Followed by the Silhouette

Chapter# 9

"Thanks for the basket, Lydia", I said frenzily, "How come you remember I like 'em?".

"What basket?", Lydia asked in confusion.

"Toblerone... The basket... My birthday", I tried to explain pathetically.

"You're psychobabbling again", she sighed, " You know sometimes I feel for ya. Was it only the grim upbringing?".

I shot her a just-don't-go-there look.

"Gee. And sorry I couldn't make it for your birthday. I got busy with Tyler and his dudes. They arranged a bonfire. So... I hope you didn't mind and to be honest, I don't like your prude Aunt".

"No, I didn't mind", I lied even though I was hating her a lot for saying that.

"Did you hear from Steve?"

"No, I don't know anything", I shrugged, trying hard not to freak when his name came up.

"Well, I think that freak must've left for Sheffield. Remember he always talked about changing highschool?"

"Yeah, he talked about it all the time".

"Well, look Jason has been giving quite a shine at you, lately", she said pointing at him.

"So?", I promted.

'So go and accept his love without thinking about that traitor, you dumb ass!", she pushed me at him.

I turned and narrowed my eyes at her. She gave me a thumbs up and mouthed "Go!".

He approached me, smiling awkwardly. We've always been fighting, me, Jason and Tyler and this shine thing is totally weird as I take it.

"Hey, Lij! Wanna hang out?", he asked.

"Sure", I shrugged. I don't know why am I even agreeing.

Once out the campus, I lit a joint and inhaled, deep and long.

"Uh...so, how are you and Steve getting on?"

"We broke up and you know that. The reason we're talking", I said monotonously.

"I like you. Can we...".

"No!". I knew he'd say that. I knew things would go this way.

"Why not?", he bit his lip.

"Look, I tell you, I've had it with the whole thing".

"People often choose the wrong person first. Trust me, Elijah".

"I don't just want to get hurt again. Take it as my defense mechanism or whatever but I won't agree to this".

"I'll be here, in case you change your mind".

I think it's Jason who sent that basket. God! I accepted his present and now I'm saying no. Well, I should ask first.

"Did you..."

"What are you doing here?", Jessica broke in, I gaped at the two female shoes approaching us.

I barely look at their faces as they approach, just light another cigarette.

"Hangin' out. Wanna join?".

"No, carry on with this dark, lonesome romance of yours", she eyed me surreptitiously.

Jason opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and stayed shut.

"My, my. What do we have here? Jason is finally starting to lose it", they both clapped.

"Come on you guys", Jason spoke.

"Thank you for all this. I mean it", I said.

I turned and started walking away. 

"That's the best she can do. Leave just like that", I heard her say behind me.

"Elijah, wait!", Jason called.

And that's when I started to run. I hate them. I hate them both. They crush my confidence in front of everyone. I don't know what pleasure they get by this.

I turned my face back to see that Jason couldn't keep up with my speed, fortunately.

I unconsciously made my my way to home.

Ajaring the screen door, I stepped in. Making my way up the steps, I sensed some change in my house. A different manly smell. Something odd. Maybe someone came.

I opened my room to see nothing different. Everything was orderly. I thumped my backpack on the small study table and struggled to get out of my too tight jeans. When I just opened the zipper, I realized something.

A note. A yellow note. Stuck up on my bed wall. I walked slowly towards it and saw the scrawled words: Missed me?

Missed me? Who the hell should I be missing?

I slid my hand over it. It wasn't written with ink. It was something sticky like grease. Something brownish red.

I got some of it on my fingers and sniffed them to check what is it. It smelled like meat. Rotten meat. A stale smell with a hint of sweetness.

Blood.

"Elijah! Would you take the door, please?", Merissa called.

I was so carried away to notice she said "please". 

It disgusted me to think, who could've written me a note with blood. I didn't want to leave but I had to.

I came downstairs, still struggling with the smell and sight of blood on that note.

I unlocked the door to see two outgrown hands, curling fingers at my hard gaze. I trailed up from the fingers.

A portly guy with a big, round head.

"Hi! The name's Alfred", he stretched his sweaty, slob hand out.

"Oh, two round heads will go well together", I thought. My stomach still heavy with deep inhalation of blood.

"Hey!", I waved instead of taking his hand.

"And you must be?", he retrieved his hand.

"Elijah, I'm Merissa's niece".

"Give him way! Come on in, Alfred", Merissa said compellingly.

I gave way and tried to just fly to my room. 

"Why aren't you comin'?", he called me from behind.

"Me?", I'm amused.

"No, no. She's got her thing".

"I'd love if she joins us".

He shakily made way through the space between the table and couch and he tripped.

"Careful!", Merissa said, "Where are your shoes?".

"Oh, just the coffee, it gives me shakes", he smiled.

His belly bloated as he sat and the cola bottle on the table, jiggled, forming temporary mountains inside the bottle.

"Help yourself with the telly", Merissa said to him then smiled at me, " He's a hosier down the alley". 

Awkward. How awkward that she smiled at me.

"Oh, great!", I raised my eyebrows.

The moment he switched the thing on, the opening song of pawn stars hit our ears and he seemed delighted.

Two things are clear: he's stuffy and humorless.He doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

"So, what are you doing these days?", he asked me.

"Umm... I'm a student at wallflowers High", I replied trying hard not to yawn in his face. I really want to rush up to my room and figure things out. My head is aching from overthinking.

"What 'bout your hobbies?"

"I hate people who offend me and I do something to them that I don't see them the other day. I've been trying to give up drinking but sometimes I can't just control myself...", I thought.

Here's what I said to him, "I write journals and watch movies".

"Very particular interests you have. Very particular indeed", he sighed like he expected something different.

I'll tell you something really different, pal. Let's sigh then. He waved his hand brushing away some imaginary fly.

There, the nonversation was over with. But I have other things on mind, the note and Jessica's misbehavior. 

She should've behaved.