Chapter 6 #3
Before I even consider cleaning up flecks of food from the living room, I march over to the window.
I yanked back the curtains to peer back down in the spot I last saw someone, but there was no one.
The sidewalk is void of bodies, nothing out of the ordinary to see.
No menacing characters, just garbage cans on the street.
In that moment, an older man dottles by with a leash in hand.
An elated golden retriever trots in front of him, probably pleased as punch to get his master out of bed at such an hour.
I step back, pulling the curtains closed and bend down to pick up my phone, feeling like I’m the butt of someone else's joke.
I feverishly write a response to the “unknown” number.
Cindel: Who is this? Are you the creepy stalker who gave me the earbud?
I hold my breath, awaiting a reply. The phone shakes slightly in my hand when dots appear and dance on the screen. It vibrates within my grasp, just as the next message pops up.
Unknown: Did you know that the band playing on the stage during the episode “Mr. he started pulling away.
Half the time he seemed to have dumb excuses as to why he couldn’t see me, but when we were together, it was good.
Not magical, but better than a lot of relationships.
I’d like nothing more right now than to be in the crook of his thick, motor oil smelling, tattooed arms. My eyes burn and my pillow is wet.
I’m tired. Once the sun’s morning rays relentlessly pierce through the edges of my blinds, I feel a little safer knowing it’s daylight, but I can’t fight the exhaustion any longer.
The sandman creeps in, and I soon find myself slipping within my recurring nightmare.
Spring was here. The scent of blooming cherry blossoms lingered just outside our playroom window.
I was spread out onto the floor with crayons and drawing paper, as I created various designs of gowns and dresses.
I liked to create outfits that princesses would wear, just like in the movies.
Sunlight spilled across the wooden floor, warming the slats beneath me.
I felt like the heroine of a fairy tale, bathed in my own magical glow.
My brother commonly played games on the small TV in front of the couch.
Connected only by a wire, he could lead four green turtles through the city streets, battling ninjas, and devouring pizza along the way.
We could be in that room for hours, me on the floor creating and him pleasantly engulfed in his game.
It was wordless companionship, but I knew we still enjoyed having each other there.
Today, however, I designed whimsical attire alone.
Theo wasn’t allowed to play his usual console games in the rec room since he got into a fight at school.
Donovan Polinsky was picking on a girl in their class, all because she wore pigtails.
During lunch, Donovan wouldn’t stop pulling the girl’s hair.
That is, until Theo stepped in. Theo, like a knight in shining armor, went straight up to Donovan and poured a carton of milk down the back of his shirt.
Donovan swung at my brother. Playing all those video games must have made Theo quick, because he dodged the hit, causing Donovan to stumble forward, catching his chin on the lunch table.
Donovan chipped a tooth, and Theo was briefly suspended.
Mom and Dad were upset he got in trouble, but I heard Dad also saying he was proud of him for doing the right thing.
Theo had a lot of chores that week, including polishing the fancy silverware, dusting the bookshelves, and scrubbing the baseboards on both floors of the house.
Outside, tiny chirps indicated baby birds were hungry from the trees below. I, too, was hungry for lunch, but I needed to decide which shade of blue would best suit the massive tulle gown.
Little specks of dust stole my attention, as they danced between the opened window and my drawing, creating an unexpected performance.
I blew little puffs of air, watching the once graceful spots, spin and twirl with velocity.
The star of the show, a large fleck of gray rocking from side to side, just outside my little rectangle of sunshine.
Pushing my art to the side, I watch in amazement as the dust piece slowly made its way toward the window, before being caught by a breeze and rushing outside.
It was suddenly so bright. I felt as if all the air was sucked from my lungs, like that one time I fell backward off a swing.
My throat felt dry, unable to form words while I remained still, my body unable to move.
The worst part was the sound. It was both the loudest and the quietest thing I had ever heard, all at once.
The ringing was unbearable, no matter how much I tried to cover my wet ears, the sound wouldn’t relent.
Smoke filled my vision. As it cleared near the floor, pairs of feet came rushing toward me.
I lay there watching the situation unfold, my parents’ mouths moved, but I was unable to hear anything but ear-splitting bells.
A slew of dust flecks filled the room now, but none of them danced. Not quite like they did before.