The Lore within Reality

Chapter 3

I didn't sleep much that night. Too much time is spent walking back and forth from my room to the living room making sure the man hasn't died. The last time I went to check on him I noticed he had moved his pallet to the floor. He's too tall for the couch, his feet hang off the end. I stood there, just watching him. An odd protective feeling lodged itself in me, causing me to watch him and keep him safe.

As I watched him I couldn't help but notice the sharo line of his face and dark hair that flopped over his forehead, giving him a boyish charm. His blanket bunched up around his waist so I could see several crisscrossing scars, like he'd been in battle for far too long. His eyes jumped behind his eyelids as he dreamed and for a moment he gripped the blankets so tight his knuckles turned white. My legs twitched like they wanted to go to him.

I scolded myself and went back to bed, tossing and turning until I fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning I roll out of bed, groaning in my usual morning way. The sun shines through the window, blinding my groggy eyes. I stand and stretch then walk down the hallway to find an empty living room. I stop and rub my eyes. The blankets were folded at the end of the couch with the pillow sitting on top. There was nothing else.

And in that moment it truly hit me what I had just done. My hands begin to shake and my legs give out beneath me. I lean on the wall, sliding to the floor, and stare at the folded blankets. It was as if some spell had worn off, a fog cleared from my brain. I let a stranger into my home. A stranger who could have very easily hurt me. A stranger that was so close to death which meant he had been in a serious fight. A stranger that now knew where I lived and who knows what else. I found the man, near death, in the very house my friend went missing from. What if he had something to do with what happened there? What if he's the one that did the awful things?

My heart pounds in my chest and my lungs can't seem to hold in oxygen. My hands shake at a near painful rate. Fuzz begins to fill my brain, shadows in my vision. My body is frozen, yet trembling, at once. What is wrong with me? How could I be so stupid?

I somehow manage to suck in a deep breath, clearing the fog in my brain. He's gone, I told myself. That's all that matters. I take another deep breath and head to the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water calmed me down and the steam cleared my head. I got ready for work and headed out the door.

I make my way down the sidewalk, planning my next step in my investigation. I can't find Josh which means I can't find who was at that party which means I can't find Leylah, and searching the house was a bust. I let out an irritated sigh as I walked into work, looking forward to a distraction from this insanity.

The next few hours go by in a whirl of movement and faces. I take order after order and run food to each table, tending to whatever it is that they need. Towards the end of my shift a coworker tells me someone requested me. I nod my thanks and head out of the kitchen to get their order. I stop dead when I see who's at the table. The stranger looks down at his menu as if it's the most interesting thing to look at in the small diner.

I stumble back into the kitchen and beg for someone else to take him. The girl who sat him gave me an odd look, so I made up some BS story about him being some weirdo who lives in my complex who never leaves me alone. She shrugs and waltzes out there, after all the man was very attractive.

I lean against the wall and let out a relieved sigh. "I don't why you don't like him. He's so sweet," she comments as she makes his drink. I don't even bother to answer her. I finish up my cleaning while keeping an eye on the man, waiting for him to leave. He finishes his meal and gets up, dropping some cash on the table before walking out the door.