The Works

Lonely People

4:30 PM:

"Mom?" My call echoes through our empty house. I hear a scrapping as someone runs around the house to me. "Bayjack come here." I kneel down caressing my dog's head.  I sigh and head towards the kitchen.

"Mom? Carson?" I yell as I slip my bag onto one the island stools? Neither my mother nor my little brother are home yet. That's weird, Carson's usually home from school by now. I drop my cello off in the studio, then head upstairs to my room.

I reach my room and flop down on my bed ignoring my soaking wet hair and body. I shut my eyes and take deep breaths.

It's bright outside when I wake up. That is the second thing that I become aware of. The first being the warmth surrounding my whole body. I focus my eyes and see a hand extends from under my neck. I smile and run my nails gently across the inner forearm and wrist, he fidgets. I run my fingers up one more time, then extend my hand to his and interlock our fingers. I feel his other arm tighten around my waist as he squeezes my hand in response. He buries his face in my neck and breathes heavily. I let out a little laugh and let my head fall back down on his arm. He kisses my head, then leans back as he rubs tickling circles over my shirt. I twitch and slap his hand, but that only encourages him to tease me more. He starts tazzing me anywhere my hands aren't defending and I flop around like a fish until I end up facing him. He looks tired, really tired. But he smiles at me anyways. I put my fingers to his thin, but full lips, then move to rubbing circles across his cheek. He rests his forehead against mine and shuts his eyes. I feel his long dark hair tickle my ear and twitch a bit. He lets out a light laugh while he wraps his right arm around the small of my back and buries his left under my neck. He turns over slightly so he is lying more on his back and my head rests on his chest. I take comfort in the steady beating of his heart, my chest raising and falling in opposite motion of his. He gently tucks my hair behind my ear in a soft continuous cycle as I nestle into him. He's become pale. Naturally his skin lets off a soft tan glow to it, but he's been cooped up in here, working tirelessly to find an answer. His muscular chest and arms have lost a bit of their bulk and his cheeks are beginning to cave in more. His eyes have dulled over. I don't see the spark of youth or happiness in him anymore. But I never stop seeing his appreciation for me, his love, and I thank my lucky stars for that at least. I make sure that he at least eats every few hours or so, but he simply forgets. I gaze up at his gentle expression. He doesn't listen to music anymore, it used to be his everything. He doesn't care about much but the answer and me. I don't even think he recognizes that he's hurting himself. But I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help him find an answer or fix our lives. I just know how to love him. So that's what I do. I slowly lift myself up, so I'm hovering over his closed eyes and sheltered expression. I brush his hair back from his eyes and kiss his forehead. A blessing. You will be alright. I gently press my lips to his temple. A prayer. Please find peace. I brush my lips against his. A ray of hope. Never give up. He falters, but laughs a little. I pull away. His eyes are still shut. I close my lips in on his again. A bit more pressure. He perks up some. His arms tighten around me as I rest my hands on either of his cheeks. I feel my hair tussle itself down, cascading like a curtain over us. He slightly pulls away, staring deep into my eyes. His eyes pierce my senses, and I'm consumed by the guilt. Tears spill from my eyes as I breathe deeply. He kisses away my tears lightly, before returning his lips to mine.

Woah. My eyes flutter open revealing complete darkness. I sit up and tap my watch. Yikes, it got late. I switch a lamp on and stretch whilst letting out a little yawn. That's the most sleep I'll be getting tonight.

I head toward my bathroom and start the shower. I replace my clothes with a simple white robe and sit down at the bathroom vanity. I take out my contacts and rub the sleep out of my eyes, the deep circles under my eyes don't do a good job of hiding how tired I am. Just as I start brushing through my long dark hair, I hear my bedroom door open, and keys drop down on a table. Music starts playing from my speakers and Remy struts toward my bathroom. I relax when I realize its just him holding two mugs of tea.

"Hey doll," He chirps from the doorway as I continue to brush my hair, he sets one of the mugs down on my dresser, then starts sipping at the other. "freaking a, that's hot." I laugh and throw my hair up into a bun, then stand up. "Should be cool by the time you're done. " Remy says as he opens a cabinet and tosses me a towel.

"Mm okay, it smells amazing." He laughs at my dazed tone, then leaves, shutting the door. I take off my robe and look in the mirror. I don't like what I see. I'm skinny, frail, unhealthy. Since I started high school there's been huge drops in my weight. My torso isn't completely concave, but enough for me to feel uncomfortable in a bathing suit. The doctors tell me I need to get stronger or I'll start to get brittle, but I'm already an athlete. I play volleyball and I swim, so this shouldn't be a problem, but every year I've felt myself become weaker, felt my life slipping away. I shut off the lights and shower in the dark. The lack of light is refreshing, not consuming and cold. Relaxing, peaceful. I stand for a while, just letting the water devour me. I'm praying that I don't get sick, and I heave deep, unsteady breaths.

When I leave the bathroom I feel much less happy than when I came in. A cloud of steam erupts as I open the door and I see Remy wearing one of my Harry Potter shirts and hardcore jamming to Panic at the Disco, singing into my hairbrush. Once he sees me, he sits me down in my desk chair and spins me so I'm facing him. Still singing, he takes my hair down and starts brushing it. After being braided all day, it bounces around in sweeping curls. He takes the ends of my hair and throws them up while shaking his hips. I can't help but laugh as he spins around, then kisses my forehead, before running off to my closet. He comes out with a sleeveless lace maroon dress that ends just above my knees and black wedged boots. He turns the music down, then lays the dress out on my bed. "Must look perfect for Madame." He exaggerates, then walks back over to me. I frown as I look at the dress.

"I think that dress falls off my shoulders." I murmur as I look down. Remy bends down a little and tilts my chin up.

"It wasn't worthy of your beauty anyways." He scoffs. He runs off and returns with a flowing teal dress that layers down to my knees with mid-arm straps gliding into a sweetheart chest. "Up, up, up. On, on, on." He shoos me. I come out wearing the dress and shoes and fidget as I rub my arms around my neck, hiding my caving collar bones. Remy runs up and pulls my arms away, spinning me to a stop in front of a full length mirror. "Gorgeous." He says as he runs his hands down my arms proudly. I end up sitting in front of the vanity again whilst Remy pins up my hair. He leaves a small chunk of hair to drape over my shoulder after using, maybe 60 bobby pins. Then he lays a beautiful black opal necklace along my shoulders and closes the clasp. And as a final touch, he kisses my forehead.

"Thanks." I say somewhat dryly.

"Of course." He hops and takes a bow. "Now, my turn." He smirks and trots off to my closet. Remy has gotten into the habit of leaving clothes at my house, half of the things he owns occupy my closet. He comes out dressed in all black looking seriously sharp. He leaves the first few buttons undone and folds up his sleeves. He looks good, but then again, he always looks good. He runs his fingers through his hair and glances at his watch, his eye widen, "Oops, eight o'clock, time to go." I sigh.

"Yeah, come on." I breathe. He puts his hand on his waist and holds out his arm to me. We leave the room and descend down the staircase, headed toward the dining room.

"Ah, Abielle, finally. You're late, darling." I walk into the room and see the table full. My mother occupies one end of the table, and a man I've never seen before at the other, with yet another boy that I don't know. The man is dressed in a hideous shirt, with his hair slicked back with a ton of gel, and I can smell his ghastly aftershave from here. What have you done now mother? My mother throws her napkin on her empty plate, and quickly makes her way toward me. "Oh, honey, you could've cleaned up a little." She says slapping Remy's hand away and taking mine. He looks at her in awe. "Well, this'll have to do." She sighs, puts on a happy face, and turns to the man. He nods toward the boy who is absentmindedly playing with a fork, looking annoyed. He is dressed much better than his father. He has dark features to match his dark expression. I don't know what my mother is planning right now, but I don't like it.

"Abielle, this is Harrison and this handsome young man is his son, Brody." She gestures toward them as Harrison takes my hand and brushes it with a kiss, making me even more uncomfortable. I smile.

"Lovely to meet you." Then Brody walks toward me, hands in pockets, and nods graciously and I do the same. Mother's head snaps toward me as she clears her throat. "Hello," I say not knowing what else I could.