Scrape

34. Outside

My hands shook, and I wearily eyed my surroundings. Obviously, nobody was in the room, otherwise I would have felt it. I was sure I would have. My dusty footprints led a guilty trail directly to me, and I scuffed them out on the floor. Then, I arose like nothing had happened; after all, what was the point? This letter was probably months old, and intended for my mother. Why should I be afraid?

I repeated this logic in my mind as I calmed my breathing and beating heart, and gathered my courage to visit the local store down the road: pouch of money in one of the pockets of the thick brown dress I'd changed into. It wasn't a particularly cold night, but as I reached the store, I began to feel my hands becoming more frigid. The woman behind the counter saw me, and handed me gloves to wear. When I tried to pay her, she neglected the money. Instead, she told me:

"Merry Christmas."

I hadn't realized it was Christmas time; too many things had occurred in the short half-year I'd transferred to the school which had ruined my life completely and utterly. Even as I thanked her, and paid for some food(the only supplies in the house were mouldy) my mind was distant and far away. As I turned to leave the shop, the glass reflected my figure. I was very dishevelled, and unkempt. To be honest, I looked a little like a tramp, so that was probably why the woman had provided me with free gloves.

I cautiously padded back to the house. It was dark, and no moon was in the sky. Clouds covered the entirety of it, however, giving it a dark yet creamy texture. I began shivering, although I did not yet know why, instead hurrying to the tepid warmth of my home. Inside, I began cooking some cheap noodles I'd found at the shop, and then sat at the wooden table, eating them messily with a fork and no table manners. Once I'd finished that, I went up to bed groggily, throwing myself onto the black covers and falling asleep.

Once again, I woke in the morning with no dream - although I'd mentioned to Manna that they disturbed me and my sleep so he'd probably stopped - and slept in completely. A rustic digital alarm clock nearby reminded me it was now 1PM. I'd been tired. And it was the first Christmas I'd spent alone.

Although I had the sordid feeling it would not be the last.

I remembered a time when I had enjoyed Christmas so much that I couldn't sleep whatsoever the night before, clutching my teddy bear and whispering to it joyous and wonderous things which I could possibly receive the next day. It was the time of year when mum would buy me something from a list I'd give her of items. Many times multiple presents were under the sickly pine tree in the kitchen, and I'd rip into them, crying in sheer thankfulness of the seasonal holiday and gifts.

Now, the whole scenario seemed a complete overreaction. The things I'd often craved did not last long, or were materialistic. Perhaps I'd been a different person, who enjoyed the less finer things in life, because I'd take anything I could get. Yet, today I was me. A strong and independent young woman, who did not need a man to complete her.

As I lifted my hand up whilst still lying on my back as though catching the penultimate rays of sunlight, a voice reminded me that I was in fact not alone, or independent.

"Hey." Manna eased into my mind slowly, like a growing tingle.

"What's up?" I spoke aloud, as I knew nobody would listen and think I was strange.

"I just wanted to see how you were. Your dreams have been looking very gloomy recently. You DO realize when you get sad, it rains?"

"I don't particularly remember being sad," I retorted, hopping off the side of my bed and making my way downstairs.

"You may not notice, but your soul feels it. It's already taken too much damage; take care of yourself!" He insisted.

"Okay; okay, Mr Perfect!" I caved in, as the heart on my chest buzzed in embarrassment.