have Valentine." 

Ray looked at his mother suspiciously from the corner of his eyes. "You never liked Valentine, mom. Why do you support my obsession over her?" 

Marcela smiled and patted his shoulder. "That's because it's going to destroy him, Ray. Think. 

"What we need is for him to come crawling back to us. Valentine's absence in his life is definitely going to shatter him." Marcela smiled to herself and slowly drank from her cup.