Synesthesia

The Treehouse

ANA

She slapped me. On the face. But didn't really mean anything. She was drunk, as usual. Everything was red. When she screamed my name it even tasted like red. It smelled like red. The world had gone red.

I ran up to my room and hid under the covers. 

I lived in the attic. I had books stacked everywhere. And when I say 'books were everywhere', I mean it. There were some stacks that were up to the celing, and others that were toggling over dangerously far. 

I sat there and thought.

I thought about Caleb, and why he had comforted me the way he had. Why? Why did I trust him? Why didn't I trust myself to trust him? Did my aunt have anything to do with it at all? And why on earth did he want to see me again? I wasn't anything special, I wasn't beautiful and I wasn't... strong. No matter what he said.

But I did trust him. I did. And I was going to have to deal with that. If my heart shattered, I would sweep up the pieces and glue them together again. 

And in that moment, I decided that a broken heart would be worth loving Caleb for.  So I would. I would trust him not to break my heart. 

But still, somewhere inside my head, tiny voices, my demons, wailed, still afraid of what might happen. 

 I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop thinking about him. His green eyes. His half grin. His hair. Blue was the only color I saw, and it scared me. It truly scared me. To the point I told myself that I wasn't going to go to the treehouse for my sake, and his.

But I had to. For Caleb. For the promise that I had made to myself. That I would trust.

Blue. The color of complete trust and selfless caring.

I wasn't ready.

I was ready.

But...

I was ready.

My aunt was knocked out. She was so drunk, that she was unconcious. The color brown surrounded her. 

I grabbed a sweatshirt, my green canvas one, and I ran. I ran and ran, the color yellow on my tounge and in the air.  The color of relief. A tiny swirl of orange. The color of happiness.

No. You aren't happy to go see Caleb, I told myself.

Oh, but I was. I was immenssly happy. I was blissfully drowning in the color blue.

CALEB

The Treehouse

I was waiting for her. I had been waiting for her ever since baseball practice this morning.

 And then there she was, finally. Smiling, breathless from running and-

"What the heck is on your cheek."

"What?" she said, subconciously touching her cheek.

"Did you try and put blush on one cheek or something?" I asked her. She laughed for a second, but then she bit her lip.

"Um, Oh this?" she said, "Its nothing, don't worry about-"

"She hit you, didn't she."

"......Yeah."

"Does she do that a lot?"

"Really," she pleaded, "Its not a big deal-"

"Oh my gosh."

"Don't tell anyone," she said fiercly, "I decided to trust you."

"Why?"

"She'll kill me," Ana whispered, "She will literally kill me. For real. Like I will have a gravestone."

Oh my gosh.

That's all I can say.

She trusts me, but if I'm going to do the right thing for her, I'm going to tell somebody. But she trusts me...

"We need to get out of here," I said.

I took her hand and led her to my house. 

My mom was there. Smiling. I had told her about Ana's aunt and Ana herself. My mom already loved her.

My mother is a thin woman. She's got blond hair that she always has pinned up in some way shape or form. She's understanding. She gets people. She knows how to help. But she's strong. Just like Ana, she's strong. 

"Mom," I say, relieved. She rolls her eyes as I plop myself down at the kitchen table. Ana sits next to me.

"Mom," I say again.

"What, son?" she says jokingly. 

"Can Ana stay in the spare bedroom tonight?"  I saw her already eyeing the red handprint on Ana's cheek suspiciously.

"Of course!" she said, "Ana, are you alright?" 

"Really, ma'm, it's nothing."

"I know exactly what that is and who gave that to you young lady, don't you go telling me its 'nothing,'" my mother says with a an 'I mean business' expression upon her worried face.  Ana bites her lip.

My mother hurries over to the beeping oven and pulls out a pie. Ana gasps.

"Stuff yourselves silly," my mother says.

"Thanks ma'm," Ana says.

"Stop with the ma'm's already. Call me mom, you seem to have never really had one the way they are supposed to be," she said. Ana nodded. My mom left the room. 

"How long am I staying here?" she whispered into my ear.

"As long as you want," I said, "I'm not letting you go back to that woman."

"Okay," Ana said happily, helping herself to a slice of pie.

I was happy. But still confused. Very confused.