Into the Night

{New} Ch. 12 : Hard Times

The memories of the past few days came together like puzzle pieces rattling around a garbage can. Given the time he could have put most of it together, but eventually he'd have to accept the fact that some of the pieces weren't there to find.

His back arched as he sat up. He felt disheveled in an organized way, in the same way that trash felt after coming out of a compactor. The price for the truth was steep and came in payments.

Calla no longer belonged to the human race. Even if he never did in the first place, he felt biologically altered by that knowledge. The blood that pumped through his veins wasn't his own anymore.Spending the rest of his life in a lie was impossible now that he was aware of it.

Something very wrong lurked beneath his skin and it nauseated him. Though he still hungered for knowledge. The curtain over his eyes had begun to be lifted. He had to know. The encyclopedia was merely a stepping stone. A very frustrating stepping stone.

"What type of book limits you from reading it all at once?"

It's like his aunt only gave it to him because she was the author. It gnawed on his nerves, tested his patience, and brought into question the legality of publishing a book like that. What if someone had read it longer than they were supposed to?

Calla groaned, but he counted his blessings while he could. He wasn't in a book induced coma, there was a roof over his bruised head, and he had plenty of smoke scented luggage that either belonged to him or those he watched get eaten alive.

Thankfully the book had left him feeling somewhat rested. It gave him enough energy to lift himself from the bed, but not enough to wish to be awake.

"You have to get up and get yourself together," he mumbled to himself.

Groggily, but surely, he became aware of his new surroundings, of the place he'd call home for his last school year. Of the fishbowl that was just there for no reason whatsoever.

"Oh so that's where I put the beta fish." Lily's head popped through the doorway. A green towel was wrapped around her damp hair. A purple clay mask stretched across her face. It cracked and peeled around the edges.

Her morning routine involved an invigorating clay mask and half a gallon of coffee mixed with a shot of vitamin B-12. Without it, she'd end up murdering the first moron she came upon. It wasn't something she did for herself, it was something for all the morons of the world.

"How'd you like the book? Oh and don't pull any punches because I'm the author. I want to better myself and being nice doesn't do that. "

"I don't know what to say."

"Speechless in a good way, or..."

"It felt like I was transported to a different place entirely."

"The magic of storytelling, am I right?"

Calla couldn't tell if she were joking or not, so he shrugged.

"The hot water is going and there should be a red bull around here somewhere to get you started. After you get washed up we'll go shopping for school essentials."

His aunt chose to ignore him and relayed her message.

"Is there any breakfast made?"

"Nope!"

"Is there anything for me to cook?"

"Nope, we're stopping by a diner. There's this cute little mom and pop place ran by an old man who I think might Tupac and an old woman who might Yoko Ono."

"Or they could just be an old interracial couple and you could just be a racist. There's always that possibility."

She rolled her eyes before leaving the doorway. Her nephew chuckled while rubbing the crust away from his eyes and casting a look at the encyclopedia. He took a deep breath before unwinding on his way to the sound of the shower. At least there was that to look forward.