You ran your little legs upstairs.
It was like your excitement was what truly tipped the glass over the edge. Different objects flew into your suitcase as your mind controlled their movements. Books, paper cranes, and masks were piled on top of each other as to show the symbolic stack of a hidden tragedy, just like fate, the freedom of love, and deceit. Maybe everything was just so twisted that you couldn't be any wiser. It would most definitely set you up for failure, blindly walking down a black path following a red string to attain the absence of good luck. But at the same time it sealed whatever story you had been writing and placed a scorpion on the cover.
But why were you in such a rush to stumble out the door? Did your house not really feel like home? Were you searching for a different ending? That, no one would ever truly know. The love story you were hoping for was falling more and more into place. The puppets on the sidelines could finally watch and marvel at how graceful you spun on the dance floor, either in confusion or love, and sipped from a glass half empty. It was truly a spectacular sight.
Exhausted, you laid down on your bed and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Your door opened instead, and you felt the sheets move as another being sat on the edge.
"Hey," he said. "You finished packing?"
"Yeah," you muttered. "Everything's put away now. Anything I'll need is in the bag on the floor."
Were you really that prepared?
The ceiling looked as if the sky was opening up and the moon was ready to shed light onto the scene. Truly beautiful, indeed. Little grains of incandescent salt represented tender stars falling into place as they fell into the chipped cup sitting on your nightstand. Jeff took the glass in his hands and stared at the slogan on the side. But you knew nothing of the chipped cup. No, you had no clue of how it got there or of how such an item was still ways away from the dump of lost memories. It spoke to you, but it had no words to say.
Jeff played with the cup in his hands and said, "I really hope this works." His eyes remained on the missing piece and his voice was stiff and still.
"I hope so too," you muttered. "But is there another reason why?"
He glanced at the floor in front of him and then at you. "Why we're about to travel the world together?"
"It can't be that you just want me to remember everything, can it? I mean, you don't seem like the type-"
"That just 'cause you don't know me yet. I swear, it has to make you remember something," he said, standing while his head hung by a thread. "At least the good times."
"There were bad times?" you asked.
That line was able to freeze his entire body and send chills up his spine. His face seemed to shake as he stared at the window leading to the woods behind your house where wolves and various beings waited for an answer. They were killing him with pressure, stomping their claws all over his ears. He had to say something.
"Don't you know that quiescence is the loudest noise you'll ever hear?"
And the room was even more silent on his command.
Yes, silence is bliss. And it is the most horrific sound one could imagine. The silence of the open sea is enough to make anyone go crazy and dive into the harrowing saltwater without a doubt of death or certainty at all. Fishermen can never find peace when they battle the waves trying to sink their ship under the shallow tar consuming the bottoms of their boat, adding mercury to their weekly catch. The world is covered in ocean, but the people try to consume it. They just don't understand that habits are habits, and they won't be able to last without them when faced with patience and outlast.
"Anyway, I figured out why that clock downstairs ticks so loud," Jeff stated. "That thing was driving me insane."
You just couldn't shake the feeling...
"Why?"
"It had something wrong with the internal-"
"No," you sighed. "I mean about why you don't like it."
"Well," Jeff started, "it reminded me of something appalling."
Deadlines are pretty gruesome. No one had ever heard of something more off-setting than a clock reminding you of an approaching date. But it still made you wonder why Jeff was so affected. He was always so strange. And maybe that wasn't a good "first impression" in any way, but maybe the situation was getting to his head. Could you have been the cause of the impromptu personality change? Still, this guy was so caring for you.
He took your hand. "I'm sure you think I'm pretty appalling."
"Not at all," you whispered as you slipped out of your dreamland.
The room was a bit dimmer than you remembered.
"Are we a tragedy?" you asked to the open. "Why do I keep hearing that word in my head?"
Jeff set the cup down on the nightstand as it wobbled in an endless circle. "Hey, why do you always do that? Why do you keep out that same cup to use later?"
You didn't want to waste them. Getting a new glass every time you felt parched would clog the dishwasher. Was there something wrong with that? It was as if you were on trial, maybe. You were always on trial with him. And you were supposed to be the one asking questions, for God's sake. You knew nothing. But somehow you knew why you clutched onto feelings for a long time before letting them go.
"I haven't seen you eat at all," you said to him.
He chuckled. "Is there something wrong with that?"
That was too similar. It was the same reasoning. But how would he even have known? It's not like he could climb into your mind and extract every blessing you say to yourself, right? Again with the paranormal stuff... And you never believed in anything other than willpower.
"We have to get up early, so we should probably get to sleep. It's already pretty late," Jeff said.
"Yeah," you agreed.
The night passed slower than an eternity due to the clock downstairs ticking obnoxiously again. It started to get on your nerves too. You had been asleep with full consciousness for over four hours already, and the rain and wind playing with the trees outside made it completely nonviable to rest. After a day filled with surprises, you loathed the thought of acting as a detective and trying to figure out how to stop the constant echo from reaching your room, but you knew it must be done.
You slipped out of your covers and kept the light off so that you wouldn't disturb the rest of the house. But as you tip-toed towards the door, you realized that the hallway light was on. And that was when you heard the faint conversation that was just beyond the wall. It was hard to hear, so you perched your head against the door and silenced your breathing.
"She's in that room."
Was that Jeff? It sure did sound like him. Then another person began to speak. This one sounded like a girl.
"You've already done enough. You should just let me handle it."
"Jane," Jeff said.
Who the hell was Jane? And what were they talking about? Were they talking about you? Wait... Why did Jeff let someone else in your house?! Well, you already allowed one "stranger" to stay, but this girl didn't seem friendly. Who were you supposed to trust if the one person you woke up staring at had already broken a bond smaller than fate?
"I swear to God, I'll murder you if you don't get the fuck out of this house," Jeff stated, forcefully pushing the girl back. Or, that's what it sounded like.
"She will find out," Jane said a little louder.
Then there was silence. You tried to lean onto the door only to have it open in your face. You fell backwards and yelped as your butt hit the hard floor beneath you. Jeff stood in the doorway in front of the light, so you only saw the shadow of his crazed expression on the wall. He then asked about exactly how much you heard of his heartfelt conversation.
You stared up at him, a shocked look on your face. "I- I didn't hear anything- I swear!" you cried. You were frightened at that moment. Something wasn't right. You were scooting backwards, trying to get up and away from him.
"I know you heard it all," he said as he began to pull something out of the pocket of his hoodie. After studying its silhouette, you screamed.
He clamped his hand over your mouth.
"Don't worry. It's just medicine," he muttered.
He stuck a needle in your arm.