HER [ONGOING] ~Editing Almost Done~ [New Chapters Coming Soon]

Chapter Thirty · One

(Katie McGrath in the image of Laura Marie Anderson, age: 26)

Julian

I stepped inside my home, shutting the door behind me and locking it. Afterwards, I carelessly tossed my keys onto the coffee table, then took off my jacket, and too, tossing it, but onto the sofa before walking into the kitchen and over to the sink. Turning on the faucet, and after I rolled up my sleeves, added soap and began washing my hands. When I was done, I shut off the faucet, thumping off the remaining water left on my fingers into the sink. I began prepping to make breakfast for Emelise and me, gathering all the ingredients I needed. My pancake mix from the top cabinet and placed it on the wide island counter of my kitchen, then grabbed a bowl and spoon to stir the batter. After the best night of my life, I was in an extremely good mood, all thanks to my dear, sweet, sweet Eliza. I pulled down a skillet, hanging just above my island counter. I then placed it on the stove. I cooked four pancakes, two for me and the other two for Emelise. It wasn't much, but it was something to eat. Setting two pancakes onto a plate, I poured syrup on them, creating a smiley face. I grabbed a small glass from the cabinet and poured her a cold cup of milk, then I picked up the glass along with the plate and headed into the basement. I hit the light switch using my left shoulder, since my hands were currently occupied, before going down the stairs.

When I saw Emelise, she was still fast asleep, lying in a fetal position on the cot I had bought for her not too long ago. I knew the floor couldn't be that much comfortable; it was hard and cold after all. Quietly, I approached her and placed the food and drink down next to the cot before gently shaking her awake. I watched as she squeezed her eyes shut as if she was in pain or a nightmare even. I shook her again, only this time it was much rougher. Her eyes shot open, and when she saw me, she jerked her body away. I could see the terror light up in her eyes as her little chest arose and fell at a fast rate. I frowned as I stared at her with genuine concern. I then broke through the silence by saying in a low tone and calm manner, "I made you breakfast." However, she didn't bat an eyelash or so much as to say a word, just stared at me blankly, as if she was out of her physical shell, and somewhere else mentally instead. I sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy. I stuck my hand out toward her and her response to this was a flinch; she began to tremor when my fingers softly brushed against her face, removing the little strands of hair that had stuck to it.

I withdrew my hand and again, I repeated, "I made you breakfast." Still, she was silent. I was beginning to be impatient with her because by now she should know what I expected from her and I hate to have to keep drawing it out of her. Rather, she liked it, or not, she was stuck with me. "What do we say, hm?" I said, giving her a stern look. She took a hard swallow, averting her gaze from me to the floor, and said, "... Th-thank you ..." I smiled, pleased to hear what I wanted. I stood up and headed back upstairs. I sat at the island and ate my breakfast and after; I cleaned up the little mess in the kitchen I made earlier, then proceeded to the bathroom to take a shower.

Some time had passed; it was now later in the day. I was happy to find myself where I'm most comfortable, in my art room. It's been a long while since I've been inspired. At last, I sat on my painter's stool in just my gray sweats, and nothing but the canvas itself in front of me. I picked up my paintbrush, dipped it into the cup of fresh water that rested on top of the side table, and began to mix some colors on the palette, creating the base of my visual painting of Eliza. I used mixes of colors like white and yellow, then adding hints of blue and red with the tints of yellow to create a warm brown for her hair. As I painted, I could visualize her delicate features I knew from memory, and concentrated on bringing it to life on my canvas, even adding in my own perception of her. I was lost in the art, but that didn't stop my mind from wandering off into other areas. To be more specific, my thoughts went to Laura. Some of her features resembled Eliza's in a way. I couldn't help but think of her smile. It was just as bright and beautiful. I smiled at the memory of it, though my smile quickly vanished as it appeared, realizing it was now just a memory and nothing more.