The definitely not dull me

"Help"

Click. Click. Click. It had started.

It had been three hours since the incident and the clicking had finally resumed as normal. He had pulled himself together, or I guess you could say he had gone back to normal. He was never really fully put together.

"Grace!" Jesus. Please just leave me. I can't handle it anymore. "Supper is ready!"

Wait, what the.......

Supper? Who cooked? He didn't cook. The dog cooked. That was the rule. He didn't cook because he was too proud. I didn't cook because I was too 'messy.' The dog cooked because he was brilliant! Sure he made a mess but the food was worth it.

The smell was heavy. Full of layers. Different ideas and feelings. It smelled Devine. And I wanted some.

"Grace!" Give me a break! I hurried down the corridor towards the food and stopped half way. He had been rude. Sure he was the same as always but I had only come to his call when he needed it before and he had pushed me away. It was him who needed help. I turned around to go back to my quarter of the building. I would not let him humiliate me again.

"Grace?" Shit. "Where are you going? I've cooked for you." I wanted to yell a number of rude things in his face.

Instead I turned back around. Looking at the ground and ate dinner. With the dog and the 'source of the constant clicking.'

The clicking went for the whole supper. And the time we all pitched in to do the dishes. But as soon as I left the room. The clicking stopped. I looked behind me down the hallway to the kitchen where he stood. His clicking device in his hand. Then no longer in his hand as it dropped to the wooden floor.

He looked at me. His eyes filled with tears. "Help."

That was the last word I heard from him before he dropped. Alongside the clicking device. On the wooden floor.

The dog ran. He wasn't good in emotional situations. Neither was I, but I was better than the dog.

I helped him to his feet and supported him to his quarter of the building. He had nothing in his quarter as I'd noticed earlier that day. No where to sleep. No where to recover. No wonder he looked deprived. I couldn't lay him on the wooden floor. It was cold and the sun was setting, so I did the only thing I could in this situation. I helped him to my quarter and lowered him on my sleeping area. My sleeping area was not a bed but a hundred throw pillows laid in the corner of my quarter with a dozen blankets. It was a large area and it was so comfy. He moaned in pain as his body slumped and slid into an acceptable position. I watched him for a while, then closed the door to the quarter and slept with the dog.