HAZE

CHAPTER 4

LOYALTY

Amara's alarm clock went off at around 6 pm. She had set her alarm to ensure she woke up on time, her promise to hide out with Griff foremost in her mind. She wore a pair of grey sweatpants, a red t-shirt, and an oversized hoodie. She loved curling inside that hoodie like a giant cotton puffball, plus it saved her the trouble of styling her hair. Only the heavens knew how much time she would have wasted trying to do that. The packed watermelon pineapple fruit salad she had made was on the counter, the blue-lidded container sealed nicely. She tied the laces of her black shoes after the door closed behind her.

She wondered how it would go with Griff considering this was the first time they were consciously meeting. According to Nana, Griff was the type of friend who was always on speed dial, reliable and accountable; unless he was with Rick. Good with parents, and remarkable with authority figures. He knew how to have fun but always had a handle on things enough to match any other designated driver. He was not a fan of pleasantries and the topics everyone hid beneath, like the weather and gossip about what happened where. However, he was amused by conversations with words that burnt when they left one's mouth. Talks about acts that people preached yet never practiced resulting in them being blemished and any discussions that aroused curiosity and controversy.

Amara tried convincing Nana to come with her like a saving grace in case things got awkward. However, she was a hard nut to crack, and it was easy enough for her to say no, for she had plans to get funky that night. Her multiple personalities always amused Amara, from nerd to party freak, to the hottest girl in the room, the Jane doe hiding in plain sight, the arrogant spoilt brat, and the responsible daughter of youth. Besides, Nana had just finished her exams and wouldn't pass up the chance to let loose. She even suggested that Amara go with Rick, but Amara wouldn't hear any of it.

Since she had been so absorbed in her thoughts, she barely registered how brief the ride to the hospital was. The nurse on duty showed her into Griff's room. He was asleep, the blanket covering him halfway while the book he'd probably been reading lay on his chest. His mouth was slightly open, and she thought it was adorable, could be tease-worthy if she put her mind to it. His breathing was strained, coming out in short deep bursts. His masculine body had penetrating veins under his skin; "a hidden manly strength beneath," Amara thought. He turned to face the other side; Amara concluded he was not going to wake up soon.

Amara sat on the bedside chair and removed a book from her bag; the devil and Miss Prym, by Paulo Coelho. It was about a community devoured by greed, cowardice, and fear. There was also mention of a man who was being persecuted by the ghosts of his painful past. He crossed paths with a young lady; one was searching for happiness, the kind that dripped with innocent naivety, something which was no one's fault. They were all facing questions of life, death, and power, had to choose their path, good or evil. The choice of one person would affect the whole community. The community, akin to a tree in which when one branch shook, every other was affected.

"So, do you believe in the ideology of that book? That given the right circumstances, every human being on this earth would be willing to commit evil?" Griff asked.

Amara jolted from her seat and almost fell. Her book dropped to the ground with a soft thud. She looked up and saw Griff looking at her with lazy eyes that were exploring her with a mind of its own and a reassuring smile with a splash of mischief in it. He had formed a habit of talking when people least expected just to see their reaction. He believed that everyone was afraid of silence and wanted something to help them elope from the silence. But, unfortunately, even though we all worship silence and pretend that we find ourselves in the peace and calm that comes with silence and meditation, all it does is awaken our demons. The demons we are not always willing to face, those we want to keep for the tomorrow that never comes.