Relationships, Short Story

Chapter 1: Troy

The rays of sunlight burst into the room from the window on the right. There are no other windows so all of the photons are engaged in a fierce battle to come through this one little square. The taste of humidity steals up to my tongue. The smell of soap and freshly washed linen fills my nostrils as I inhale. The blue paint on the walls is faded unevenly. The wooden floor shines like it was just waxed yesterday. The purple sheets and grandiose bunk beds seem fit for kings. The wardrobes stand tall, ganging up against me from all three corners of the room. The door on the fourth is my only way out. The posters hanging from the wall spell out all the best bands we know.  The slow breeze ushers in a sense of peace and somehow speaks to me, goading me to stay forever.

Pain sucks.

You can’t see it. You can’t touch it. It just sits there inside of you like a tumor, feeding on your breath and strength. I wonder how long people carry their pain around. I wonder how bad it hurts them. I wonder just how they do this. Other people walk by and act like they don’t notice or don’t care. Or maybe they really don’t notice. It’s like on the inside your soul is screaming, “Look at me! I’m in so much pain! It hurts! EVERYTHING… hurts.” But nobody hears. Nobody listens. Nobody cares.

I close my eyes and replay the phone conversation from the night before in my head.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not that bad. It’s actually wearing off.”

“I wish I could be with you; I do not approve of you going out without me.”

“Haha; I got turnt for the both of us.”

“Oh, you’re so nice!”

“Haha. I’m about to eat now; I’ll probably feel better after I eat.”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Hold on.”

“Sure!”

Some minutes later…

“I feel so much better!”

“I’m glad!”

“I’m so sleepy now.”

“Get some sleep, love.”

“Thanks, babe. You’re too nice to me; I might actually start to like you”

“Oh haha. Well, who else am I going to be this nice to?”

“Well I don’t mind; I’m attracted to you”

“Other people might mind.”

“True.”

“But I don’t care.”

“Well neither do I. I always go for the treasure.”

“Me?”

“Yes, babe.”

“You’re sweet.”

That was when he fell asleep.

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