Turning Away Warm Bodies

Chapter Eleven: Growing Doubt

[Rose Amalia]

  My eyes turn away from the flashing television screen, my fingers automatically tapping the start button, putting my game play at a temporary halt. I watch as the front door carefully swings open, the hinges hesitant to move at first, an eery creek ringing out from the golden plates. Angela pokes her head through the gap that she created, her voice shy.

  "Hello?" she calls out timidly, her eyes wide.

  "It's your house, no need to ask for permission to come in!" I holler out, setting the controller down on the cushion next to where I sit.

  Her eyes meet mine once she hears my voice, a bright smile on her face. "Right..." she slips past the threshold, gently pushing the door back in place, a quaint click sounding as she flicks the lock horizontal. Her footsteps are soft as she guides herself next to me on the couch, facing the bright television screen. "What game are you playing?"

  A smirk finds its way across my hinted pale face. "Left for Dead 2"

  It's as I say this that her complexion becomes pale, a shiver running through her. Her voice quivers as she speaks. "Oh... f-fun."

  I can't help but laugh, entertained by her terrified reaction. "Don't worry, I just finished playing." I reassure her. She seems to relax, sighing in relief. I smile, reaching over to grab the controller. "You want to play?" I tease her.

  She becomes nervous, her response quick. "No no, I'm good!"

  I laugh again, enjoyment bright in my eyes. "I meant like Mario Party or something."

  "Oh," she's hesitant to reply at first, then turns to me, a calmed smile on her face, but her voice rings with slight sorrow. "Nah, I think I'll pass."

  My expression falls, suddenly concerned. "You okay?"

  She's silent for a while, her sights on me, though she looks as if staring off into the distance. "Yeah I'm fine!" she finally responds, a reassuring smile on her face, but her voice rings with uncertainty.

  I want to believe her, I do, but I'm not convinced How could I be when her voice weeps quietly behind her face, which I've now noticed has been stained with tears? No matter how much I want to believe her claim of well-being, I can't shake this growing doubt. Though knowing Angela, even if I do verbally recognize her locked up misery, she'll just deny that anything's wrong. It's a battle of strength to her. Bare your own problems and never place the burden of them onto someone else's shoulders. In my opinion though, this is just plain folly. In my eyes, if someone is willing to help you work through your problems, you should use them to your advantage; don't spend countless hours fighting a battle that you could easily win with an extra hand. Though to her, I guess reaching out for help is a sign of weakness, in that case I don't blame her for trying to withhold some sense of strength.

  So I'll let her hold on to her pride, no matter how much I want to help.

  "Alright, if you say so!" I fake a smile, holding my head up high. "I just remembered I have some homework to finish though, so if you need anything, I'll be upstairs!" I'm on my feet in a second, the path to the stairs twiddling down with every step I take.

  She doesn't respond though, her wide green eyes following me as I walk past. She looks so innocent, everything about her seeming so pure; a child's heart in a teenagers body.

  I stop once I reach the first step, meeting her curious stare with my own sweet set of blue eyes. "Even if all you want to so is talk, don't hesitate to come up, alright?" I remind her, hopeful that my words may have convinced her that it's alright to seek guidance from others.