Saving Mattie (nh)

Chapter 6: Sob Stories and Morphine

"You... live here?" I breathed, taking it all in. This flat must've been worth thousands!

James just laughed and shoved his keys into his back pocket. He held open the door for me to enter, still grinning.

I stumbled inside, still struggling to realize that this flat belonged to James. It was huge, and I'm only in the entryway to the living room. To my left was a oak door, leading into another room, and to my right was a huge crème painted living room, complete with a large couch, love seat, flat screen TV, guitar, and stereo. Straight ahead there was a long hallway with multiple doors on its walls.

I squatted down, and brushed my fingers against the wood floor. The pads of my fingers traced every grain and knot in the hardwood. I was in awe. It was real hardwood. Must've cost hundreds to install.

"Where do you work?" I asked, my voice laced with amazement.

James laughed. "That's not relevant."

I sighed. "You must make good money."

For some reason, James burst out laughing. His face crunched up, and his mouth was open incredibly wide to allow the loud bellows to escape. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just chuckled some more, and waved me into the door to my right. "You go in in there, I've gotta do something quick."

I slipped off my shoes and padded along to the door. I pushed open the oak door, and walked on inside.

The kitchen in itself must've been worth tens of thousands! The cupboards were a dark oak, with a real granite counter top (I'm assuming, I've never known anyone with enough money to afford granite.). The walls were a creamy white, with an accent wall painted light grey. It had stainless steel appliances, very high tech. The only appliances we had at my own house were an old stove from 1998, a old fridge from the same era, and a microwave I'd found at a garage sale. But James had a fancy new stove, fridge and freezer, microwave, dishwasher, and many little colourful kitchen utensils, such as whisks, ladles, large wooden spoons, melon ballers, the works.

Soon, James sauntered back inside. He had taken off the hoodie, opting for a grey tee shirt and red beanie covering his whole head so I couldn't see the hair, and had also taken off the glasses. I struggled to see his eyes, but he hid them from me.

"This is the kitchen. I've got tons of food, so whenever you're hungry, feel free." He said, opening the fridge. I nodded and smiled at him in thanks.

James sauntered over to the fridge, and tugged it open. It was filled to the brim with all sorts of food; milk, eggs, lettuce, ham, soda, celery, carrots, and a few things I didn't even recognize. I was eying a oddly shaped fruit of some sort when James turned. My eyes flashed up to his,which I now notice were greenish-hazel, before returning my gaze to the thing on the bottom shelf.

James follow my gaze, and he saw what I was looking at. "You've never seen starfruit before?" He asked, amazed.

I shook my head, even though it pounded. I could tell the painkillers from the hospital were beginning to wear off already. "We usually stuck to the nessecesities. You know, apples, banannas, oranges. Never... whatever that is."

James laughed, and plucked it from the fridge. "It's really good, you've gotta try it." he gushed, placing it on the counter.

I eyed it wearily, but made my way over to the counter. I stood beside James as he rifled through a drawer, biting his lip. I watched him search, his hands darting this way and that, struggling to locate the nessecary utensil needed for prepaing the food.

He eventually located what he needed, and my eyes widened as he drew out a long, thick butcher knife.

"This better not be the moment when I find out you're a psycho killer who's about to kill me and eat the starfruit all by himself."I said, smirking.