My Sweetheart's Psyche

Lost

Dripping, dripping, dripping. The sound echoed in my head. Dripping? What was dripping? I gasped and bolted upright. A leak?!

I didn't know what time it was and I didn't really care. Damn it! If I'd just focused in the attic yesterday, this wouldn't have happened. I sprung out of bed and started wandering around the room. I listened carefully to see where the water was coming from.

Every time it dripped, it seemed to bring me closer and closer to the window. Sure enough, I heard another drop from just behind the curtain. Did the window break? As I pulled back the curtain, I was relieved to find that it didn't. A small puddle had formed outside the windowsill. The drips were just runoff from the roof.

I sighed with relief and let the curtain fall back into place. Good, no leak. It seemed like the storm had passed too. The sky was just starting to brighten, so it must have been morning.

Guilt filled me at this thought. Poor Henry. I'd fallen asleep on him. I didn't even stay up for dinner. My stomach growled as if to echo that point. It was probably still early. I wasn't sure when Philip would come in, but maybe I could grab a small snack before breakfast.

I was about to head downstairs when something on the nightstand caught my attention. A small, silver tray with a paper attached to it. I picked up the paper. It was folded in half, Ms. Walton was scrawled across the front. Henry?

I opened it up to see a small note scribbled.

Ms. Walton,

It seems this day has taken quite a toll on you. You were sleeping like the dead when I came to get you. It seemed wrong to wake you when you were sleeping so deeply, so I let you be. Here is dinner. Help yourself to it whenever you wake up.

All my best,

Henry Weston

I couldn't help smiling as I read it. Dead asleep but he still wanted to make sure I had dinner. Henry through and through. I lifted the cover of the tray. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it was obviously some kind of pasta dish.

Part of me wondered if it was safe to be eating pasta that had been sitting out all night. However, my gurgling stomach seemed to overrule that concern. After all, it'd been covered. I grabbed a fork and started digging in. Whatever it was, it was delicious. I wish I could have had it last night, when it was at its best.

It didn't take me long to polish it off. Now I wondered if I'd even have room for breakfast later. I glanced down at the empty plate. I should probably put the dishes in the kitchen at the very least. Besides, I should check if the power had come back too.

Ugh, the power. Ugh! The attic! I let out an audible sigh of annoyance as I remembered it. Damn. If there was power, I really needed to clean up that mess I'd made. I didn't want those things lying around any longer than needed, and I still had to finish inspecting things!

I sighed again as I collected the dishes. I noticed a large, purplish bruise on my wrist. Right. I hit it on something. I shook my head and headed downstairs with the tray. Things could only go up from here, right?

As I approached the kitchen my anxiety grew. We didn't use much electricity at the mansion, but it did make things more convenient. I held my breath as I flicked on the switch for the kitchen. It all exited my body in a sigh of relief when the lights turned on. Good. Power. Now I just had to hope Mr. Weston would be someone simple today, so I could get some work done.

I set my dishes by the sink and headed for the living room. The storm may have passed, but it was still a little chilly today. Another fire might be nice.