A Thousand Ways To Run

Chapter 17

Eventually I had to get up and get on with my life, whatever was left of it. I noticed the kitchen was well-stocked as I rifled through the cabinets. There was something about long bursts of existential thought that made me not want to cook and yet still crave a home-made there-is-way-too-much-cheese-and-ham-stuffed-in-there omelet. I think the only thing that made me go through the motions was knowing I had nothing else to go through. The apartment was about as interesting as a four piece puzzle to me. In a weird way, the CIA had tried to entertain  me and put in things for me to do. But nothing would amount to the freedom to explore, discover, run.

The smell of fried egg lingered through the kitchen and living rooms, the aroma making each bite of the omelet taste that much better. I scoffed it down with my legs tucked under me on the couch, not bothering to turn the TV on to play one of all but five movies they left me. Silence had never really bothered me.

Not until then. Not until I realized that without noise, my mind would keep thinking and roaming to things I didn’t want to think about, but knew I would. Warren.

I sounded like such a whiny teenager, and I hated it. I hated missing him so much because I hated how it hurt. I thought making friends was supposed to make people happier, not make them hurt more. Or maybe it’s like the story about a woman with an ugly, sewn together and wretched heart. She gave so many pieces away, and got some in return. Her heart was smaller than those who still had unblemished ones, but she was happier. She smiled through the pain.

Or maybe she was just crazy enough to believe pain is irrelevant because of joy.

Thinking. Too. Much.

All those other acclaimed geniuses and Nobel Prize winners could rant all they wanted about how they changed the world for the better and invented something magnificent no one could ever forget. But until someone stops manufacturing sleeping pills and instead finds the switch in the brain that cuts off the currents of forever thoughts, humanity wouldn’t see true progress.

Just as I was about to start either screaming or singing to end the silence, I heard a small knock on the door. I became like a caged animal who hadn’t seen another one of its kind in days. Oh, so very apprehensive and scared of a simple knock. I didn’t even move.

Just one simple whispered word settled all nerves and abolished any fear. “Charlie?”

It couldn’t be.

The dumbass snuck down here just to get us both in more trouble.

I kind of wanted to beat the crap out of him and then do the exact opposite of that. And neither of those things made any sense.

I crept closer to the door and whispered through the crack that I was going to get the key and that it might take me a minute. I probably should have been really happy to see him, but his presence made me angry. He’d risked so much seeing me. Things that weren’t his to risk, like my future. I was way too paranoid as I ripped a hole through the comforter and took out the key card, returning to the kitchen to grab the skeleton key.

All the longing I had just felt to see him was gone. I made him wait, taking my sweet time as I went about.

I don’t know why I did it. Later, I would regret it. I would regret every moment I teased and pushed him. Every damn one. Some of us in this world have the hardest time looking straight ahead at what’s always been there.

When I did open the door, I flicked my eyes up to see the same wires dangling from the wall without a camera to play Big Brother. Then, I saw Warren, face plastered with the goofiest smile. I tried not to let it affect me too much, a small grin sliding on to my features.