I breathed in and out as I lay in bed. Behind my eyelids, a black screen rolled. No movements, no images. No sounds. I always dreamed in black. Just black. My eyelids flitted open to the dim lit room. Beside me, under my elbow which crushed into his chest, is Kanute. He never falls asleep like I can. I twirl my fingers into his short, thick raven black locks and I tug gently on the beautiful strands. He chuckles.
“good morning,” I say. My voice needing to be cleared.
“good morning,” he says. There was no evidence of sleep in his voice like there was in mine. His was crystal clear and smooth. A bit deep and rocky.
I sat up on my elbow, still pressed into his chest. He didn’t seem to feel it ride deeper into the dent on his upper body, or he didn’t mind it. He sat up until his back was against the headboard. His arm wrapped around my waist, making me lean into him. Pulling close against his clothed self. I shook off the cold, as if I was expecting his body to warm me up like the fireplace downstairs. Or as if he was a coat wrapping itself around me.
“what do you like for breakfast?” he asks. I freeze up at this question. I don’t have a particular favorite food.
“anything is good for me,” I say.
“I don’t have any human food around,” he says. “so you will want to seek elsewhere for breakfast.”
I slide my hand under the covers and pull the sheets up to our collarbones.
“I am not that hungry, anyway,” I say. And I was honest.
Kanute knocks the covers off him and gets halfway off the bed. His bare feet hit the floor. I feel a sting of rejection panting inside me. I pout, my cheeks poking out. He slips his feet into navy blue converse. He stands up and throws his black hoody on, putting his arms through the sleeves. He looks at me, uncaringly.
“you have to leave now,” he says. The volume of his voice is very low.
I debate his words in my head and ultimately I don’t like them. I refuse them. I lay my head on the pillow. And stare at nothing.
“you can’t stay here,” he says, again in his low volume. “not with me.” He turns to the door and walks out. I look behind me to the window. It is covered by a large thick dull blanket. Blocking the faint icy sunlight. I crash my head back on the pillow and violently squeeze my eyes shut. I open them and I feel a group of tears lingering on my eyelashes, dampening my obsidian stones. I hate to lay and cry in bed. I tear the covers off me and jump out of bed. I leave the room and open the doors on both sides of the hallways until I find the bathroom. The little square shaped mirror holds in it my reflection. My reluctant stare. My stubborn face. I wipe my eyes with both my hands and shake the tears off my fingers. Then I fill the bathtub with scolding hot water. Because that’s how I like my bath. I rip myself from my clothes and hover one toe over the steaming pool, letting it eventually touch the water. I slowly release the rest of my body, little by little, into the liquid fire. I pull my knees up to my chest and breath in and out. My body shivers at the sound of knocks at the door. Three of them.
“when are you leaving?” Kanute asks. His beautiful voice now a distorted muffle behind the door. I do not speak.
“Rebecca,” he says. I flinch away from his distorted voice. And I give no answer to his calling. I lean my head back. My neck is on the hard smooth rim of the tub which is iced over by condensation. I close my eyes and I hear his feet walking away from the door.
“good bye,” I whisper to myself.
I lift my hand from the water, flicking drops into the air. The silence was menacing. It irked me. I wooshed my body around in the bath, just to hear anything, something. Water flowed over the rim and splattered on the light blue bathroom floor tiles. The air, then, suddenly filled with a faint scent. My inhaled with my lips pressed together. The weird aroma flew up my nose and I wished I could spit it back out. The scrent deepened in the air. Becoming a rusty smell. I stand up and put my foot on the tile floor. I cover my nose while I pick up my clothes and leave the bathroom. I walk to the bedroom and discover the door has been locked. Excellently and horribly surprised by this, i pull on the doorknob, twisting and yanking it. I bang on the door twice and loud, needlessly. I dress myself outside the room, out in the open hallway. I walk to the staircase and I look down before I take a step. My breath is caught in my throat and I step back and lean my back on the wall. I listen to the sounds of a muffled male voice struggling to speak. The image I saw comes when I close my eyes. Kanute on his knees. A man in his tight grip. Forcibly giving up his life’s elixir. I hear the strange and terrifyingly tantalizing slurping sound. I know it is coming from Kanute’s lips and why it sounds so haunting and eerie. My chest pumps and the back of my body cling to the wall as if I had been glued there. The old muffled voice stops and I hear it no longer. There is silence for a moment and then a very soft, low moan. Like a child in pain or sickness. I whip my head around the corner and stand at the top of the stairs. Kanute is on his knees on the floor. The man lay lifeless and twisted before him. Kanute wraps his arms around his own abdomen. His chin and his mouth are bloody. His cold ice blue eyes look up at me. They look lost and hurt, and the color has faded somehow.the blue sapphires I knew before were now like aquamarine gemstones. I linger helpless myself at the top of the staircase. I don’t see a demon or a devil. I see a boy in pain.
He continues to stare at me with his pained eyes. I rush down the steps and stop at the man’s body. My feet barely touching him.
“what’s wrong?” I beg, helpless but wanting to help him in any way.
“I think his blood is bad,” Kanute says. His eyes rolling upward, looking at me.
“oh,” I say, not understanding what that could ever mean. Desperation full in my voice. My panic. “you’re gonna be okay though.. right?”
Another childlike moan belts from his mouth. “what can I do?” I ask.
“nothing,” he manages to say. He pressed his hands on his thighs. “I’ll be fine.” He inhales his words.
“go..” he says in his low voice. I stand there. My panic has me frozen at the talk of the word. I can’t move, though I really want to. “GO!” he shouts at me, his louder voice pushing me out of my frozen state. I scramble towards the door. I look back at him, my hand on the doorknob. I find myself staring at the corpse on the floor. “don’t worry about him. I’ll clean up,” Kanute says. His normal voice almost back. I open the door and walk out into the icy atmosphere. I shut it quickly and stare up at the cold sun. it looks like an egg yolk. And the purely white clouds hanging around it remind me of eggshells. Shock was still with me. My stomach growled and my hand flew to my belly. I walk away and out into the street. I pass a bagle shop on my way to the bustop. I wasn’t in the mood for thick dry bread. I wasn’t in the mood for much.