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Her home looked more like a department store, so many things in so many different colors. I think I was in the living room this time. When I lost consciousness the last few times I woke up in the bathtub with my shoes on. I had to apologize for tracking mud throughout her house. I had gone all over her house somehow, even broke a lamp once. She thought it was funny, she said that he had always hated that lamp. Then she cooked dinner for me, she always cooked me dinner, even if it was not dinner time. She cooked something different every time, anytime she had a recipe to try; I somehow ended up at her home, like today. Dinner was always tasty, today would be no different. Then, I would go home and pretend it never happened.
“You know, you really should stop by more often and I’ll cook something other than dinner.” I sat at the dining room table and she placed my bowl of something down in front of me. The soup smelt so appetizing. My stomach growled, I felt like I have not eaten in days. The thought of eating made my stomach ache. She sat down across from me with her own bowl. She poured another liquid into hers and my glass. She drank from hers, smiled, and motioned for me to eat and drink. So I did. I tasted the drink and almost spit it right out. She laughed, “You still haven’t acquired your taste of wine yet, have you?” I shook my head from side to side. She laughed again. Her laughter really sounded like bells. “You act the same as I first met you, just as cute and childlike. It’s so cute!” It humored her to see a grown woman look like and act like a young child. Wait, when we first met? That was before, before the white room. I was the same? She must have noticed my confusion. “He’d be really happy knowing you are still perfectly adorable.”
“Oh… Thanks.” It felt weird to hear anyone talking about him happily. I guess everyone has to move on.
She laughed, “Oh, sweetie. We would have been sisters by now if that hadn’t happened. So stop by more often. Or better yet, why don’t you stay the night? In an actual bed; I’ve got a great guest room tat has your name written all over it…” She kept talking, but I drowned her out. I was quite good at that. I could only pay attention on sisters. We were going to be sisters? Marriage? He wanted to marry me? No way. That could not have been it.
“How?”
She was taken back, “How what?”
“How could we have been sisters?”
She laughed and pulled something out of her pocket. She spoke softly, “He actually wrote this down. So young and he knew you were it.” Her face was so gentle as she looked at the piece of folded paper in her hand. She must cherish that note as much as she cherished him. The paper was rather old, folded up, and looked very faded. I stared at it with a peculiar interest.
“What is that?” I asked, leaning in closer to the table. She twirled it between her fingers.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I nodded my head rapidly. “I told him he needed to think of what he is going to do with his life and not stay in that white room for the rest of his life. And this is what he wrote. You are on this paper several times, a lot actually.” I am on that paper? What did he write about me? Is it what I think it could be?
“What did he write?”
“A ten year plan.”
“About?”
“How to sweep you off your feet.” She giggled. I sat there completely shocked. “It was a really great plan. Do you want to read it?”
Without a doubt, “Yes.”
“You can’t, according to his plan you can’t see for another five years. I wanted him to write about going to a good college, getting good grades, and a good paying job. And this is what I get, a ten year plan for you.”
“Sorry. I had no idea.”
She laughed, “You definitely would have been a cute sister-in-law. I think I’m just gonna have to adopt you in now.” She was trying to be sweet. She lost her brother, I lost my future. I stood up suddenly, the chair slightly screeched across the floor.
“I should be going now. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” My voice shook. I turned, made a bee line dash for the door and heard her snap her fingers.
 Shy-Star · Sun May 02, 2010 @ 11:17pm · 0 Comments |
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