Afternoon, March 27th..
Toby leaned his forehead, along with his palm, against the door to his room, breathing like he'd just come out of a bad dream. He sort of wished it was..
His shoulders tensed and he grunted through a shiver. He could still feel that girl's blank purple eyes on him, staring at him..but not at the same time. He remembered her face like it was burned into his head..she had been curious.. Or something close to it..
"What are you?"
"Nothing.."
"You lie."
He had already been irritated..ready to hit something..when he came here.. He should have just gotten a drink and gone upstairs.
He took a deep breath and the scent of copper made his nose itch.. He pulled himself away from the door, his hand sliding along the wooden surface. Rust brown streaks of blood were left behind. He felt it flake off his fingertips when he clenched his fist.
He had to get rid of it..
He turned sharply for the bathroom, tossed the bottle of soda he had almost broken onto the bed..shouldered the door open so hard it banged into the wall and slid back in an arc..nearly closing. He turned on the faucet, shoved his hands under the warm water and started scrubbing his fingers even before he had soap.
He hadn't wanted to hit her that hard.. He didn't think he'd even wanted to hit her.. Just..get her away from him..make her stop touching him, asking questions..
How did she even know..
He rubbed and scraped at his fingers until he couldn't feel her flesh breaking against them.. He cupped palmfuls of water and splashed his face..ran his hands back through his hair.. He listened to the water rush out of the faucet and back down the drain for a minute, until it didn't even sound like a noise anymore..then he shut it off..
He dried his hands on his wine stained khakis, prying a yellow piece of parchment out of his back pocket on his way out of the bathroom.
All of it..was for that stupid paper.. He didn't want to have it anymore. He didn't want to even know it existed..or want anyone else to know that it did.. He had been just fine..before Lisa had given it to him..
But he hadn't been able to get rid of it. He'd lost count of how many times he had stood in front of a small fire..kindling in one hand..parchment in the other, ready to pitch it in and watch it burn.. Without it..though..
He grunted again, sighed as he lowered himself onto the bed, leaning back into the bunch of pillows propped against the headboard. He peeled the parchment open, fold by fold, held it up to the light..turned it around..
...and began to read.
Toby leaned his forehead, along with his palm, against the door to his room, breathing like he'd just come out of a bad dream. He sort of wished it was..
His shoulders tensed and he grunted through a shiver. He could still feel that girl's blank purple eyes on him, staring at him..but not at the same time. He remembered her face like it was burned into his head..she had been curious.. Or something close to it..
"What are you?"
"Nothing.."
"You lie."
He had already been irritated..ready to hit something..when he came here.. He should have just gotten a drink and gone upstairs.
He took a deep breath and the scent of copper made his nose itch.. He pulled himself away from the door, his hand sliding along the wooden surface. Rust brown streaks of blood were left behind. He felt it flake off his fingertips when he clenched his fist.
He had to get rid of it..
He turned sharply for the bathroom, tossed the bottle of soda he had almost broken onto the bed..shouldered the door open so hard it banged into the wall and slid back in an arc..nearly closing. He turned on the faucet, shoved his hands under the warm water and started scrubbing his fingers even before he had soap.
He hadn't wanted to hit her that hard.. He didn't think he'd even wanted to hit her.. Just..get her away from him..make her stop touching him, asking questions..
How did she even know..
He rubbed and scraped at his fingers until he couldn't feel her flesh breaking against them.. He cupped palmfuls of water and splashed his face..ran his hands back through his hair.. He listened to the water rush out of the faucet and back down the drain for a minute, until it didn't even sound like a noise anymore..then he shut it off..
He dried his hands on his wine stained khakis, prying a yellow piece of parchment out of his back pocket on his way out of the bathroom.
All of it..was for that stupid paper.. He didn't want to have it anymore. He didn't want to even know it existed..or want anyone else to know that it did.. He had been just fine..before Lisa had given it to him..
But he hadn't been able to get rid of it. He'd lost count of how many times he had stood in front of a small fire..kindling in one hand..parchment in the other, ready to pitch it in and watch it burn.. Without it..though..
He grunted again, sighed as he lowered himself onto the bed, leaning back into the bunch of pillows propped against the headboard. He peeled the parchment open, fold by fold, held it up to the light..turned it around..
...and began to read.