I stand up wearily and make my way to my bedroom. How could he have left that way. I feel sad… maybe it cos of the way I treated him badly. God of heavens!. I feel so guilty!. I open my closet and stare at my guitar bag. I took it out and close it.
Opening the box under the bed, I pulled out a black ankle length gown and a pair of black flats. I put them on and applied little makeup on my face. I selected a song from my playlist and stood in front of the full length mirror. I held the guitar properly, closed my eyes as the song began to play out.
“Hi fans…” I mutter to the crowd. They screamed back in response.
“Ciara!, Pinkie!, ciaria pinkie!” They screamed while waving their flashlights. I could feel my heart beat tremendously. I began to mouth to the song lyrics, strumming the guitar and swaying on my feet. The crowd screamed my name as I sang, it was my little escape from my world, one I always felt happy in. my little dream…. to become a popstar. I sang to the huge crowd, as I felt them trying to touch me. I smile and ended the song, they continued screaming as I blew them a kiss. The flashlights faded, their voice faded. I slowly opened my eyes, my reflection in the mirror staring back at me. I sighed and returned the stuffs back to thier places. I selected another song, and returned to my bed. I pulled the covers over my head, and let the song lure me to sleep.
I woke up with a slight headache. I pull the duvet away from my face and got out of bed yawning blearily, I knelt down beside my bed, said my prayers and walked to the bathroom to have my bath. I can’t believe he’s gone…. well I have my house back. I put on my dress and walked into the kitchen to make pasta. I brought out the ingredients from the fridge. Why do I feel not so happy that he’s left…. maybe it cos of the way I treated him. But he’s the one always getting me angry. I turned on the cooker and placed the pot on it. I poured the raw pasta into it. I poured in the already chopped ingredients and leaned against the counter. I ran my fingers through my hair and puff out my breath tiredly. Was there something i did that made him leave that way?. I couldn’t help but feel guilty that my attitude had droven him away. My meal was ready in few minutes and I served and ate up. Sandy and Becky never go for mass. No matter how I preach to them. I always have to beg God to forgive them on their behalf. Really … Becky and sandy need to be baptized. I and Nana usally go to mass together in her car. I bet she’d be waiting for me. I rinsed the plate in the sink, and returned back to the living room. I pause as I stare at the exposed trapdoor. I wouldn’t be opening this again. I pushed the couch so it covered the door, and walked out of my apartment after taking my mass service bag, containing my bible and writing pad. As usual Nana was waiting at her doorstep for me.
“Hi Nana” I managed a smile and pecked her. She greeted me cheerfully and we walked into her car parked outside the gate. we got in and her driver drove out. I leaned against the window and stare up at the roof of the car. Tried as much as I could, I couldn’t get the criminal out of my mind.
I got home in the afternoon worn out, hungry and tired. I waved nana bye and slide my key into the lock. sandy and Becky would be here anytime soon and i bet they would pull the roof down with thier cursing when they know he’s gone. I walked to the kitchen and drank two cups of water. i would heat up the remnants of the pasta. I opened the pot and the emptiness greeted me. I frown
“What?” I mutter in suprise. Do I have rats in the house now??
“Come on small ass it wasn’t that tasty” I whipped my head to the door.
Maybe I was dreaming. He was there. His tall frame leaning against the door. His hair packed with a band at the top of his head. His blue orbs staring straight at me. I blink and my eyeglasses fell to the bridge of my nose. I suddenly felt weak at my knees just looking at him. My heart threatening to burst out of my ribcage. Oh God why I’m I feeling like I just ran a marathon race!. I turn to the fridge and opened it so I could hide my nervousness. i took out the take out i had bought earlier for him and closed the door rather slowly. He chuckled
“Did I…. scare you?” I took a deep breath and turned to face him. Yeah you did…. with your eyes!.
“Where did you go to last night?” I ask, ignoring his question. He smirk.
“How do you know I went out?” He stuck his hand into his pants pocket. They looked costly and weren’t the one I bought for him.
“Cos… I searched everywhere and couldn’t find you!” His lips curled into a smirk
“Awww… baby so you cared that much to have been worried where I was huh?” I adjust my eyeglasses. No way that ain’t why!.
“You can’t just go in and out of my house like you own it you know!”. I placed the plate into the microwave and closed it. I lean against the counter as he walked in.
“why do you call this fuckin pigeon hole a house!… ain’t even as large as a slut pussy!” I gasped in surprise… well I now know there are two meaning of a pussy…. No thanks to the net.
“You’re such a…..”
“….. pro on the bed” He interrupted, smirked and grin. God!. Where did they pick up this guy from!.
“Why don’t your lame head accept who I am…. acting like a fuckin sixteen year old girl who ain’t had her cherry eaten!” I bit my lip in anger. well I got to check the meaning of cherry cos it might mean another bad word!
“And why do you act like you own this house?” I roll my eyes and brought out the heated takeout from the microwave. I set it down on the countertop.
Now I’m regretting why he came back.
“Fuckin no way!…. I’m not a boss in this rathole… you are small ass” I heard
him wince in pain. I took a side ways glance at him. His face held pain for a moment. He turned and walked out of the kitchen. I saw a glimpse of bloodstain on his hand. Holy Jesus!. I quickly faced the plate and opened it. I took out a spoon and began to eat. Was that blood…. or red ink?. I quickly eat up and discarded the plate. I need to sleep early. I hope madam Chloe has forgotten about my absence on Friday. I walk back into my room. I heard the shower running. I itch my hair. Don’t tell me he’s using the bathroom…. good God why don’t we have another shower cubicle!. How do I possibly avoid seeing him!. I heard the shower stop running. Oh no!. In panic, I scrambled on the bed and pulled the covers over my head. That annoying constant beating in my chest resumed. I heard the bathroom door open. I held my breath. I hear him chuckle lowly….. go out please!. I hear his soft footsteps walking towards me. I close my eye tightly and held the covers firmly. I could feel him beside my bed. Oh good God help thy child. The covers was slowly removed from my face. I bit my lips and open my eyes. His wet smirking face and blue eyes stared back at me. His wet hair was down and stuck to his white skin. why does he have to be so… cute!
“Hey small ass…. drooling is totally not enough…. let’s get busy baby”. I roll on my side and place my feet quickly on the floor. He was at the other side of the bed. What is a guy with only a towel wrapped around his waist doing in my room!. I look away.
“You realise this is a lady’s room right!?” my voice was above a whisper. What is wrong with you Emilia! He chuckled and walked around the bed to where I was. He had a palm over his abs.
“I don’t fuckin care…. have you got a godamn first aid kit?” He says with a wince. I face him.
“what do you need it for?” I asked. He grit his teeth in frustration.
“Could you stop being a fucking blabbermouth…. I’ve got to take care of this wound unless you want to be arrested for murder!” He sit on my bed and took his hand off his stomach. Holy mother of Jesus!. There was a huge gash on his skin. I gasp and squat close to him to examine it. It looked like…. a bullet wound.
“How…. did you get this!” I mutter in fear as i examined it, totally forgetting he’s the criminal.
“Stop asking so much questions small ass!….” I bit my lip in panic and stood up. I rushed to my drawer and open it hastily. I brought out a first aid kit and rushed back to him. I knelt in front of him and brought out a cotton ball, scissors and meths bottle. I dipped a small cut of cotton ball into the methylated spirit and held it with the scissors. How did he get this!. My hand was shaky as I placed the cotton on his wound. He winced and groan. I adjusted my eyeglasses and continued cleaning. He groaned and winced but didn’t move away. I couldn’t believe he was with a bullet wound, and yet was acting so cool about it.
“Is…. the b… bullet still in there?” I stuttered. In response he smiled down at me. Huh?. His face lean closer to mine. I couldn’t move away. I stared dumbly at him as he leaned too close to me. Oh no. Holy God!. What his he doing. I feel the scissors drop from my hand as I feel his soft lips on mine…..