My American Idiot ~ Septiplier

4

"I told them, Jack! I told Felix you'd come! Y'know, I don't think he believed me, but I told him. I said, 'He wouldn't leave me on my own for a whole day! Never once missed a day and he won't start now!' and I was right. Here you are!" the woman chirped, an accent pulling at her words. Mark tried to place it for a second. Irish? Scottish? It wasn't really his business.

The woman's mannerisms were bordering on hyper, her movements quick and jumpy like she'd just downed 6 cups of coffee in one sitting. She waved a hand towards Mark, beckoning him to sit in one of the chairs set out beside her bed with a smile. Hesitantly Mark moved through the door and closed it behind him, shuffling closer to the bed until he could fall into the chair with a quiet sigh.

A look around the room revealed the woman either hadn't been here long or had no family to visit her. The floor was layered with worn out magazines and unlike his great-aunt's room, there were no family pictures or flowers adorning her table or locker. Instead, there was a single pack of candy; Skittles, Mark noted. The rainbow-colored packaging adding a little brightness to the dull brown and cream color scheme of Sunny Side.

"Jack, why did they say you wouldn't come?" came the woman's scratchy voice, snapping him out of his observations.

Mark blinked for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. "W-well, I- I felt a bit ill earlier. Wasn't sure if I could make it today."

Who was this 'Jack' guy? Mark wondered. Was he her brother? Husband? Son? Father? Why wasn't he here? Didn't he turn up? Was he ok? Was he just a dick who left mentally unstable women in a home and never came back? The questions spiraled through Mark's head at a million miles per hour until he gave up on them. After all, who would answer him?

The woman's smile fell a little, concerned. "Honey, you should've stayed at home if you felt sick. You know I wouldn't mind," she assured him before her expression brightened once again. "But you're here now."

He nodded giving her a tiny smile, guilt pricking at his stomach. "Yeah, I'm here now."

She clapped her hands in her joy before lying back on her bed again and looking at the television. She seemed to be transfixed by the man on the screen who was commentating over a football game of some sort. Mark's foot hit something under the bed.

He was going to ignore it, he really was. But then, as time wore on and the woman showed no signs of moving any time soon, he risked a glance under the bed to see what his foot kept knocking against.

The glance revealed a little black rucksack was stashed under the bed. There was a tiny design on the fabric, drawn on with marker. It was a little green thing, maybe some sort of eye with a tail? Mark moved closer to the drawing in confusion. What the hell was that thing even supposed to be?

"Jack!"

Mark looked up at the woman whose gaze was now firmly fixed on him once more. "Yeah?"

Her face broke into her trademark 1000 watt smile again. She had such kind eyes. "You can't eat the sand, honey! C'mere you've got it all down your front, ya silly!" she laughed lightly, reaching out a thin hand to gently caress the air in front of her like it was something special, beautiful. The look on her face was nothing short of pure adoration and awe as she looked straight through Mark and deeper into her daydream. Into her memory.

The few seconds which followed were filled with a ridiculous tension that held Mark's every muscle stationary. He didn't have the heart to shatter the look of absolute peace on the nameless woman's face by making any sudden movements.

When he eventually realized that she wasn't going anywhere any time soon his eyes traveled back to the bag in his hands, curiosity creeping into his mind like mist. His fingers began to toy with the zip, the temptation proving to be too much for him as he finally tightened his grip and opening the bag with a few sharp tugs.