S
troked his hair, brushing out any drops of water from the snow. “Shh, it’s okay… c’mon, wake up for me.”
“You’re… you’re dead, though. Time… lighthouse… lanterns are dark. I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid… c’mon,
I’m here now. I’ve got you.” W
as sort of improvising reassuring words, echoing the same care and love Terra gave me when I had that nightmare.
“I wanted to be happy…” he started to cry, “That’s all.
Without all these consequences.
Aerie, I just wanted-”
“It’s okay, love.” I really don’t think it was okay. But I had to say it. Sometimes lies are the best.
He sobbed into me, hardly even restraining
himself
. It was all I could do to not cry with him, but I had to remain strong. If I am to be his rock, I won’t crumble when he needs me.
Until I die, I’ll be as strong as diamonds.
When I die, I don’t want to say I’d be strong. I’m sick of breaking promises and keeping secrets.
H
eld him until he fell asleep again, still massaging his back to warm up his chilled skin.
D
ecided school wasn’t important, and went to sleep.
However, that might not have been the best idea, because Terra curiously looked in when she saw the hall lights on. I was awake when she looked in, and saw me, holdin
g him half-naked in the bed. S
uppose from her position, it likely looked as if we were both totally naked.
Her shocked face was priceless.
Later, at about 11:30, I stepped out of the room to make some porridge for breakfast, and she ambushed me as I was getting a pot.
“What were you doing in his room? Where were your clothes? I think you might be moving a bit fast! Were you safe?”
I laughed nervously. “
Er
, no-”
“
You weren’t safe
?!?!”
she freaked out, grabbing my shoulders.
“No, I mean he was just cold! I was helping him to warm up!”
“With your clothes off?”
“Yeah, um… Last night, I had this dream, and then I knew he was outside and I went looking for him. He was collapsed in the park, so I brought him here to warm him up.”
“You… you dream prophetically?”
“
Er
… sure? Is that what it’s called?”
“Well, you know how Mum had that fortune-telling shop? She said that both of us likely had a good aptitude for stuff like that. The only thing I can seem to do is figure out where people are hurt, though, which is less than she hoped for.” She turned away, “I kind of hoped you would be normal, without all that spiritual psychic stuff weighing you down. You know Mum told me the day she was going to die, right?”
I was shocked. “She- she did?”
“Yeah, the next week, there I was, walking into that hospital with Dad, and identifying her body.”
“Terra… I didn’t-”
“It’s okay.” She swatted the air around her head, as if she was trying to banish the weird tenseness in the atmosphere. “I don’t know why this all just occurred to me. Don’t worry about it.”
“But-”
“Just… let me know if you dream something about you or Noah. I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. Tell me so we can stop anything horrible.”
“I promise.”
“Because I will believe you. Mum had the gift of prophecy, and I guess she decided to hand it down to you.”
“Could she-?”
“Hm?”
“Could she read people’s emotions?”
“I’m not sure. She never mentioned anything like that. Although she always said Dad was really perceptive about things. Why?”
D
ebated on whether or not to just say it. So I did. This seemed like the best time out of any. “I can feel what other people are feeling when I touch them. Sometimes it can be really overwhelming, like in the school hallway and stuff.”
She looked at me seriously, “Is there anything else unique that you can do?”
“I can cook amazingly.” I smiled, successfully smashing the slight tenseness to bits.
She grinned, and pulled me into a hug. “You goof.” As she pulled away, she looked at me seriously again. “He’s sleeping, yeah? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Hm? What’s up?”
She shook her head, sitting down at the table. Slowly, I sat down across from her, and looked right at her. She was avoiding my gaze, and seemed to be forming the proper sentence in her mind before actually saying it.
“Noah… is he special in some way?”
“Huh? What do you mean, like to me or something?”
“No, I mean… Does he have some kind of gift like you?”
“Uh, I’m not sure… Why do you ask?”
“He should have died, Aerian. Those cuts were more than enough to kill him. He would have bled out and died.” She kept looking
away,
I don’t think she could have continued if she looked at me. “So there must be a reason he lived. There’s no way he should have.”
“He- he’s cursed. That’s what he told me. He told me people who get close to him get hurt, and that’s why he always has to be alone.”
Her face switched quickly from soft worry to full-out sadness. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, I’ve heard people say that. Many of my co-workers spit at the mention of his name. He’s
labelled
as a
curse,
no one wants anything to do with him. The other nurses say he used to always come to the hospital, begging for help, and then his father would take him away, claiming it was all an act. People just never listen to him.”
“It’s like that at school too.”
She put her elbows on the table, cradling her forehead in her hands. “But he’s such a good person! It’s so unfair!”
“I
know.” I said. R
eally couldn’t think of anything else to say.
After a few seconds, she sat back, looking at me sadly. “You’re still going to be his friend, even though he’s a curse, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I reckon so. He’s one of the only friends I’ve ever had.”
After he woke up, we had breakfast, which he seemed really eager to eat. Whenever he co
mes here, he seems famished. W
onder if he even eats at home.
“Thank you.” He said softly, as he finished his porridge.
Initially, I figured he meant for breakfast, but the ‘thank
you’ seemed more than that. L
ooked at him, waiting for him to elaborate a little.
“Thank you for saving me again. I nev
er thought I’d be worth it.” W
ent to interrupt him, but he continued before I could. “I have never been worth anything before I met you. You have given me value, and I appreciate it more than you might understand. To suddenly be important after being worthless for so long is a beautiful feeling. So I thank you.” He reached forward slowly, placing his hand on mine, looking so intensely at me that I found it difficult to mirro
r the fierce emotion. W
anted so badly to show him something as raw and as beautiful as the bright emotions he was revealing to me.
At that moment, I saw Terra about to enter the room, and then step back, allowing us the moment of privacy.
He withdrew his hand, wetting his lips with his tongue.
Terra stepped in, smiling happily and gently touched him on the shoulder, “Good morning, sailor, how were your lodgings?”
He smiled curiously, “What did you call me?”
“Sailor! It’s my nickname for you, I think it suits you, no?”
A light blush
colo
u
red
his cheeks and he continued smiling softly, “I have never received a nickname before. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Now, should I take a look at you? Consider it your weekly
checkup
!”
“Oh… ah, yes, of course.” He stood up, and followed her to the living room, which I have come to understand is now like our own mini-clinic.
There was even a first-aid kit under the coffee table. We’re pretty efficient here.
He pulled off the white t-shirt I had given him earlier, revealing a new arrangement of bruises. Every time he shows up here with new bruises, I imagine them as a new bouquet,
colo
u
red
in a
n extensive range of
colours
. I
magine them as flowers, a gift, an honour that he received for surviving.
There’s a blue-purple one across his right shoulder that looks like a forget-me-not.
I won’t, I will never forget him.
The way he looks at me.
I will never forget him.
85 Days, 4 December, Thursday
So yesterday, he left almost immediately aft
er we made sure he was okay. H
ad washed and dried his clothes, so he redressed, and began to leave.
“Wait! It’s minus 26 today! You can’t go outside without a coat!” I protested.
“I cannot return to my house in anything I did not leave in. It will only raise suspicion.”
“You can’t go outside in just that, though. You’ll freeze. Umm… what if I gave you something, and you could take it off before you go inside?”
He thought about that, and then agreed, taking a thick warm blanket to wrap around himself.
R
ubbed his shoulders after he put the blanket around him, leaning in and giving him a light kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
He nodded, and then he left.
At school today, I noticed he was wearing his red coat, the one I had given to him. He must have left it at home when he went out the other night. At least he’s using it. Somehow I find that reassuring. Like that one article of clothing will protect hi
m, even when I’m not around. C
an’t help but thinking that he
needs
a white coat though. It’s weird to see him in anything but white. He needs the innocence of it.
Maybe I’ll try and find him one, or
make him one for Christmas. T
hink he’d like that.
And of course, I invited him over for the weekend. Somehow he never needs
to go home on the weekends. R
eally wonder how he’s allowed to not go home.
A
lso wonder about his sister. What does she do when she’s at home? Does she a
void him like everyone else?
K
inda
doubt it, she seems to love him even though
she’s surrounded by people who hate him
. I’d like to spend some time with her sometime.
Maybe next week, that’d be nice. We could all go out to the skating rink or something.
84 Days, 5 December, Friday
You’re the last thing on my mind as I fall asleep.
You’re the last thing on my mind.
Perhaps I should exchange ‘last’ for ‘final’. But then the play on
words isn’t
as obvious.
I’ve grown accustomed to watching him as he sleeps peacefully. It’s almost as if by watching him, I’ll somehow keep him safe.
If he feels safe enough here with me to comfortably sleep, I don’t mind the soft silence. The crackle of the fire and his slow deep breaths are enough for me. There’s music in it.
It’s only when there is little to no sound that one can appreciate the sounds of peace.
He woke up a little after that, and we decided to decorate for Christmas. I had some
colo
u
red
paper, and elected we make a bunch of paper chains. He was way better at cutting proper sized pieces of paper than me though, so I let him take full charge of that job.
Terra brought home some small lights too, which we strung up with the paper chains. It made the whole living room glow with cheerful
colourful
lights.
Among the other things Terra brought home were some things for the spare bedroom, which was quickly becoming known as ‘his’ bedroom. This included a lamp, a bookcase, and a large quilt. His room is beginning to look like a room now; he even has clean clothes for when he stays over now.
Think Terra is surreptitiously trying to make him stay here all the time.
W
e had hot chocolate, watched the Christmas episode of the supernatural show and went to bed. It was a really lovely night, all around.
C
ould get used to this.
Being happy all the time, it’s a good feeling.
83 Days, 6 December, Saturday
Today was not a good day
.
I’m writing this at home after a rather unpleasant series of events.
Narrative switch! I’m going to write this to the best of my recollection from the moment it happened.