I Wish We Met Sooner (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 8

Oliver

LAST NIGHT WAS SIMPLY awful.

I slept sitting up on a chair, and now my neck hurts when I rotate without my body shifting in the same direction. It's worse than sleeping on the ground three summers ago during my junior scout camp. But hey, I'd take this over sleeping in a tent with two snoring kids. At least in this musty room, it was quiet. Too quiet. Not even the streets of this neighborhood had a sound echoing throughout the night.

If I had my phone, I'd be playing some music, but I have nothing, so the next best thing is to play them in my mind. I hummed along to the music of Anson Seabra, Avril Lavigne, Ghostly Kisses, and other songs that were slow and depressing. It was the only way I could sleep without the need to consume my sleeping pills.

I look and smell disgusting from not having to bathe yesterday and today. My wounds are dried up with blood smudges staining my clothes. My hair feels crunchy from landing on various surfaces before arriving here—I think there are small rocks encapsulated around my hair—and my face is greasy from sleeping in this toaster oven of a room.

I wish he had allowed me to take a bath.

Speaking of him, what an unexpected morning today had turned out. Mr. Demon brought me food—which was delicious, I must say—and we've made some conversation. Well, I made some conversation while he just stood a few feet in front of me and answered some of them. I wonder what his plans are for me or when I can go home to my least carrying parents and college life.

Though I've sent a ransom message to them, I doubt they're even putting total effort into finding me. It's probably just minor efforts they do only when they're off work. If I were Emily, I'd be found on the second day and in the arms of mom and dad. I know this because when we went to the arcade when Emily turned four, we lost her in the crowd. I can still remember the panicked look on my parent's faces as they rushed to the mega microphone and called out to her.

Emily was accompanied by another couple back to us. Mom and dad rejoiced as they lifted her into the air and hugged the life out of her while I stood behind them, feeling glum or jealous. They've never lifted me like that when I was a kid, and for some reason, it just hurts.

Oh well, my time with them is up, and no matter how much that sucks, I can't do anything about it.

On second thought, maybe staying away from my life might not be such a bad idea. Just for a while, that is. Last night may be lonely and uncomfortable, but for once, I didn't need to pretend to be someone else in front of anyone. If only I could be myself permanently.

But where will I go once I'm released? Or do I stay here with a serial killer?

If I were to be an average person with a loving family, I'd say that's a bad idea, but I'm not. Maybe it'll be fun living with a serial killer. Imagine the things I could learn from him, such as defending myself, use of weapons, or, I don't know, something that a normal kid wouldn't do.

I don't mind staying over for a bit, but does he?

Maybe.

My eyes travel towards the window to see the skies in a magnificent shade of pink and blue. It had just finished raining, and the setting sun was blocked by substantial puffy clouds in various shapes. The entire sky seemed like a painting made by a true artist, and it was simply a treat to the eye.

He's strapped me in this chair since I've finished the food given to me, and I'm bored with no entertainment to keep me company. I don't have my phone; there are no boring images for me to count how many people or objects are in them, and neither there is a television for me to watch stale old dramas.

My mind was curious about the many odd noises coming from outside the room. Now and then, the glossy marbled floors will reflect Mr. Demon walking back and forth, and each time, there will either be heavy construction noises, or he'd be quiet as if he's walking on pillows. Though that was three hours ago, and since then, silence filled the atmosphere. Well, at least, not in my mind, as I kept playing more songs and humming to them.

Though, not for long as I noticed the lights outside the room were turned on, and someone was approaching. The door creaks open as Mr. Demon sticks his head in before entering all the way. In one hand, he holds a plate of what seems like pizza and a water bottle on the other.

"Eat up," he placed the items on the table and untied me.

My hands were free as I rubbed my wrist to ease the itchy sensation of blood rushing to my palms. I looked up to meet the eyes of his mask, and he was facing back at me. Then I looked down at the desk where my food was. He was generous enough to hand me three large slices. Though, I'm unaware of what topping is there. It could be pineapple, capsicum, or vegetarian.

"Pizza for dinner?" I looked at him.

"I hope you don't mind," an unfamiliar voice from the door spooked me. I followed the voice and noticed an elderly man, yet not really, as he was in good shape with those toned arms dressed in a black, round neck t-shirt and blue jeans. His white mustache matched the snow on a chilly morning. "I'm exhausted from working, so I got you, boys, some pizza."

"It's very much appreciated to have any food," I held hands together. "Thank you very much."

"Leave!" Mr. Demon hissed toward the old man.

"Forgive me," the man chuckled and scurried off.

"Your father?" My visions fall back on Mr. Demon.

"Grandfather."

"No way, he's much too young to be a grandfather!" I'm surprised. "I bet your parents are beautiful people."

"I don't have parents," he said.

Well, that was awkward, not to mention insensitive. But then again, how should I know the serial killer doesn't have parents? Actually, I should've known.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know," how I wish I could take those words back.

"Exactly. If you know nothing, keep your mouth shut next time."

"I'm sorry," I looked away from the eyes of his mask.

"Here," he held out a towel in front of me. "You're right; you could use a bath as you smell revolting."

"You think?" I took the towel from him and stood on my jelly legs, pretending the conversation about his parents didn't happen. "Thanks."

"Also," he pulls down some clothes that I overlooked were resting on his shoulders. "This is all I could spare you. I couldn't care less if you find them discomforting."

I took the clothes as a smile automatically cracked on my face. "No, I don't, thank you very much."

Though I don't show it on the outside, I'm jumping with excitement in my mind for I can finally take a bath. Hopefully, there's hot water, though.