Tʜᴇ Pᴀᴛʜ Tᴏ Hɪɢʜɢᴀᴛᴇs

Fᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ Eɴɢʀᴀᴠᴇᴅ

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 20

An empty sea presented itself in front of you. A land of sullen smog and cloud breath-holding against the rising buildings ascending through the pines surrounding it. The world was silent, the city beneath you was deadened in its own making, the town fallen still with the apprehension of night approaching, though as the sun still stood, people still chased the light, their busy lives never leaving their pin-hold. You could make out a sea of buildings arranged on a grid, though the low sun bathed them in varnished light, which seemed to make their blocky visages blurry.

It would be a nice evening. Something you noticed Reich pick up on rather quick, as his eyes were gawking at the view of Berlin through the pines. It seemed to indent itself in his mind, as though this were the peak of the finest beauty imaginable. You couldn't help but smile at the boy, his red face was bathed in an orange that seemed to set him alight, as though he was attracting it all by a force from within. A quietude that stemmed from his silence of action, something that made him seem so docile. His fingers were combing through Salems sleek fur, who was curled in a pretzel like shape on his lap, her head upturned to lap up the last of the suns rays.

You look away, and out towards the city again. Your fingers dragged over your bat as you fished through your mind for something to say. "I'll be honest," you begin, causing Reich to turn to face you, his eyes observing the same description you saw in him, "sometimes I have no idea what you're saying."

The curiosity Reich held dissolved in an instant, and the boys usual motif of angsty wonder shattered and left him with the bitter-half of an impassive insult. "Uh rude?" He said with an attitude. Though as soon as he heard your genuine laughter, he couldn't help but fall back into his rolling motif. He watched with a smile as you tossed your head back, then looked at him with creases under your eyes from smiling as wide as you did. "I'm sorry! Your accent is just too thick." The German looked away with his head lower, his eyes falling to meet Salems curled body as he gently pet her with nervous fingers. A simple 'was auch immer' fell from his lips, then the conversation ended.

Reich largely ignored the constant glances you sent his way, as though he were trying his upmost hardest to ignore something he didn't find satisfactory. As if something in between was holding him back from interacting with the vitiated overtone. Maybe it was an old habit of his he had developed once he got used to the arguments cascading around the walls of his home, or perhaps it was just in his nature to be so mellow. Yet whatever it may be, it was holding him back from looking you in the eyes again. Your colourful irises were a little too much for the young boys psyche to handle.

Somewhere beyond his comprehension was a darkness that dwelled within, yet once he set his eyes upon those voids of colour that brought you the world he lost all inhibitions, and with it, the darkness within. And that was scary.

He didn't want to admit there was something wrong with him, especially to you. Oh the shame he would carry on his shoulders like an immovable iron of branding just to admit he was a little down. As if his woebegone was drowning him from inside himself, a whirlpool pulling him in further. He needed you now, if not himself.

With fingers of light intentions the boy dragged thin lines through Salems fur, leaving tingles in his skin where he felt her pelt run across him. It felt almost similar to how his insides felt when he found his feet returning to you, like a loyal stray dog just happy to be fed the most meagre of food. It was times like these he wished he had a voice loud enough to convey his thoughts in such a way that you would hear. But it would always remain the same, he would wait too long, and by then, you would be speaking. Not that he minded, he wouldn't rather have anyone else's company.