Memory

Chapter Twelve- Dimitri

 

When I enter the house, I stop myself from announcing my arrival, for no one lives in this house except for me. I drop my house keys on the table in front of the T.V, flinging my bookbag in some direction, and I put the groceries away quickly.

Once I’m done, I drop myself onto the couch. I take the remote from behind my back, then I shake my head and put it on the table in front of me.

Everything seems to be boring when I’m home alone.

Getting up, I climb up the stairs to my room. Opening my bedroom door, I immediately fling myself onto my bed. I lay facedown on it, not bothering with changing into my sleepwear for now.

What’s going on with me? Why am I being so... boring? I mean, I could be playing video games right now. But something is nagging at me, and I can’t really focus on anything except on the things that actually need to be done.

I feel my phone poking at my thigh in my pocket, and I shift so I can take it out. Gazing at it in my hands, I wonder what Trystan is doing.

Wait! I have her number! Maybe she can reply to a text message.

Unlocking my phone, I go to my recent calls. Seeing Trystan’s number, I tap the icon that indicates to send a message. My messaging app opens up, and I type into the text box,

 

hey, how you’re doing over there? guys treating you good?

 

I wait for it to send, and when it does, I get up from the bed. I slip off my pants and my shirt, then I walk into the bathroom. I splash water onto my face, running some through my hair. Drying my face gently with my hand towel, I set my clothes on my bedpost, leaving me in only my boxers.

Climbing up on the bed again, I lay on my back and await Tristan’s reply.

My phone vibrates a few seconds after I lay on the bed. I twist onto my stomach, and I take the phone and read her reply.

 

i’m fine, Dimitri. borderline fine. just about to stir up some trouble.

 

I frown. Stirring up trouble? What does she mean by that?

Hopefully no one is messing with my hot-tempered friend. I text her in reply to her text,

 

okay, do what you got to do. i’ll talk to you later.

 

Her reply is simple:

 

okay, bye.

 

I shrug, then set my phone on my pillow. By trouble, I hope that she was referring to anything that she’d regret.

I unlock my phone again to check the time. Then I get up to go use the bathroom. I then climb into the bathtub to take a long, very hot shower. Perhaps the rhythmic spray of water can help relax my from worrying about Trystan.

 

When I come out from the shower with a long towel wrapped around me, a rapid knocking comes at my door. My heart skips a beat, and I freeze in my tracks.

Is it the police again?

No, it can’t be. The news reporter only said the parents; not the children!