Colors are Lovely to Taste

Messes can be intimate too

As I woke up and turned over on my bed, I realized there was blood on my pillow. I must have been dreaming really hard although I barely remember my dreams. There was one about some girl chasing me and I, a dumbass was trying hide. She was very short with a wind breaker on and had curly hair . One of those girls who look like they aren't trying to destroy you. I eventually killed her though so I'm wondering if this is my blood or hers. My dreams used to stress me out and for this not to, I think I'm getting better. I used to go through that weird shit like sleep paralysis, night terrors and also lucid dreaming. I don't know what was wrong with me but it's all over now.

I get up to go the bathroom and before I leave the room I get a phone call. "Good morning" I say very tired like.
"Hey schyalat! Guess who." "Umm despite the caller I.D. And the familiar sounding voice I think I'm going to go with....my mom?"
"Geesh, how do you get it everytime?"
"You're the only person that bothers to call me so, what do you want?"
"It's those weird people next door again, I think they're up to something."
"Something like what mom, this isn't anything new."
"I'm serious this time, they were on the news yesterday. Their house had to be scrutinized because someone in their family went missing and they didn't report it. Don't you think they would have? They aren't merely affected by it either. They walk the same and haven't lost not one shade of their skin. It's pretty inhumane. Please don't let me live alone near these people I don't trust them. I don't even know why you moved so far away. Don't you love me?"

What my mother doesn't understand is that I've tried so hard getting away from her all my life. I was miserable. My teen years were the worse and she wants me to come back to possibly solve a case I'm not even assigned in a town that I hate? I hope everyone I knew there is dead or has moved away because I know I won't be able to see another body from my photographic memory that's still existing.

I think I can make this work though. I'll just go, handle what she wants me to do and continue to live my life.
"Uhh yeah, mom?"
"Yes sweetie?" She says with a concern.
"Um." I take a deep breath.
"I'm packing my bags right now"
"Omg sweetie! Really? You're really coming?"
"Yes mom I'll book a flight today."
She gasps from the other end .
"Thank you so much sweetie."
"Mom stop calling me sweetie."
"Oh I'm sorry I'm sorry I just got a little excited."
God she does this everytime.
"Yeah mom I see."
I also see her smiling blankly from the other end. Pure awkwardness.
"Anyways, I'll talk to you later. I'm supposed to be running errands right now."
"Okay I guess I can let you go... I love you."
"Mom quit with that sap shit."
"SAP WHAT?!?"
"......I love you too"
[click]

I threw my phone and layed back on my bed. Ugh what do I get myself into. Now I have to make an extra trip to the bank to get extra money and.... My case!
I didn't finish my recent case! I totally forgot. Just great. I guess I can take it on the plane with me and finish it while I'm there. This woman is getting me into a lot of stuff already.

My lovely suspect Callaway Aria. 23 years old, born and raised in my state of residence; Arizona. Not far from my home I was close to witnessing this murder. Gun shots sounded like raindrops although no gun wounds. Toppling cars that I imagined as thunder chasing those raindrops but the cars were in great shape to escape.. Some things that were left at the scene were : glass, hair (that ironically isn't hers) and Callaway, with a wrench through her throat. Pretty drastic target situation but that happens around here. I don't feel as ashamed as I should be because well, murders happen. You never hear about them until they're over and about three times in a life time you experience one.

The first time I experienced my first murder I was 8 years of age. I went to Dalton elementary which was in the city so the classroom had a lot of extroverted children. I got bullied by majority of the class and then there was my best friend. His name was Machiah. He was a year younger than me and we went everywhere together. He was the only one that my mom invited over which I was okay with because he was the only person that I needed. Machiah was a cute little boy. We used to climb trees in the summer and try to bite ice cream out of each other's hands before they melted because we purposely sat in the sun. I remember when we would give each other uneven tan lines because he'd always grab my face (which gave me butterflies) and I'd grab his wrists. It was fun because it looked like we were playing a confusing game of twister and we'd then fall asleep on the lawn. We enjoyed summer the most because we didn't have to deal with the people at school; mostly the boys. Plus it felt good. Just to have my best friend by my side all the time. At school we just dealt with it. Each other's company kept me sane and I'm pretty sure it did him the same. We always sat together at school too, at lunch, outside, and in class. Though we were under adult supervision, the boys would still mess with me. Machiah would get fed up when they'd bother with me, not only because they did but because it was consistent. I remember him telling me one day "schya, I can get rid of them for you.. I can." And I had said back to him "No, they only beat me up because I'm smart and my 'smarts' are what they're scared of. It's kind of funny now that I think about it because he knew the real reason as to why they bullied me and it was because I looked like a boy and my body was and still is full of scars from my back to my arms to my legs. They would grab my arms and push me back and forth and playfully ask if it hurt. Which it did because they man handled me. Machiah was always there to run them away and he'd always hug me telling me I was beautiful and he'd beg me to 'take care of them'. I was oblivious at the time but shortly after everything went down I found out he meant effortless murder. But he protected me. He knew I was sensitive and so curious as to how to build the courage to guard my heart. But he eventually showed me how.
After two weeks of complete bullying and Machiah standing up for me this was the last thing he directly told me. He said "I'll steal their hearts for hurting yours." I remember repeatedly asking him what he mean't because at the time I thought it sounded silly but he never spoke about it. The boys bullied me again that day and Machiah yelled and screamed and yelled and screamed "what would something so precious do to you!" And "what on earth would it take for you to leave her alone!" He was standing there heavily with his shoes untied and the boy had got up in his face. The boy said loudly "bite me" and Machiah just took a seat next to me. They were laughing in the background because they saw him as weak for doing that but I never thought Machiah was weak. He was the strongest person in my life. After that, he randomly asked me why do I keep my nails so short and I told him it was because I'd be afraid if they break and so I started to bite them out of habit. He kissed my fingertips and got back to his work which was odd and it left me confused but I eventually knew why he was acting this way.
The next day we got to school late. Well I got to school late. I was so used to going to school with Machiah but he decided to go home the night before instead of my house. When I met him in class everything seemed fine until our lesson was over. The teacher had to go supposedly run some errands. I was just waiting for her to leave so she can come back soon enough. Just as I had assumed, the class started to get crazy and people started throwing paper balls. Machiah started getting angry so he went to his locker. At the time I didn't know where he was going so I asked where but he didn't tell me. I always get nervous when he leaves me so I didn't know what to do.
While he was gone the boys started to harass me with the paper balls because Machiah had left and I knew that was going to happen. They were calling me names like pussy and moonshine boy. I'll  explain moonshine boy later though. Machiah ended up coming back though and his hands were empty so I was questioning or not if he even went to his locker. I remember him standing at the door and him yelling out "Ayo!" He called the boy whatever his name was and said "what's good?" At that point I almost died because little Machiah is the cutest thing when he's angry and I think that's why I was able to find so much comfort in him. The boy turned around and already knew who he was talking to and I wasn't surprised by that because who ever is my enemy, is his. That's when the boy got close to his face and started talking smack to Machiah but he just stood there. Then everyone was crowded around them provoking a fight. I was still sitting down but there was an opening to where I could see. Machiah had jolted towards him and it got really quiet. All you could hear was a whisper from my best friend and he said very slowly "I take my bites in large quantities." The class remained quiet and the boy fell freely to the ground. When that happened I couldn't hear anything because I knew what he had done.
I knew why he took a minute to come back from his locker. Overthinking about his plans and possible mistakes. I could feel him in the hallway that day. Like I was in two bodies at once it made me feel so calm and I don't know if that was a good thing and there was I and Machiah standing over the boy. Machiah was the host and I was the knife being watched from an 8 year old body that didn't have the guts. But his hands did. I was the knife to the boy's heart and all I could think was nothing. I was too busy focused on where his bowel movements were going to go and if the blood was going to stain the floor bad enough or not. Machiah looked up at me so slowly and I wasn't even scared. The aggression that I saw in him that day didn't alarm me not one bit. That was the slowest my heart has ever beat and I won't forget it. The world was moving at a very unhurried pace and I just zoned out. That was when he came over calling my name.
I couldn't exactly hear him but I do recall him saying "schya.... Schya, I told you schya.." The blood from the boy was on his face mixing in with his tears dripping on my khakis and I just sat there. All I could do was breathe. Minutes later the cops came and the teacher never came back. The kids were all gone by then because well they were kids, they weren't going to just sit there. Like me, I stayed and watched my first murder from start to finish until I was forced to leave. That made me understand that he was as crazy as me. We had a connection and I didn't know what it was until then. He never showed that he was violent and I didn't either. But that day he did, and I'm pretty sure wherever he's at now, that he's waiting on my turn and I can desperately feel it.