Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

 

Words, maybe, echo to me through the hazy fog of my dreams as my eye lids slowly pull apart and I rub them with the back of my hand. Sharp light surrounds me, causing my bedroom to glow as I get out of bed.

My feet brush against cold skin and I jump slightly, hands grabbing the collar of the intruder. They wine and it takes my eyes some time to adjust and realize it is Rosha. I gently let go, then grab at her collar again and get in her face.

“What’s the big idea?! Who said you could come into my room and wake me up?! Nobody comes into my room. Got that?” I growl, fist tightening around the collar of her shirt.

She nods furiously.

“Good. Now. Why are you in here?”

“I made breakfast…” She murmurs.

I relax, my shoulders releasing their tension and my hand losing its grip on Rosha’s shirt. She backs up a little, cautiously. I’m still in my battle gear, and I pat her head in approval as I quickly change into a large, black tee and shorts.

“At least you do as you’re told.” I turn toward her. “What did you make for breakfast?”

She rubs her neck a little, then her arm. “Whatever I could find in the fridge and freezer.”

I nod and then glance down at my leg. The gauze is soaked in my blood. The gash probably opened during the fight last night. Already, I feel drained, and eating breakfast might be a smart choice.

“Wanna go eat?” Rosha’s voice pulls me out of my drowsiness.

I look at her and nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait in the kitchen.”

She leaves as I force myself to the bathroom, peeling off the old gauze. A long, dark red scab has formed over night right where my cut used to be; some of it has clung to the gauze and Neosporin. I toss it, bending over the sink to grab the med kit. It balances for a second as I try to reach for it, but then falls over and spills everywhere.

Cursing, I grit my teeth and get off the counter, bending down to pick up the mess. I’m caught off guard quickly and lean back to catch my breath as pain stings through my leg and mocks me again as I try to pick up the mess a second time.

A gentle hand moves me back, and a blonde fluff of hair has me blinking, and rubbing my eyes. The warm, green eyes of a familiar face calms my senses, and my hand struggles to grip onto the counter.

Rosha has cleaned up the spill, and I silently punish myself for giving in to my pain and not fixing my own mistake. I shove her away as I snatch the gauze from the medi-kit and furiously wrap my leg, grabbing a baby pin to hold it in place.

I’m so caught up in my anger that I manage to send the baby pin through my knee. Blood rises and I stare at it, hands shaking a little. My wall inside crumbles a little and I feel vulnerable with Rosha in the room. I steal a glare at her, seeing her stare at me with concern.

“What do you want? Go back to the kitchen. I’m almost done.” I hiss.

“You’re hurt. Lemme help.” She offers to take the pin, but I knock her hand away, hearing a small wine out of her as she backs up.

“No. I don’t need your help. Go back to the kitchen.” My glare is cold.

She slowly backs up to the door, and then turns with a final look at me, leaving out as told. I give a quick yank to the pin and slide it out of my knee, then take a deep breath to calm myself before putting it where I want it. It keeps a strong grip on the wrap, keeping it in place.

With another grit of my teeth, I force myself back onto my feet, putting as little pressure as I can on the wounded leg. Then, I slide the medi-kit where it last was, checking the lid one last time to be 100% sure that it’ll stay on. Content with its condition, I leave to the kitchen.

Rosha sits in the far corner next to the window. She’s moved the barstool, Switten in her lap. My cat purrs and rubs her face against the blonde’s elbow, but Rosha seems distracted, staring out into the gray city. Her chin rests on her open palm, that’s tucked neatly under, while her other arm wraps around her waist comfortingly. Her legs have been brought up to her chest, probably a position that calms her.

I lose my cold glare and glance at the other barstool, seeing my breakfast on a plate, steaming hot and utensils set beside it.

Rosha hasn’t moved. Either she is unaware of my presence or she’s ignoring it.

The thought upsets me, and I find myself knocking my fork onto the floor. It makes a sharp ting sound before lying to rest flat on the tile floor. Dead silence follows it, but Rosha finally turns her head to look at me, usual green eyes are grey.

“I…dropped my fork…” I almost blush, and punish myself again for letting my vulnerability show.

   “Here,” She’s by my feet on the floor in a blink and picks up the fork, holding it out, handle towards me.

“Thanks…” I force out through my teeth and then sit down stiffly.

I take a bite without blowing, scorching my tongue, but uncaring. The flavors melt on my tongue and I eat faster, burning my mouth with each bite. Rosha has a small smile on the corner of her lips, watching me, hands behind her back.

“What’cha staring at?” I say with my mouth full.

“Is it that good?” She giggles and I scowl.

“I’m hungry.” I admit, taking another bite with a cold glare. “Why do you care anyway?”

She shrugs away my venomous comment with a smile and then sits on the barstool again without Switten. My cat crunches on her cat food while I glance at her food bag. It’s nearly empty. And breakfast must be the last of whatever I had in the fridge.

I’m probably going to have to go shopping.

I shake my head at the idea, thinking of how I have to be in the store with other people and make contact with them to get what I want. A shiver slithers down my back and I recoil, cringing at the idea.

Not only that…

But I have to trust Rosha to watch the house while I am gone.

My eyes flicker toward the blonde again, and she’s staring out once more.

“I’m going shopping.” I rise and toss my empty plate into the sink.

The clang makes her wince a little but she nods without looking my way. Switten purrs and rubs her head against my ankle. I smile small down at her and pet her softly, hearing her purr louder.

“You stay out of trouble, sweetheart. Be a good kitty for mother.” I whisper softly and kiss her head, then set her down and she pads behind me as I fetch my jacket off the coat rack.

She mewls, rubs her head again on my ankle. I gently push her aside with my foot, shaking my head.

“No. Mother has to go shopping. She’ll be back soon. Stay here with the blonde girl and keep her company.” Knelt down, I’m scratching her ears again.

“She’ll be fine with me. I promise.”

My head snaps up towards Rosha. Her eyes are still partially grey, melting into a dull green. I slowly rise, standing a good foot higher than her. She looks up at me, silent and I stare back before shoving her aside.

“I expect the house in one piece and my baby safe and purring when I get back.” I let my glare grow hard and cold.

She nods. “I promise.”

I turn the handle to the door and pause for a moment. “Also. Either get a job to help pay for the food you eat here and water you use in my apartment, or find a new place to hide.”

I can feel her shiver through the air. My eyes trail towards her. She’s writing with a pen on her arm.

There are multiple lines and words written up and down her arms in a tattoo-like pattern. I pay little attention to them, catching “breakfast in the morning” or “don’t wake Rikki.”

A small smile manages to break through my icy barrier as I tromp down the steps and head down the concrete. The air is frigid, enough for me to see my breath and feel the goose bumps up my arms. People stare at my attire and probably just me period. I don’t go outside often and it’s a rarity when I do.

The store isn’t far for me to walk. Maybe three blocks, probably more, but I barely notice. It’s when I turn the corner it’s on, that my leg starts to act up. I bite my lip hard enough to make it bleed, and a tiny gasp slips through my lips as I lean against the wall.

Pushing myself forward with little endurance I have left, I make it through the store doors. People cower a little; others scowl as I pass by. Some don’t even notice me as I go to grab a cart.

The store is small, a mini-mart that’s always packed and crowded. I nudge my way through clueless groups, going down isle after isle. The choices are wide, and each isle is colder and colder, like a broken AC that freezes instead of cools off is following me.

Absent mindedly, I rub at my arm and shiver some.

“What happened to your leg, missus?”

I put on my best scowl as I look down to see a young boy, maybe four or five with only his front teeth in. His hand is cupped around my bandage, curiosity and concern in his blue eyes. He has a tiny mop of brown hair on his head. He’s been dressed in a grey t-shirt with jeans and sandals.

“The boogieman got me.” I smirked darkly at him.

His eyes widened and he backed up a little bit. “What happened?”

“You see, the boogieman loves to gobble up people when they sleep in the dark without a nightlight. He crawls out from under your bed and reaches up, his claws getting a feel for you before he eats you…” I can see he’s physically shaking from my story. I’ve hooked him. Pure fear is in his eyes.

I go to finish off my story, when he’s grabbed by the shoulder. An older woman glares at me as she holds the young boy. She caresses him and comforts him as she drags him away, not letting go of her glare on me.

“Don’t listen to her, honey.” I hear before she turns to the other isle.

“Serves him right.” I grumble to myself and glance down at my bandage. It’s bloody again, and blood spirals in a twist down the back of my thigh and trickles into my shoe.

With a big sigh, I force myself to finish my shopping trip. I have to search harder for some things and have to drag over an employee (literally) over to the animal food isle and have him pick up the cat food for me.

I mumble a quick “thank you” to him before I escape to the check out and swipe my credit card to pay. The cashier eyes me carefully, curiosity buried deep within his eyes as he glances at my thigh. I smack his arm.

“Excuse me? I’m not a stop sign w***e. Stop eyeing me over.” I snap, and he blushes dark red as he returns to the cash register and returns me my cash back and receipt.

I pocket both and then push my cart down the street. I give some cash to an employee and push the cart down the sidewalk, leveraging my weight onto it, cursing at the flow rate of the blood.

I hiss when I feel a touch to my back. It’s a young boy. He cringes under my gaze and cowers a little.

“What do you want?” I scowl.

“I-I thought you’d like some help with your groceries. How far did you park, Miss?” He gulps hard, and I can hear his breathing.

“I didn’t park anywhere. I’m going to my house. Shoo. Go back home, boy. I don’t need your help. I’m just fine.” I focus on the concrete before me and push my cart forward, turning the corner.

“But Miss, you’re hurt,” He starts after me, grabbing my shoulder.

I growl, flip him over me and glare at his beaten body. He groans, chest rising as he winces in pain. I’ve broken two ribs and probably torn the muscle in his right shoulder, but I continue to stare at him for some time before leaving him there and continuing home.

It doesn’t take long before I hear an ambulance race by me as I turn up the street to my apartment. The sirens are blaring; a gust of wind smacking me in the face. I rub my eyes before grabbing the front of the cart and clicking speed-dial on my cell phone. I call my apartment phone.

After a few rings my patience starts to dissolve and I almost hang up when Rosha’s voice registers over the speaker.

“It’s Rikkira. Come down here and help me with the damn groceries.” I hang up before she can reply.

It’s not long before she’s outside with me. She’s changed into a pair of my old, blue jeans that are ripped in the knees and an old, white blouse I shoved in the corner of my room years ago. Though, I notice it’s newly washed and stain-free. She smiles gently at me as she picks up the cat food bag and some of the other groceries.

“You sure you can handle the ones you have?” She’s concerned; I can hear it in her voice.

I nod without a scowl, and instead a gentle face. She’s a little surprised as I push aside the cart next to a car and follow behind her inside. The steps nearly kill me, and sadly the elevator is out of order.

I curse with each step as I make it finally into my room, throwing the groceries on the floor and plopping onto the couch.

Rosha wastes no time putting the groceries away; the rustling of bags keeping me conscious. The fridge closes softly time after time, and so does the pantry door as she slides Switten’s food bag under the bottom cabinet.

My eyes flutter to stay open, and I fight against the urge to sleep. It’s a tough job to do, especially with what little strength I have.

Then warm hands cause me to yelp and jump. My eyes spring open toward the touch to see Rosha’s fingers carefully removing my bandage. I leave her be, resting my head on the cushion as a cold touch replaces the warmth from before.

I notice it’s a wet rag in her hand as she glides it cautiously and professionally around my wound, wiping up any red spot she can see.

It’s when I see the needle in her hand when I tense up and kick her away, but she catches my foot and sets it down aside the couch cushion.

“Trust me, Rikki.” She pats my ankle calmly.

Trust…

It’s a word I’ve never used with anyone but Switten, if the cat even counts…

I try to relax under her gaze, with the needle in sight, and it takes a few tries. Fortunately Rosha is patient and she waits till I’m settled into the couch and comfortable in her lap.

I close my eyes and drift into a hazy world of fog and shadows, gently nodding off into sleep.

My dream is like the others I’ve had over the years. Scarlet drops where I walk and shadowy figures following me. I’ve begun to ignore them, knowing none of them can truly hurt me, but I keep an aware feel for them in case my ignorance gets the best of me.  

There are silhouetted trees around me that drop scarlet petals to the ground around my feet. The ground is dirt, the only other color in my dream world. It’s always the same. The same star. The same colors. The same time I wake up.

Oddly enough, this time there is no star.

I’m finding myself wandering amiss among the trees and figures. Feet pushing over petals and having them melt under the skin of my soles.

There’s a slight breeze from the west and chills hug me tightly as I shiver. Normally the weather has no affect on me here, but this must be new dream. One I’ve never encountered before. I shake my head at the thought, causing white dust to scatter into my view as I catch a petal on my nose.

It’s warm, radiating a sense of love and feeling. The gesture is bizarre to me, new, and unrecognizable. I leave it there to rest, and slip a hand into my pocket. Even they are cold, numbing my hands faster than the breeze.

I rub them together, blowing the petal into my hands. Another joins it, fluttering beside the other, and then melting into my palms. The warmth gone and no longer present. Tears fight to rise in my eyes as I clench my hands around the melted petals. They drip off my fingertips onto the ground, painting the dirt I stand upon, red.

“D-don’t go…” I wine quietly. “Come back…”

There is no return of the warmth I managed to share with the scarlet color before. I’ve been abandoned in the cold, left to freeze and die.

I curl up in a ball on the ground, waiting to wake up, to be on my warm couch again, snuggling with Switten, but the dream is all too real. Everything scores down to the nerves of my skin.

A dream isn’t real…

I dig into my palms with my nails, and hiss when they bleed. The pain is very much real, and so is the scarlet colors again.

I watch them dance off my palm onto the ground, grouping with the rest. I try to hold my hands to my heart and feel warmth, but there is only cold.

“Come back….” I beg quietly against my palms, pressing them to my face.

Hour spent of begging, my voice begins to fail me, and warmth touches my face. I cry quietly, tears streaming down my face as I relish in it.

….Wake up?

I hear the whisper, but cannot find the source of the call as I furiously glance around.

Then there’s shaking and I cling to a tree, squinting my eyes closed as there’s a gentle caress to my face.

Everything bursts white, and then color returns to my senses. I’m back in the living room on the couch with a fire going. A blanket’s been wrapped around me and Rosha hovers above me, wrist to my forehead. I shake it off, and see her take my chin to stop me.

“You have a cold, Rikki. Calm down.” She whispers.

I automatically obey, relaxing into the cushions of the couch. Switten is curled up beside me, tail over her nose as her chest rises up and down.

“Switten…” My throat is dry as I cup her in my arms and bury my face in her fur. She mewls in response, yawning with a purr. “My little baby.”

She licks my cheek, stretching and then licking herself. I smile warmly at her, and then notice Rosha poking at the fire.

“Careful, the firepl-” I speak up a little late in time and she pulls her hand back, holding her fingertips.

I can see they’re red and starting to swell. I throw my blanket off, absently walking over to her and kneeling down. Her eyes widen some at the affectionate touch as I grab her hand and examine the burn.

She doesn’t fight back when I help her up and drag her to the kitchen. Throwing open the freezer door, I shove her fingers into the ice and feel her shiver against my abdomen as I wrap them in a rag as I take them out, then rest them in there again.

Dead silence rings between us, warmth shared with body heat.

“You shouldn’t be in the cold, Rikki…” She murmurs and I feel the heat of her breath on my skin, shivering.

“Don’t tell me what I shouldn’t be doing.” I give her a warning glare. “You’re hurt. I’m taking care of your injury first.”

She goes silent, and I take that as an obey to my order.

My eyes dart to the clock above the stove and I growl when I notice its 9:30.

“Are your fingers ok?” I snap my attention back to her.

She nods quietly.

“Good. Stay here. I’m going outside.”

She catches my shoulder as I’m halfway out of the kitchen.

“It’s raining. They aren’t out tonight.” She assures.

I relax, and realize she’s right. I can catch the sounds of the rain above the crackling of the fire. My eyes trail back at her and I relax my face, giving her a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Her face sprouts surprise and relief when she hears me say that. She holds her hand to her chest with the other one. She’s shut the freezer door and Switten munches away at her new bowl of food.

“You’re welcome…”

My hand brushes against the new bandages on my leg, and I glance down at them briefly before returning my gaze to Rosha. She’s still staring at me, eyes green once again, an exotic green.

“Want to watch a movie..?” I rub at my arm.

“S-sure…”

Awkward silence hovers in the air.

“I’ll make popcorn.” She leaves to the pantry.

I nod to mostly myself and speak up before leaving the kitchen. “I’ll pick the movie…”