Dear Diary | Proxies

xvii. realms and trials

Dear Diary,
Realm hopping hurts. A lot.

I let out a low sigh as I stared at the pot of boiling water in front of me. Toby had wanted spaghetti for dinner and I was happy to oblige, but it had gone a bit quiet in the house, and it was almost strange - welcome, but strange. Toby had eaten an entire box of cosmic brownies he found in the back of one of the kitchen cabinets and promptly passed out while watching a raccoon eating leftovers outside. Brian was currently in the shower, the steady stream in the background a small reminder. Tim was outside. He had originally been on watch in case Toby decided to get confident and run outside to the raccoon, but he was now doing crossword puzzles while blowing through a pack of cigarettes.

I looked between the pot and the boy perched on my counter. He was quietly singing a lullaby I didn't recognize as he watched me in turn. He hadn't tried speaking, but if his transparency was anything to go by, he probably wasn't real.

I began to hum along with him as he repeated the medley while I stirred the pasta sauce.

"Do you think you'll make it out of this alive?"

I stilled. I turned to him, a questioning sound rising from my throat. "Huh?"

He tilted his head and giggled. The laugh seemed to echo even in the small room. "Do you think you'll make it out alive? I mean, who's to say that everything goes right? What if he doesn't like you? What if they decide they don't want you anymore? There are a lot of possibilities here."

"I don't- uh- I haven't really thought about it." I turned my attention to stirring the sauce as it bubbled and popped at me. "I trust them, and that's all that really matters to me."

He giggled again, kicking his feet in the air. "But do they trust you?"

My reply was instant. "Yes." But my voice wavered, doubt laced throughout. Yes, right?

I peered out the window, catching the sight of Tim on the porch, a welcome sight. Smoke billowed from his lips, his head tilting up and making the fading sun catch on the edges of his form, lighting him up in a golden hue. He turned to look towards the window I was at and caught my gaze, giving me a soft smile and waving. I waved back hesitantly, trying not to let my discomfort show in my look. He raised another cigarette, silently asking if I wanted to join him. My smile was more genuine this time as I shook my head. He shrugged and turned back to his crossword.

He hummed and hopped down from the counter, making me look back towards him. "Cute, but that's one out of many. Even then, he could always be lying. He said he killed people for a living; what makes you think he's telling the truth? What if he just feels pressured? Or wants to fuck and leave." The cruel words seemed so strange to hear from the child's mouth, but I couldn't help but absorb each and every one.

I sat in silence for a while, listening to Brian cut his shower off, making it quiet enough to hear Toby's breathing and quiet snores. His face was probably pressed halfway into the couch cushions, leaving himself just enough room to breathe. One day he was going to suffocate himself by accident, I swear. Their little sounds made me wonder how I had ever sat in the silence of my house like I used to before. This. This was home. They turned a house into a home.

"They love me. They love me, and that's all that matters right now."

The boy went to reply but stopped as we heard footsteps enter the hallway and begin to make their way towards us.

"June," Brian called out, nearing where we were. "Where are ya, baby?"

I stared at the boy as I responded. "Kitchen, but keep your voice low, please. Toby passed out."