Imagine a poem riddled, with clues / Lost in an apparent cipher / Obvious words set out in plain view / Valiant meaning when placed together / Enclosed in rhyme through fear of telling you / Yet the message I hope you gather / Overlooked by many, seen by few / United when one with another
-Mysterious Things © A Steely Lily
•••
I jolted out of sleep as soon as I heard the bursting sound of my alarm clock. I’ve only realized that I didn’t put it out here where last night, it was in my room. Not making delay, I ran and parkoured all over the place.
Don’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood, I thought, we have very thin walls.
I found some relief when I saw Jess still sleeping, very soundly; she really is a heavy sleeper. I sighed, and then sheepishly reached for my alarm clock that was resting on a bedside table beside the twin sized bed.
The fire burned low as I settled the kettle on, then washed my face and brushed my teeth. It was still pretty early, only 7am, I won’t be on the clock until 9am.
I sat down on the couch which I slept through the night, which also was the reason for the ache on my lower back. I examined the mysterious diary again, I read through it last night. This is what I know about this Ellie Morrison; she lived in a glorious town, well, that’s how she described it.
Her father died at the time she started this journal of hers, I guess she found comfort in writing. She was left with her brother and her mother, which was quite torture as she says.
Her story is rather intriguing, but it isn’t significant to anything. I guess it was just plain coincidence that I found it at the store.
I lay the brown book down and stood up; I was startled at Jessie’s sight, “Wah!” I manly shouted.
“How did I get on your bed?” She asked, her face still half asleep.
“Don’t you remember?” I teased, crossing my arms and giving her a beastly look.
“Shut up Nate, you can’t play that on me; I’m still wearing my outfit from yesterday.”
I chuckled a bit, “Well I wasn’t implying anything, I only asked.”
“Dumbass.” She muttered under her breath.
“Oooh, what are you so grumpy about?” I asked before I caught myself.
She gave me a mean look, like I was joking or something; asking her that was obviously the wrong move.
“I just broke up with my boyfriend.” She started, here we go, I thought. “He kicked me out.” Shouting was really her thing; the tears were kind of swelling now. She drew near every time she spoke. “And you wanna know why?” She took time to let the question sink in, there was a lump on my throat.
“It’s because of you.” My ears were ringing now, me? I asked myself.
“You, always calling me out, never letting me spend some time with Kyle. I know you hate him! You hate all men in suits!” She was crying and shouting, I am seriously bad at situations like this. I have no idea what to do.
“No I d-“ Before I could even speak, she cut me off.
“And you know what? The dumbest thing. He broke up with me for the dumbest thing! He thought I liked you! He thought I had some, buried feelings for you! See? Dumb right?” Now she was crying, shouting, and laughing; all at the same time. It made me sad, really sad.
