Voices

c h a p t e r 1 1 : c a l m

L o u i s a

"I was left to my own devices. Many days fell away with nothing to show." - Pompeii, Bastille

I glance at you beside me

Wind blowing through your hair

Eyes sparkling with passion

And a smile that can light the world.

If only it could light up mine as well.

*

"Ready to go?" Basil asks just as I enter the kitchen.

"Wait. Go where?" I reply, confused, approaching the counter that he's leaning against.

He looks at me, feigning hurt, bringing a hand to his chest for emphasis. "Didn't I tell you to keep today off?"

"Oh, right," I say, chuckling.

I was hoping he'd forget about it. I really don't feel up to doing anything right now. But it's too terrifying to decline his offer or get out of it now. What if he thinks I'm weird or a horrible person or just plain rude? I guess I'll just have to power through it and tolerate it. Again. Like I always do whenever I'm around people.

Wear a mask, smile and wave.

Isn't that always the case?

"Grab your stuff. We're leaving in about fifteen minutes," Basil commands before practically sprinting up the stairs and disappearing from sight.

I take a mug from the drawer and pour some coffee from the coffee jug into it, adding a spoonful of sugar and no milk. I place the mug on the kitchen island to allow the hot coffee to cool down before climbing the stairs myself, heading down the hallway and towards the guest room right at the end.

"Oh, and Lou?" Basil starts, opening the room door from across my room and sticking his head out, looking at me with his bright eyes. "Don't forget to bring some extra clothes and a towel."

"But Basil, why?" I begin, but it's already too late.

He's closed the door and locked himself back inside his room.

Please don't tell me this is what I think it is.

I enter my room and open the top drawer of the closet to my right, the only drawer in this room that I use to store my things, despite Aunt Annabelle's pleas to 'use what I want' and to 'make myself at home', and remove what Basil told me to bring. I decide to bring a white halter-neck shirt and black shorts. I hope I don't regret this choice of outfit.

I snatch my notebook, black pen and bottle off my bedside table and place all the items into my bag by the foot of the bed, zipping it and hoisting it up, wearing the purple backpack over both shoulders.

Changing my mind just as I am about to leave the room, I remove the shirt and replace it with a navy, elbow length sleeve shirt. As much as I love halter-necks, I know I'll feel very self conscious when I wear it.

I'm just not beautiful enough to pull it off.

I step out of the bedroom and close the door behind me before going back to the kitchen to finish my coffee.

I can't function without caffeine, considering I barely get any sleep every night.

I sit on the stool by the island, and, placing my bag on the floor beside me, I hold the warm mug with both hands and take a sip. The coffee is cooler now, compared to when I had just poured it out from the coffee pot and it's much easier to drink. I'm not the kind of person who can gulp down scalding liquids and I'll never be able to understand those people.