That's All

No Answers

He is such a boy, was all I thought as I judged his unkempt hair and mouth full of food.

"Well, I better be."

"Better be what?"

"A boy."

My eyes widened as I realized he'd read my mind yet again. As my eyes grew so did his.

"Dangit, stop DOING that! You're making everything worse." he twisted away, half mumbling to himself, half voicing his thoughts. "I'm sorry kid, I can explain, I don't mean to scare you, but who the heck are you anyway, and why are you in my house?!" in his passion a bit of spittle dribbled from his mouth, and he wiped at it with his shirt sleeve, almost unaware of it's presence. On a whim, I decided to trust him with everything all the information I had. Besides, I thought  What's the point in keeping it in if he's just gonna read it out of my brain anyway?

With a sigh, I continued, "I'm Lindsay... I think that's my name, I'm fifteen... I think? I don't know. But I guess I'm just-" my voice dropped and a gut wrenching sob tried desperately to escape out of the deepest darkest part of my broken and bleeding heart, but I fought it.

Do not. Break. Down.

 "I'm pretty sure I'm Lindsay.. and that's all I know." Suddenly I couldn't contain myself, I started to spew questions left and right, "Do you know where I live? Do you know if I have a family? What's wrong with me?? Why can't I remember anything?!" But he didn't answer, just like I knew he wouldn't. His vapid express and lifeless mocha eyes that hinted that they could indeed sparkle if they wanted, did nothing but lay dormant and lifeless when they gazed at me.

"Okay, okay, okay, slow down, take a breath, you look like you could be having a heart attack, good Lord!" He patted me on the head with the shadow of a grin creeping into his cheeks, as if this bit of humor would help to calm my soul. It didn't.

"Look, I can just call the cops and-"

"NO!" I didn't know how I even knew what a cop was, but the very words uttered from his lips filled me with immense dread and I knew that if the 'cops' found me... they'd do anything but give me justice.

"Well, what the heck do you want me to do? If we don't get someone to help your seriously confused brain then who will, eh? How are you gonna get home?"

My eyes welled up as I realized the one thing that I'd kept deep in my mind, the one thing I could remember, but wanted so desperately to forget,

"I don't think I have a home."

"Alrigh- this- this is ridiculous," In a fluster, he shot up out of his rickety kitchen chair, it shook with the force of his take off. "This, this is a cute little game of theirs isn't it, huh? How much are they paying you, kid?" And he raged into the living room, indignation filling his face with a deep scarlet color. "Very, VERY funny joke, where's the cameras? How long can you fool Mikah into thinking there's a brain-damaged kid in his living room, huh? Ten minutes? Twenty? Heh? Come out here, Benje, Joey... Tyler?... Guys??"

But no one stepped forward, and he checked behind every cushion and every curtain to make sure.