Unwritten «m.c.»

13

"Well you're the strange boy in my bedroom now aren't you."

I don't think I'm strange.

I scoff at him waving my hand in the air for emphasis, "This is completely strange. It's insane. You just showed up out of literally nowhere after talking to me through my fucking computer."

He smiles at me.

Tell me about yourself Violet.

I sit there silently looking at him through the corner of my eye, the events that have happened in the past half hour replaying over and over in my mind.

I won't bite.

Sighing I think for a moment,
"I love the color violet but I hate the flower. I crave adventure but I'm too scared to go find it. I have never been in love but I have had my heart broken many times. I love the smell of Christmas trees. The thought of the future scares me. I have to sleep with either my fan on, my tv going, or music playing, the silence is agonizing. I'm a sucker for cute comedy shows. I collect candles, they make me feel warm physically and mentally plus I love nice smelling things. I have a fear of drowning but I love taking showers and baths, no swimming. I could eat pizza for the rest of my life and be so cool with that. I want to be a writer. I am alone."

Aren't you something. He says his smile growing as I notice his position changed to him laying on his tummy, his chin in his hands with his feet up in the air, childlike.

"I could say the same about you Michael."