I woke up the next morning my mother was flitting around in my room with different cleaning utensils, I groaned. The sun was drifting through the blinds with a happy facade. I looked down at the floor. It had been vacuumed. I ran my hand through my hair, it was greasy, and felt slimy. I grimaced and looked at my hand, expecting to see alien goo dripping from my fingertips. Nothing oozed, which comforted me, slightly. Yesterday felt like a dream... It was a dream right? My mother hardly noticed my waking. I stood up, and my head spun. I almost fell back on the bed, but I took a step forward, and before I could catch myself with my face, another step followed. I continued on to the shower. I was on autopilot now. Feeling the water run over my body, down my back felt good. I scrubbed the sickness out of my hair, watching yesterday run down the drain was like watching a black hole open up, I was just waiting to get sucked into the emotion and pain I remembered from the day before. I got out of the shower trying not to think about... her.
I got dressed, pulling a gray tee shirt over my shoulders and dark jeans over my legs. I went down the stairs pacing myself, I was still breathless. My mother continued to jump from task to task, I'm not quite sure what she was doing or what her mind was thinking. She had a glassy look on her face. I felt dead. I was starving, I'm sure, but I don't feel like eating. I made a bowl of bland oatmeal, I don't want flavor. I sat at the breakfast bar hunched over my bowl. The mother figure walked in with a dirty wash cloth and began scrubbing the clean stove. I pursed my lips, and looked back down at my bowl. The oatmeal seemed to get even more repulsive as it sat there taunting me. I got up suddenly, I didn't know where I was going, my feet just kept walking, my arms reached out and grabbed a coat off the rack. It was nippy outside, rebelling against the sunny warm sensation the brightness insisted.
I found myself sprinting, out of breath. I was going to collapse on the ground. I could feel the fatigue in my legs, but I kept pushing; wherever I was going I needed to be there, now. I stopped in front of a bright house, it matched the sunny day, it looked pretty. All of the curtains were white, except for one room. Its curtains were closed, a sign sat in the window reading, "All who enter will be shot." I chuckled. Whose house is this? I walked up to the door, and rang the doorbell. A light face appeared in the door frame, it was Emily's mother. She smiled. Then killed the small look of relief, she grabbed my hand looking up at my face to make sure the contact was allowable. Then drug me up the stairs. I knew where we were going. I was grateful; this woman knew what was up.
She opened the door, her room was messy but in an organized way. I scanned the room for life. No one was in there. I shot confused glance at Em's mother. She sighed and walked over to the bed that was almost in tatters. One bed spread lay on the floor, a sheet and blanket lay across a lump in the mattress. She put her hand on a higher lump, near the pillow, Emily's shoulder. A sob was muffled by the pillow she was breathing into. My knees buckled. I fell to the floor next to her bed. On my knees I peeled the blankets back. Her glossy hair was all fuzzed around her face, her eyes almost free of her eyeliner; I almost lost a tear looking at her shattered face. Her lip trembled.
"Shh," I said quietly, trying to be soothing. Her voice sounded broken, dead. I moved my thumb along her cheek bone, the pale skin there, soft as ever before, was tear stained.
"Go die..." her voice echoed through my mind. I dropped my hand. It landed on the bed. A tear ran from her gray eye, to her trembling chin. I rolled back off my knees sitting on my feet. A sob escaped her mouth. Does she know what she's doing? What she's done?
"Em, Emily." I sighed, feeling the breath I felt like I had locked up in my chest brush against my lips.
"I'm sorry..." She cried. Tears formed in my eyes, I won't let them escape. I looked down, her hand was trying to inch closer to mine. She was afraid to set me off. I was so confused, I wanted to grab her hand and pull her close; I never wanted to let her go. But I need to get out of this room, out of this house. I need to leave.
"Please," she paused. "Don't leave me" another tear stole from her eye. I broke down, as fast as I could sprint, I sat on the bed and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close. We sat there crying into each other's necks or on the others shoulder. I was only vaguely aware of her mother sitting there watching us feel awful with each other. I couldn't get over that fact it was her, I got to hold her, comfort her.
"Please forgive me...?" she begged. I pulled my head way from her shoulder, only to look into her eyes.
"I forgive you, I started everything." I kept on, "You were only trying to help."
"but I shouldn't have screamed at you..." She argued.
"You only countered because I upset you, you were strung high, you were worried, and wanted to be there." I paused, "I shouldn't have pushed you away. I'm sorry." She let out a sob. Her mother was sitting in the corner of the room looking through books, I leaned forward and kissed Emily on her lips.
My heart exploded, it was more than a kiss, it was a revelation, the beginning of everything. A couple kisses later her mother cleared her throat. The way we were curled around each other wasn't appropriate for her mother to be in the same room with us. She kissed me again rebelling what her mother had said was not right for the moment. I grabbed her shoulders. Falling out of the rush of her skin and her face, or just the fact she was so close, and noticing she hadn't taken a shower like I had, or that her teeth were un-brushed. I opened my eyes, and she was staring at my face. I looked into her gray eyes hinted with the purple flakes, accented by the light coming through the window her mother had just opened.
My hands slid to her hips. Another clear throat, and I lied down on the bed as she climbed off my waist line, probably a position her mother didn't really want to see. I felt a little embarrassed, and I smiled she looked down at me, she stood next to the bed. She was beautiful, even with her hair a mess, no makeup, her clothes all ratty. She looked around the room. I sat up, I don't want to lie in her bed all day, and look creepy to her mother.
"I um..." she paused, embarrassed, "I have to take a shower. So... Um, you can wait down stairs? If you want." she said sheepishly, I have never heard her say anything like she was scared.
"That's fine." I said, "Do you mind, Mrs. Rice?" I asked, hoping politeness would make up for my obvious longing for Emily to be closer a few minutes ago.
She sighed, "Alright." Emily leaned down and kissed me on the lips, just a peck, then over to her mother for a kiss on the cheek, she went over to the door, grabbed the handle, and looked back at her mother then at me, then walk down into the hall, and into the bathroom.
"You have more to do now, boy." Mrs. Rice said to me, warning. She stood up and walked over to the door, I stood up and followed behind. At the bottom of the stairs her mother offered me a drink, I declined and sat down on the pretty little couch she had in the living room. We sat in silence. As she came out of the bathroom to her room, I heard a blow dryer sound.
She walked down the stairs. I turned in my seat, and saw her beautiful face, her perfect eyeliner, perky cheeks, and her shiny hair.
"You kids go have fun," Mrs. Rice said. I stood up and went over to Emily. She blushed, slightly.
"Bye, Mom!" she called over her shoulder, I laughed. It felt good to be happy.