32 GB - Mikhaiah Fanfiction

5 - Burnt Eggs

Cebu City - March 27, 2024

As I watched her move around my kitchen, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at my stomach. She'd insisted on making dinner as a way to thank me for letting her stay, but something about the whole situation had my nerves on edge. The idea of a stranger—let alone a supposed time traveler—handling sharp objects in my home made my skin crawl.

While she rummaged through the fridge, I quietly began gathering the knives from the countertop, slipping them into my arms and hiding it behind my back when she wasn't looking. I left with the knives and sat on the sofa continuing my work on the laptop. I didn't want to be the new star of a murder documentary; it was better safe than sorry. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What if this was all an act? What if she was dangerous? I couldn't let my guard down, not even for a moment.

Cebu City - March 27, 2024

Silence, thick and heavy, filled the room as I stood by the stove, staring blankly at the frying pan. Thoughts tumbled through my mind, chaotic and relentless, leaving me feeling lost in my own kitchen, or her kitchen. I wondered what had gone wrong—how I could possibly find my way back, or if there was any way out of this nightmare. But no answers came. I didn't even know where to begin, yet I couldn't seem to stop thinking.

I didn't know how a simple walk to a friend's house lead me to leap between times.

"Hey, Grandma, that's burnt."

I nearly jumped at the sound of her voice, my heart skipping a beat as I turned to see Micah peeking around the doorframe.

"Did I scare you? Sorry, I could smell it from here." She said with a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, sorry... I spaced out," I said, hurriedly turning off the stove and lifting the pan.

I thought to myself "How could I have missed it? I hadn't even noticed. It was embarrassing—how could I had been so foolish?"

She walked into the room; her eyes fixed on the charred mess in the pan.

"It's almost entirely inedible," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"I can still eat it." I reply to her, not wanting to waste anything.

"Wouldn't that be a health hazard?" She chuckled, the sound light and teasing.

"It's fine. I'd rather not let it go to waste."

"No, cook another one." She insisted

"It's fine," I repeated, my voice firmer as I plated the burnt egg.

I gathered some utensils and the leftover rice she had prepared, placing it on the dining table. But, ever persistent, she went to the refrigerator and grabbed another egg. Stubborn as she was.

"I said it's fine. There's no need for another—" I said before she cut me off

"What? I'm hungry."

"Oh... sorry... I thought..." I trailed off, feeling foolish.

"Wait for me. I'll eat with you." She says as she begins to cook the eggs.

"Alright..." 

She put her plate down and sat across from me after cooking the egg. I could feel the hunger gnawing at me, but I waited, out of habit more than anything. She had said she'd already eaten, but I suppose she wanted to share another meal. A part of me appreciated the gesture, even if it wasn't necessary.

"Never mind," she muttered, lifting her fork and leaning across the table to stab at the burnt egg on my plate. Before I could react, she slid her plate towards me and stood up, the charred egg now speared on her fork.

"You're stubborn," she said, shaking the egg off the fork into the trash with a firm flick of her wrist.

"No, you are. That was perfectly fine," I replied, a little sharper than I intended.

"No, it was perfectly incinerated," she shot back, walking off with a determined stride.

I sat there, stunned for a moment. That was a clever move on her part—I should have seen it coming. The embarrassment from earlier washed over me again, but this time, I couldn't help but smile at her persistence. She made her point, and now I could finally eat. I was starving

After I finished eating and washing the dishes, I went straight to the living room. I felt the need to redeem myself after that ridiculous cooking mishap. She was sitting there, her attention fixed on that black screen she always had in her hands, with various items scattered across the coffee table.

"Busy?" I asked, hoping to strike up a conversation.

"Ah, no. I was just waiting for you," she replied with a warm smile.

"Ohh." I respond to her 

My eyes wandered to the box-like thing she'd brought from the kitchen earlier. It was sitting on the sofa beside her—a set of knives. In my head I thought that she must have been working on some form of arts and crafts project. However, I also thought that whatever it was, it was none of my business. 

Cebu City - March 27, 2024

She was looking at the knives. The sight sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind at that moment. Could it have been something sinister? An evil plan? Or something even worse?

"Were you making some handicrafts?"

"No, why?" I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"The knives." She spoke

"Oh... I... I was just checking the sharpness, that's all." I replied

"Oh, alright." She dismissed it immediately

In truth, I grabbed the knives out of fear—fear that she might use them against me. It's ridiculous, I know, but the anxiety gnaws at me. Despite everything, she was still a stranger. No matter how familiar she seemed, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

"By the way, you can sleep on the couch. I'll get you a blanket and pillow," I offered, trying to mask my nerves as I gathered up the knives and headed to the bedroom.

Is it wrong to feel this way? To be so paranoid... so terribly paranoid? But I'm just helping out right? 

A few minutes later, I remember returning with a blanket and a pillow. She had already settled on the couch, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she was trying to ground herself in this unfamiliar place.

"Thank you," she said softly, taking the blanket from me.

As she arranged the pillow and lay down, she turned her head slightly to look at me, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place.

"Can you tell me more about this time? About... now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid to disturb the quiet of the night.

The question had caught me off guard. I hesitated, unsure of where to start or how much to say. How could I explain the world she found herself in—a world so different from the one she knew?

"Well," I began slowly. "Things have changed a lot since your time" I say awkwardly. "Technology, for one. People are more connected, but... sometimes it feels like we're more disconnected than ever. Life moves fast, too fast sometimes..."

She listened intently, her eyes never left mine, as if she was trying to absorb every word, every detail of this strange new world that I introduced to her.

"There's more freedom in some ways, but there are new challenges, too. I'm guessing you as a woman didn't have a whole lot of freedom and privileges back in your day" I continued. "It's a lot to take in, but... I guess you'll get used to it... If you plan on staying."

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It's hard to imagine how much has changed," she murmured, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. "But... thank you for telling me. It helps."

As she drifted off to sleep, I watched her for a moment longer, the tension in my chest slowly easing. Maybe, just maybe, we could figure this out together.