Kindred Spirit

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎She asked me, ''Why do you love me?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎''I just do,'' I said.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎She then tucked her head back under my armpit and sighed as she gathered all her hair over her shoulder. I rested the back of my head back onto the soft, warm pillow. As I stared at the ceiling, I noticed the yellow of the sky bouncing from the stained white of the ceiling and onto my pale face. Sleep was about to take over me.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎''Are you falling asleep?'' she asked, looking up at me, I supposed.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎''Hmm?'' I hummed with only one eye opened.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎''It's ten past six. It's only dusk.''‎‏‏‎ She tittered and must have playfully rolled her eyes at me.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I could barely reply, ''I've had a rough... day.'' My eyes were completely shut at this point. I could not notice my breathing anymore.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ And then my world rocked. My eyes shot open to see my girlfriend had bounced up to sit on her shins, looking intently at me with an expectant smile on her face. The mattress still wobbling.‏‏‎

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''I know what we should do, I'll order us some pizza!''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I groaned and rested my head back. I said, ''Babe, I don't think I'm up to eat just yet.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''But babe...'' she trailed off, tucking her hands between her folded legs, biting her lips and then pursing them at me.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I looked at her with squinted eyes, a smile began creeping on my face. I shut my eyes again and rolled them at her silliness. ''Fine,'' I sighed, a mere simper etched on my face.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Yay!'' She bounced off the bed and I rested my eyes again for just one more moment. That was until she went tugging on my arm attempting to pull me out of bed.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Okay, okay,'' I said, reaching to sit at the foot of our bed. ''Aren't you going to order first? Do I have to be up?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She tapped my cheeks and said, ''Well, you know it's hard to wake you up. So you have to be up because I won't be able to finish all this pizza on my own!'' Giggling, she ran out of the room to retrieve her mobile phone.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

I rubbed my temples and turned to look at the yellow sky. Now, that would have just made me want to roll back to bed. So, I went my way to the bathroom and threw icy cold water on my face. I found myself staring at my reflection on the mirror. I nearly camouflaged into the white tiles of the bathroom walls, and my lips almost didn't look as chapped in the foggy mirror. All the while, gravity taking a greater toll on my cheeks. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵, 𝘢𝘮 𝘐? I was only twenty-five, so much still ahead of me; not sure what, but surely something.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Andy! The pizza's here!''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ My brows furrowed and I yelled back, ''Already?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Yuh uh, ya bet! Get your ass here!'' I could hear her giggle, as well as the pizza stuffed in her mouth.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Literally forgetting where I was standing, I palmed the wall to push myself upright and began to trod to the kitchen.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ As I approached her, she smilingly looked up at me, her lofty and quite groggy boyfriend. Then she, for some reason, decided to almost violently shove a slice of pizza onto my face. Silly girl.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Wiping sauce from the corners of my mouth, I snatched the slice of pizza from her hands. ''You sure love to abuse me, huh,'' I jokingly accused her at which she shrugged and smirked.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''In celebration, you know,'' she said, raising her slice of pizza.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ At that remark, I found myself hesitantly calling, ''Hannah,'' I leant my side on the refrigerator while she sat on the kitchen counter.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Mhm?'' she hummed, busy chewing her food.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Are you sure that-- you know, that-- '' I immediately stopped myself. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''What is it?'' she pressed, her eyes still smiling.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Never mind, uh.. It's a sensitive topic. I shouldn't bring it up.'' I looked down and slowly shook my head at myself/

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Is it about Frank?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I didn't look at her. I was too afraid to see the drastic change in her expression. Her eyes were definitely no longer smiling then.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''No... well, yeah, but no, we shouldn't talk about it--'' I rambled, still refusing to look her in the eye.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''If you want to claim the body and hold a funeral or, what, a burial? For him then you can go ahead before it's too late. Because I sure will not,'' she said with diction, her mouth empty by then.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Anyone who'd known about before or even just as far as the previous day would've known that our lives were not as simple and jolly as it seemed. And we should not ever think our relationship could be anywhere close to wholesome.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I continued the discussion—which I probably should not have done—and said, ''You know how it goes, inmates will just be buried in some cardboard box, disposed like garbage--''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Frankly, I don't care, Andy,'' she finally said and walked off with the box of pizza to the bedroom. Before she disappeared into the room, she took a reluctant step back to tell me, ''Come in here and get some pizza when you're done worrying about my ex-husband. Or better yet, start with your project and worry about that instead. But hey, I think I can eat this all by myself.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I watched her figure leave and I let out a deep breath. The thought of his unacknowledged death had been eating me up, since we were met with the news only as fresh as the day before.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ As for my sculpture, I thought it could wait.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Rubbing my temples with the flat pads of my thumbs, I trudged to the sofa and dropped face down onto the furry throw pillow. Never have liked this throw pillow, the fur got all in my mouth. I couldn't believe I hadn't yet choked on it in my sleep. Moving my face to the side and away from my potential death, I could finally breathe. I then realised that there were still greasy crumbs on my fingers. Why hadn't I washed them when the sink was only merely a feet away from me? I didn't know.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Being too lazy and feeling weak, I reached for the pack of wet wipes on the coffee table and pulled a reasonable few. Wiped my mouth and temples, as well. The cooling effect on my face made me want to take another wet wipe and use it as a mask. On that note, Hannah must have had one of those face masks in the refrigerator, but the refrigerator was as out of reach as the sink. Besides, my skincare was the least of my cares, I wanted to cool my face. Perhaps I needed a shower, but I was already settled on the soft sofa.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I finally shut my eyes with the safety of knowing that there shouldn't be any more surprises. With a crumpled ball of wet wipe still in my default grasp, my mouth opened agape and my eyeballs began to feel weightless.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

Walking on the broken bricks of the pavement, I'm turning to my right. I have a destination I must reach; I wouldn't know what to do if I don't get there at the soonest. My chin is up but all I see is the rough pavement. My head feels heavy and for that, I feel like I'm going to stumble over and fall. Instead, I start levitating and my feet are not touching the ground anymore, so I can finally see ahead of me.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ However, not even a second after, I'm back on the ground. The sand seeping in between my toes. I can't see the sand, but I'm sure that it is sand. There could be nothing else as fine and rough as sand. At least, nothing else I can think of at this moment. All I can think of is that I need to get to the tiny house on the sand.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ By tiny, I mean only two people could possibly reside in there. Heck, my city apartment seems bigger and more spacious than that house. I'm walking towards it, expecting the sand to be burning my feet, but it's not, thankfully. Actually, I'm digging into the sand, but at the same time, getting closer to my final destination.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ The house turns out to be bigger. Would anyone be home? I'm beginning to see the colour of the house; red roof and cream walls, and it's either the front door and windows are a dirty white or I am yet to find the colour.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I'm knocking on the door but I don't hear a sound. I knock harder so that it can be audible but as my knuckle is just about to make contact with the wood, it lands on long soft hair instead. Hair of a beautiful woman I believe, the same colour as the front door, brunette. I think she's not hurt.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I laugh and she turned to me. I want to speak, but what do I say?

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Who are you?'' she asks, looking into my soul.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''I- I don't know,'' I say. ''Can I come in?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She smiles at me and then her features soften. ''Sure,'' she says and goes her way inside. She continues, ''That's why I opened the door for you, silly.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Beautiful... home,'' I compliment, looking around, trying to make out anything the best I can despite the blinding brightness. Antiques; brass and bronze. ''Oh, I forgot to leave my shoes at the door!'' I tell her.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''What shoes? You weren't wearing any.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''I wasn't?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Silly boy.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She leads me to a wooden sofa and sits down, I sit down beside her. I collect myself and say, ''Oh, sorry, do you want me to sit here?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Oh, quit being polite. Nothing will harm me anymore,'' she says. ''Where have you been?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''I'm just here.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''You look disheveled,'' she points out.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Do I?'' I wonder, looking down on my regular blue shirt. ''It must be my girlfriend.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''A girlfriend? What's her name?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Hannah,'' her name erupts from my mouth. I look at the far end of a hallway and see Hannah, posing with a box of pizza in her hands. I stare at it until I realise it's only a statue.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''She seems lovely--''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''We really should talk about something,'' I say intently.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She brings one of her striped pyjama clad legs up and under her, and says, ''Well then, go on.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''But first, what's your name? I'm Andy,'' I present my right hand.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She looks down on my hand like it's a foreign object. I check if it is. Thank God it isn't. She eventually takes it and says, ''I'm Juno.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Juno, what a unique name.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Thanks,'' she beams with shyness and a dimple pops right out of her left cheek. ''What did you want to talk about?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Oh, never mind that. Now let me just say that you look... homely and comfortable... in a good way of course. Is this your home?'' I gesture to our surrounding.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She looks around as if she's sightseeing from a window on a train. ''I... don't remember, but it's my home now. I believe I made it.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Made it?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Made it my home,'' she explains further.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''These things?'' I point to the glass vase shaped like a paper plane with its nose as the bottom. ''Aren't yours?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Nope, I don't think so,'' she says, ever so clueless.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''What a wonder.'' I speak mostly to myself as I continue to gape at my surrounding.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Would Hannah like this place?'' she asks and my head snaps back to her.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''She... she would, yeah.'' I slowly nod, finding myself staring at the foot of an ancient-looking cabinet. A box of pizza stuck under it.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Would she like it here? With you?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Yes, definitely,'' I say, ''If one of us had to live here, the other would tag along. You know, we can't... we just cannot live without each other, or at least I can't.''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''And Frank?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Her dead ex-husband? What about him? I'm just as clueless as you are,'' I tell her as I give her a rag doll that resembles my girlfriend.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I can't believe I gave her that. I immediately pick on my fingernails. She proceeds to ask further, ''So, she was married? How long until you two? (too?)''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I stare at her, feeling my brows stitch together. ''Well, we've only been together... three years?''

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ The sun is shining brighter through the roof as it was made of glass, but as I remember, it isn't made of glass.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

A blurry red glow shined on my eyes. The tangy smell of sweat engulfed my senses. I whisked away a clump of hair from my face and turned to my side. My breathing quickened but soon remained still. I squeezed the pillow harder. I felt like my mind awoke a few seconds quicker than the rest of my body.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ There was ruffling far away. Heeled footsteps eventually approached me.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ''Andy,'' she called as she shook me. ''Andy, I'm going to work. Eat some breakfast and then maybe start with your art, okay? Bye.'' was all she said before she was out the door.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ I finally opened my eyes and stared at the opened window where the morning sun was shining through. I could've counted the rays. I really believed I could.