The Strange Case of the Jackson Building

Chapter 18 - Silence

Chapter Eighteen

Silence

It was close to lunch time, probably a bad hour to go uninvited to anyone's house but she was way past formalities and common courtesies at that point. She was in dire need of some sort of healing, longing for it like an addict desperately searching for a new dose. Petra needed some sort of release urgently, so she went to the one place where she was sure she would get it.

She knocked on the door and heard a voice on the inside shouting, "It's open!"

She assumed it was an invite to get in.

When she got inside, Petra instinctively went to the living room. Harry was there, playing his video games as usual. Before she could even say anything, he told her, "Kyle and Eli aren't here. They both went to campus today."

"Oh," was her only answer. Honestly, that's where she should be as well, but Petra didn't feel in any condition to go to class and mingle and be social. She barely felt apt to hold a coherent conversation or think.

Without another word, she simply walked inside and sat next to Harry on the couch. He didn't even look at her and she didn't care.

Despite the fact that he had barely ever exchanged words with her, she actually felt comfortable around him and he didn't seem to mind her company either. For a long while, they just sat there in silence, Harry playing a violent shooting game and Petra watching it on the large TV.

Petra felt calm around Harry, his silent presence was soothing and peaceful, sane in a very unexpected way. It never felt awkward or uncomfortable, it felt healing. She couldn't help but feel like there was much more to Harry than what he let show.

After what felt like an hour of intense, yet refreshing and relaxing, silence, Harry grabbed an extra controller and handed it to her.

"Trust me," he said, when she gave him a questioning look, "it's therapy."

Petra nodded and accepted his offer. Once again, she felt like Harry knew something she didn't or understood her better than most people.

When she started playing, his theory was proven right. It was therapy and it was fun. Perfect to let out her frustrations, fears and anger, venting without a word. Harry really seemed like he got her, like he knew more than he shared.

"I like your hair," he said, out of nowhere, after shooting an enemy soldier on his head.

For some reason, she felt both embarrassed and comforted by his compliment.

"Thank you," she replied, wearing a small yet genuine smile.

In all honesty, her hair was atrocious. The perfect illustration of a mental breakdown. It was badly cut, randomly longer in some places than others, lacking any sort of style, reason or beauty. It was messy and crazy, though not in a positive, creative way. In her opinion, it was too literal. She hadn't even bothered combing it that morning, it was just there, wild, insane and without a purpose.

She wondered if he really meant what he said or if he was just being kind and polite. Harry didn't seem like the kind of guy that would lie though or fake pleasantries. He had proven many times that he was perfectly fine not saying anything if he didn't need or want to.

Petra quite liked that about him.

Once again, she wondered if he could have any possible clue about what drove her to randomly cut her own hair and so drastically. But that was impossible, wasn't it? He barely knew her, and if she barely understood it herself...