» Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye. «
✧ Johnny Orlando ✧
☼
When I hear my name being called out from the kitchen, I chuck my phone on my bed and head downstairs lightly. My barefeet are numb as they graze the hardwood floor in our hallways. Today, it's been pretty chilly, and the snow's been falling steadily around our house for the past two hours now. I'm more than greatful for the blankets that we have stowed away for occasions like this, and the warm air our heaters provide. Couple that with numerous hot chocolates and a day of bingewatching netflix, I've had a pretty good day. A show about insomnia provided reassurance to me when I remembered that Mackenzie is coming tonight and that I won't lie awake for hours with thoughts spiralling like beads in a kaledioscope.
"How much do you want?" My Mum asks, referring to dinner, as she precariously balances two bowls on her arm.
"I'll have the soup. No chicken. I'm vegetarian now, remember?"
"That's right." She smiles back, eyes twinkling.
She hands the plate back to me, and I thank her before moving to get a spoon and some bread. After sitting down at the table I dig in, complimenting Mum's cooking with a mumble. Dad makes a sound of appreciation, and I smile and shake my head at him as he dribbles soup down his chin.
Mum thwaks him on the arm. "Dale, that's not good manners." She says, supressing a grin and instead reprimanding him.
I tip my head back and laugh. He hits her back, jokingly, and they smile at each other. Now, I roll my eyes. Stupid. They're so in love; it's gross.
We finish the meal in silence, and I thank my parents when I'm finished. After putting my bowl in the dishwasher, I head upstairs once again. I'm in the middle of throwing socks onto my cold feet when my phone starts to vibrate and spew out my ringtone. I head over to it, a little clumsily, and end up banging my little toe on the corner of my nightstand. Howling in pain, I swipe my phone off my dresser and shut my eyes tight, trying to keep the tears away.
"Hi?" I say as an accidental question. "I mean, hi. Who's this?"
"Hey." A small voice says from the other end of the phone. "It's Kenzie, on my home phone." After her sentence, she sniffs.
"Oh." I breathe out, confused as to why she's calling me. "Is everything alright?"
She sniffs again. "Not really. Far out. I swore I wouldn't do this." She then sighs softly, voice thick.
"Do what?" I ask, getting a little frantic. Worry blossoms in my chest.
"I– can you come here, to mine, tonight? Instead of me going to yours?"
"Of course–what's wrong?"
She sniffs again. "I get migranes from time to time. I just... need you– someone, tonight."
A pang of worry hits my gut. I've heard of migranes before; on of my mates from my old basketball team used to get them from dehydration and stress. The headaches would leave him bed-ridden for hours, asleep, in pain, and drugged to the max. They sounded horrible, and had a massive effect on his life. "Where do you live? I ask finally, moving to slip on my slides and grabbing a leather jacket from the back of my chair.
"Gladson Road, number seventeen. It's down past my high school." She tells me quietly.
"Okay. Do you have... medication or anything?"
"Yeah." She sighs. "I just need some help with getting to sleep."
"Okay." I say again, exhaling.
"You can stay the night– if you want. I know you won't sleep on your own, and I really do care about that. You need sleep just as much as I do anyway." She whispers.
"Oh," I slowly say, insides twisting like someones swirling them around with a fork. "Thanks Mackenzie. I... will."
"Okay. Bye Johnny. See you soon."
"See you soon.." I confirm, trying to stop the smile that's spreading across my features. "Bye."
She cares about my wellbeing. She cares about me.
☼
Mackenzie's house stands tall and proud in the middle of her street. It's painted a sandy colour; a greying yellow, and objects like bikes and scooters and shoes and balls and frisbees are strewn throughout her front yard in a precarious way. On her front porch, a couch is resting with a blanket hazardously strewn across it and books are stacked on a side table. A bright garden with flowers and plants scattered all around catches my eye, and I take particular notice of the dark red roses as Mackenzie told me they were her favourite flower in our game of twenty one questions.
Her house, to put it simply, looks like a place people have fun in.
Thankfully I arrived here very fast and my parents didn't object to me coming at all; I got my drivers license last year, and anyway, they love Mackenzie.
After taking in Kenzie's entire house with curious eyes, I finally shut my car off and get out onto the pavement. Brushing my hair out of my face, I lock the car and begin to walk up the front path, dodging various items as I go.
I hold my hand out to knock on the door and just as my hand is about to make contact with the wood the door is flung open and porch light switched on. A girl, taller than me, that looks about twenty, stands on the threshold holding a finger to her lip. Her hair is dark but light at the ends and her bright blue doe-like eyes are the dominant feature in her face. All in all, she looks exactly like Mackenzie but with different eyes.
"Hi." She greets me quietly. "I know who you are. You're Johnny. I'm Maddie."
"Hi Maddie." I smile tentatively, shyly, feeling my cheeks heat up. And then; "I know who you are too."
She laughs quietly. "Come in, I'll take you to Kenzie's room. Mind the shoes, sorry."
I step around the haul of gumboots and heels and sneakers and jandals and sandals and slippers that are just inside the doorway, taking in the details of her house as much as I can. Paintings of what I deem 'people' are stuck to the walls, a mishmash of shapes and colour, and a hallway leads to the heart of their house with doors on either side.
"By the way, we're quiet because the little ones are in bed. Jack and James. I'm sure Mackenzie's told you about them, since you spend so much time together." She tells me as she leads us through the compact house.
I find myself nodding and murmuring in confirmation, slipping back to the awkward Johnny. The Johnny that's shy and polite. Maddie seems to be very different to her sister; she's good at making conversation with randoms and even more comfortable meeting new people.
"Do you sleep better, you know, with Kenzie?" She asks me boldly, throwing her hair behind her shoulder to look at me as we walk.
Yeah... she's definitely not like Mackenzie. She's definitely not shy.
"Yeah." I nod kindly. "She helps. Now I help her, I suppose."
She smiles softly back at me, and stops outside a grey door. "This is her room. See you in the morning. Thanks for helping."
"It's okay." I murmur, watching her leave before pushing open the door to Mackenzie's room as quietly as possible. I survey the room, straining my eyes to see throught the dark. Two beds are in the room, one duvet grey and the other a bright blue. A window sits in the middle of one wall but they view outside is blocked by navy curtains that have stars embroidered on them. Mackenzie's lying in one bed, and her sister sitting on another.
"Hiya." I say, giving Kenzie a small, and awkward, smile.
"Hi." She replies.
I lean against a wall awkwardly, self-conscious with her sister in her room. "Ash, you have to go now. Please?" Mackenzie asks.
"Why?" Ashley whisper-yells back at her sister, looking at me and then quickly away.
"I want to sleep with John. Is that so hard to understand?" Mackenzie sighs.
Ashley does a double take, eyebrows furrowing and the corner of her mouth twitching.
"Fuck." Mackenzie whispers. "Not like that, I didn't mean it like that." She then tells me.
"It's okay." I say to her while blushing, but all I can think about is how pretty she made cursing sound.
Ashley leaves soon after with a small smile gracing her lips. She's shaking her head.
I tentatively walk to the end of her bed and sit there, feet still resting on the ground. Mackenzie flicks a lamp on, wincing.
"Does it hurt your eyes? The light?" I ask quietly.
"Not really." She lets out a small breath. "It hurt more this morning when I actually had the headache."
I nod slowly. "So you're better now?"
"A lot," She starts, "But it still fucking hurts."
I laugh slowly, savouring the sound of her quiet giggles. She doesn't laugh often.
"I– do... Do you want to go to sleep now, or..." I stutter, tangling my hands together.
"You can come lie." She says quietly. "But is it okay if we talk a bit?"
"It's okay." I reply, pulling my feet up off the ground and moving beside her. I came in light grey sweatpants and a slightly darker hoodie, so I'm not restricted or uncomfortable as I stretch out beside her.
"I thought I signed up for The Professional Cuddler so I could get some money. But... I don't think I did anymore. I think, subconsciously, I wanted to help people that can't sleep becuase I know how it feels... You know?" She asks, turning her wide and blinking brown eyes to mine.
I think for a while, replying quietly after I've contemplated a few things. "I thought I signed up because I wanted the sleep. Now I think it was because I wanted a normal life back."
"Wanted?" She questions.
"Huh?" I ask.
"You said wanted, not want. You said you wanted a normal life back."
I let this sentence hang in the air, and a silence settles. Minutes pass. Our sides touch gently.
"You've really helped me, Kenz." I let a tense breath escape. "But I don't really know what normal is anymore."
I look across at her. She tucks her hair behind her ear, but misses a tendril. I carefully draw my hand across her cheek and push the lonely strand back.
She smiles with closed lips, looking sad. "I'm not normal."
"Neither." I sigh, slotting our fingers together and drawing her closer to me without thought.
Touching Mackenzie is easy. Talking to her is easier still. But feeling empathy for her? That only comes in her most vunerable and un-guarded moments– such as now. Right now, my heart aches for the girl who's suffered hours of pain and is left questioning the kindness of the world.
Her dark hair spreads across the pillow as she shuffles to get closer to me. I notice with a jolt that her shirt has ridden up so when my hands find her waist, they're skimming her bare skin. She shivers a little. Small goosebumps arise on my skin when her fingers touch the nape of my neck.
"I don't want to get paid for doing this, not anymore." She mumbles into my chest. "We're friends. I'll do it to help you."
"That's a lot to ask." I whisper back, and then, "Why do you get migranes?"
"Stress."
"Anything else?"
"Fatigue." She sighs, breath tickling my skin.
"You've been missing sleep for me, haven't you?"
"Not really... It only takes me half an hour to walk home."
"You've been walking home?" I question, incredelous. "Have you heard about the fucking murders?"
She's silent.
"If you don't want to get paid, you at least have to stay the night at my house." I say in a scarily calm voice. "I don't want you in the dark at night. No way."
"Okay." She replies.
I run a hand through her hair then, which makes her smile softly. A nervous, twisted-up feeling invades my gut. We're holding hands, cuddling, and I'm playing with her hair.
She turns the lamp off with her free hand, signalling that it's time for us to close our eyes. We do, and not long after, she falls asleep; before me for once.
When the butterflies disappear, I kiss her temple and whisper "sweet dreams." She sighs blissfully, and I drift into unconsciosness with a smile on my face.
☼
[2507 words]
I hope you guys liked this chapter, I really did put a lot of time into it. I would apologise for not updating, but it's actually not my fault, lol. You guys know that the faster you get a chapter to 200 votes, the faster I will post :) I kinda got sick of people demanding new chapters a long time ago, so if you do, I'll simply delete the comment & mute you. xo
Migranes are something I personally struggle with, so here's a lil tiny rant/explanation about why I decided to include them in my book.
Firstly, some of you are probably confused on what they even are, so here's a real quick youtube video:
I decided to include migranes in my story because they are a disorder that I currently am struggling with. I've never really liked talking about them before, but lately I've gotten used to it. So many things in my life are stressing me out; unfortunately, stress is my trigger. My friends will probably remember me asking for help a while ago.
Basically, what I really want to make clear is that my life is crazy and hectic and busy without wattpad. I know it's just a reading app, but I found that stressing out over writing new chapters was not helping my wellbeing at all. Please don't put pressure on me to update. If you want me to make a cover, fine, but I have to do it in my own time. If you need some help, use some initiative and check my tips book– it's there for a reason!
I normally am a very positive person, but migranes have been really getting me down lately. A lot of the time I get migranes and the only thing I feel like is a hug. I felt like it fitted into the story nicely.
My tiny rant is over now :)
QOTC: Do you get migranes or know someone that gets them? How do you manage stress?
AOTD: Managing stress for me is as simple as talking to someone about it. Most of the time, thats my internet friends, so ty guys for that <3 I also like to spend time with people and friends in general because that really helps me forget my worries.