Bloodshed

02. McCaul Street

     "You're awake early," Mor states in her morning voice. One of her brown locks falls in front of her eyes, and I reach for it, curling it around my finger. A soft smile of hers greets me, and I get reminded of the day that I met her.

     It was a rainy day, not very different from today, and it wasn't long after I fled from Jil and my order. I kind of ran into her on a frat party when she was with her friends, who are now my friends, too. Back then, I didn't even know what a frat party was, but I saw a house full of people and lights, and I just had to go there.

     I got drunk for the first time, danced like I had never done so before, and I finally communicated with people my own age. The sweaty bodies touched me as I twirled around and around with my hands practically everywhere in the air. I felt free. Finally.

     That's when Mor ran into me, on the dancefloor. She was just crossing it, holding a cup with something alcoholic in her hand. The liquid ruined the only clothes I possessed. Mor felt so awful, so she kept apologizing. I reassured her while simply laughing the accident off, told her I as perfectly fine, but she wasn't having any of it. Determined to make up for it, she invited me to a cozy, small café the next day.

     I didn't have much–barely anything, actually. My only way of getting fresh clothes was by taking them. Stealing out of shops wasn't it for me. It'd be too simple to land in the hands of policemen, and then it wouldn't take long until Jil got her hands on me again. I didn't want that, so I stole out of people's houses. Only then could I take baths, showers, and get new stuff. It was far from a perfect life, but again, I felt more free than I had ever done before.

     So, with a stolen but fitting jeans and sweatshirt, I went to the café, and there she was. And I had fun–maybe even more fun than getting drunk. We talked about the accident, but really, we both didn't remember much.

     We went on another rendez-vous, and after that one, we saw each other again and again. Now, we're renting an apartment together.

     Now, I've got to pretend that I wasn't trained to be a killer.

     "Why were you so troubled last night?" Mor asks me as she, too, fills her a cup of freshly made tea. As she pours, her eyes stay on me. Even though I'm watching Toronto wake up, I can feel it.

     "I wasn't," I tell her, but when the words leave my lips, I know they aren't believable.

     "That's not true," Mor says, and I nod in defeat. I lie to her too many times already, so I won't lie for one restless night. It's hardly something to bother lying for. "You turned quite a lot. I was worried, Sam." Only now do I notice the frown on her face, and I force myself to attempt to smile.

     It works–I smile, ignoring how the blood on the man's lips flashes in front of my eyes again. It could've been Mor, I remind myself right before I say, "I'm only worrying a little."

     "What's there to worry about?" she asks, taking a sip of her still hot tea. Mor has heard about the disappearances–everyone has–but it's in her nature to assume she's going to be safe. She's one who rarely worries for herself, but when she sees me having a rough day, she does everything to make the twinkles in my eyes appear again.

     "I've got a rough day today," I tell her in a calm voice, but at the same time, I want to scream everything! I don't. My lips don't even part again.

     It doesn't take long for Morgana to leave after preparing herself for the day to come. I wave gently, already thinking of tonight, when we'll see each other again at the pub after a day at different schools.

-

"Drink up, Sam!" Lucas giggles loudly as he presses a cup of some green-looking liquid into it. I scrunch up my nose as I smell it. It's something strong–that's for sure. My eyes fall on Lucas again, who's already completely wasted, and we haven't even entered the pub yet.