1 Cup of mashed potatoes
2 Cups of pulled pork, marinated in barbeque sauce
A handful of dill, for garnish
6 Cherry tomatoes
Ink bled onto the papers, forming words and stringing them together as sentences. Well, things certainly don't look as poetic as it sounds while I hastily wrote everything down. Taking a break from writing I looked up and watched the trees swaying in the wind, children laughing with glee while they chased each other with the horrifying fistful of mud and grass.
Things would have been normal, except for the numbers hovering above their tiny heads.
(70~80)
(80~90)
(20~30)
My heart broke seeing the bracket getting smaller. They were all the same. Bold, black and bracketed. I always asked dad why they had numbers on their heads and he brushed it off, thinking it was a phase. But as I grew older, dad realised something was wrong and warned me to never speak about it to anyone except him. But when I let slip and asked mum about it after dad left us, she held it against me and screaming how I am a demon child, ruining her life. How I was the cause of my father's leaving.
I shook my head, not wanting to let it become a distraction. The fresh air provided me with a sense of freedom from the four-walled prison I called home. The bruise near my ribs still ached with each breath I took though it's been almost a week since the incident. Dale had tried to peek into the toilet while I bathed and I threw a shampoo bottle at him on reflex, something I shouldn't have done. I may have managed to wear my clothes before he tried again, but I still ended up being his punching bag, just as he always said.
"So I guess living around here brings people closer huh?" A voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Grey eyes." I spoke aloud, not realising until I saw the amused smile on his face. Blushing I moved, allowing him to sit.
"Grey eyes huh? Maybe that will be our little secret. Don't you think so, little brown?" He teased, still blushing I looked everywhere but him, hoping to recall his name.
"Well, I hope I won't be repeating myself, but my name's Arden." He smiled, trying to break the ice again. "So what brings you out here? It's," he checked his watch, "Half past ten in the morning. And this park is what a twenty-minute walk from where we live." He asked.
"Well I rode my bike out here," gesturing to the bicycle, "and I have work later," I added. I did have work, just not this early. Maybe say, three hours' time.
He nodded in understanding while I packed. "Wait where are you going?"
"Gee I don't know, my workplace maybe?" He laughed, I was being too careless.
"Well, why don't I walk you to your workplace, Ms feisty? And maybe you can tell me more about this small town." He grinned and stood up, holding out a hand for me. Staring at his open palm, I contemplated about the last time I made friends and decided to take it. Not that I had many friends to begin with.
The gravel crunched under our feet as we walked to the town square. He helped push my bicycle while I explained about the small town of Davenport. The town square was an area with a grocery store where we usually get our basic necessities from, seeing how far the mall was from my house. Then there was Level One that I worked at. Pies, pastries, main dishes, you name it we probably have it. There was a florist, although I don't know who actually buys flowers from the shop. And lastly, a rather large gift shop that sells all sorts of trinkets and toys.
"Well, why aren't you working at the mall instead? I'm sure you'd be earning more." His eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as I was halfway through introducing the town square.
I shrugged and shook my head, "I didn't think too much about it. I mean the mall?" I shrugged, "I don't know where you're from but everyone knows the rich kids frequent the place. If I worked there, I wouldn't hear the end of it in school. For being a 'peasant' and all that." He nodded and seemed to have taken this bit of information to heart.
"But-" I stopped myself, why did I care so much about how he felt? He was new and he would probably join the popular girls and guys in school when the break was over. I looked into the warm grey eyes of his and shook my head, continuing with the history lesson.
"A beach! We have a beach here?" Arden exclaimed, with excitement I've never seen in an eighteen-year-old. In the walk, not only did I learn that Arden and his brother moved in with their grandmother, Annalise, but that his parents were on a holiday around the world and didn't want to leave them alone so they ended up living with their grandmother. Although his lips did pull up in a half smirk when he mentioned his parents.
"Yeah, the beach is an hour and a half drive from here. Why are you so excited anyway?" I mused, shaking off the thought.
"Well, I'll have you know I'm an excellent surfer." He winked.
"Well, I can barely swim." I scoffed.
"Wha- No, I'll have to teach you. I'll bring you to the beach and teach you swimming and surfing, no arguments. You'll love it!" He added after hearing my protest. He carried on talking about how he was excited to teach me everything he knew. Not wanting to crush his happiness I rolled my eyes and nodded at his words.
"Arden!" A boy, almost a replica of Arden, ran up to us. "You have got to see this, they have this trinket shop that has almost everything you can imagine. And-" He stopped talking and stared at me, his mouth formed an 'o'.
"Laura! So happy to see you here, you were with Arden? What are you guys doing?" Grey eyes 2.0 started rambling. And all I could do was just comb my brain for what his name was.
"His name is Alex." Arden whispered in my ear, "just a tip before you call him grey eyes two." He grinned at me.
"O-oh yeah. H-Hey Alex. Yeah, I saw Arden at the park, well he saw me and I was showing him the town square which I guess you've found." Alex nodded, "Maybe you can bring Arden around, I have to get to work soon."
"Oh right, we shouldn't hold you up. Maybe we can catch up with each other soon. After all, we do live next to each other." Arden offered me a smile, nodding I took my bike and left them.
********************
"Laura! You're early, your shift doesn't start till one dear." Lynn exclaimed, "did something happen at home?" Worry laced her voice and her eyes darted to my arms to check for bruises.
"No, no. I'm fine. Nothing happened. I just decided to come early. But if it isn't a hassle can I still start at one, I'm kind of tired." I smiled weakly at her.
"Sure no problem. You know your way to the back room. Let me know if you need anything alright?" She smiled then shooed me into the backroom. I put down my bag and dug out my earpiece.
I started humming along to George Ezra's It's Just My Skin, letting the singer's deep voice lull over while I thought about what happened in the morning. All I did was spend time with Arden, I found out more things about him then he did with me. Even his number-
I sat upright and froze at the sudden thought.
I didn't see a number. I shook my head, no there has to be a mistake. There shouldn't be a person without a number.
It's impossible.
Everyone has a death date, everyone dies in the end. Why? Why did he not have a number?
The onset of an attack began with the flood numbers that flashed past my eyes. Every single person I've come to know and seen coupled with their respective numbers exploded in a myriad of colours and numbers bleeding into each other.
I was keeled over with my head in my hands, trying to not scream from the pressure. I breathed heavily trying to regain my composure and I felt it ebb away, like a wave it came and went away in spasm until the throbbing stopped. It's been years since the last attack. My head was light, and I was unable to move an inch, the physical effects of an attack sucked.
I'm sure I didn't see a number. But maybe I missed it, but it's impossible. My breath caught in my throat and I fought to keep it down before it triggered another attack.
I had to calm down. There had to be an explanation.
There had to be.