Santi: The Devil's Pioneer

Chapter 60 - How the Change Started

I tried not to be irritated that Emman never truly talked to me as he did with Santi or even the way he used to talk to me before Santi. He never sought my viewpoint or inquired about my thoughts on particular situations or chances. He organized a lot of football games, and I was rarely invited, and even when I was, I felt like an outsider looking in.

Whenever I tried to make a proposal, he would disregard me or have a completely different viewpoint than I did. I was fed up with him and his unpleasant demeanor.

I even had a lot of spare time on my hands, which I couldn't understand because everyone else seemed to be incredibly busy.

When I went to the Chief's office to alert him about a project or product, I found him inundated with work and his table crowded with heaps upon mounds of books, folders, and other materials, the riddle was quickly explained. His nose was buried in a file, and he would periodically pause to scribble notes with one hand.

"Mr. Grumpy called, he seemed interested in the new development project of yours for Science class and wants to schedule a meeting with you soon," I informed him.

"Okay, I'll take care of it," He said while wiping himself. "You may go."

I didn't move from my place, urging him to look at me.

"What do you need?" He asked me, in his usual rude tone which pushed me over the edge, and suddenly the conversation took a very different turn.

"I need you to tell me why there isn't anything else for me to do other than taking your messages and passing messages to your friends, and can I ask why you're trying to take on all the work alone." I was offended and I wasn't trying to keep it a secret.

"Because I can't slow myself down by repairing other people's faults, your mistake," he stipulated angrily, returning to his changing clothes as if the conversation had ended. "You don't know how some things operate around here, Em, so just stay with what you're doing. You can't change, regardless."

This conversation was far from over, "If I continue with what I have, I'm never gonna find out how things work around here, excuse me if I'm trying to be of help and learn, and I'm sure you're not slowing yourself down with this amazing plan of yours."

He regarded me with a gaze so grim I thought I crossed a line by talking back at him in a sarcastic voice. Instead of yelling at me, he surprised me by pointing at a file on his desk.

"You really want to make it up to me? Meet Grumpy. Take these files. You know my project well enough. Santi must have discussed it with you a couple of times right? Before you drove her away?"

I picked up the file and walked out, ignoring his insults and j**s directed at me. I was still a little unsure as to what just happened in there.

Kiki and I worked extra time, trying to come up with new ideas and making drafts for the work that I was newly assigned by my twin brother himself, the deadline loomed far too close and things weren't working out so well, but I couldn't complain because literally asked for it. Gods help me now.

At least Kiki was kind enough to offer me his help.

The flat was pushed off, as a result, scraping over an old embedded stake in the process. I felt myself gently slipping to sleep for a few minutes. I relished every moment of the situation's romanticism. Then something very unsettling happened. The flat started to flood. It was vital for me to scramble to my feet in a matter of seconds.

Kiki, who was seated near to Emily's crying, heard her let out a single gasping tiny scream that no one else heard; she was white to the lips, but she kept her composure. There was only one opportunity, and it was a little one.

"Emily!" He called out and she jolted awake.

"I was dreadfully scared shitless," she told Karen and the girls the next day, "and it seemed like decades at least while the floor was drifting down to the tunnel and the water continuing to rise in it every moment. I began to pray, girls, most sincerely, but I didn't shut my eyes to beg, because I knew the only way God might save me was to let the flat slide close enough to one of the structure loads for me to climb upon it. You know, the stacks are just dead trees trunks and they're covered with knots and ancient branch stubs. It was proper to pray, but I also had to do my bit by keeping an eye on things, and I was fully aware of this. Again and again and again, I prayed, 'Sweet Jesus, please take the apartment close to a pile and I'll do the rest.'

"What bullshit," Emman mutters under his breath, hearing the new act Emily portrayed to try and be liked by her peers.