A Letter To My Love: A Stolen Novel

Chapter 12

For the next day or so, you watched me more, but you didn't speak to me much. You probably had a sore throat from all of that absurd screaming. 

I liked to think you were becoming a notice, too and that I was rubbing off on you. 

As my usual routine, I went outside to work on my painting as you slept. I couldn't wait to show you, and then maybe, just maybe, you'd understand me better and wouldn't think I was a monster but a hero hidden in disguise. 

I wiped the sweat off my brow with a dirty white rag-colored black and stepped back from my masterpiece. It was so beautiful, a beautiful thing that doesn't quite recognize its' beauty yet, but soon it will. 

I headed back inside during breakfast time to wash up and possibly conjure up something in the kitchen to get you to eat something. 

I don't think you realized it, but you were becoming bone skinny, and your skin took a gray undertone to it no matter how hot it was; the gray lingered. 

I washed my face and hands in the small bathroom with excess red sand from my boots all over the floorboards. I love how the sand got everywhere; it was always there through thick and thin, no matter the person you are and the person you're becoming. 

Through your closed door, I heard that same annoying etching I've heard for days now announcing that you were up. 

I knew that you had stolen a dull knife, but I let you keep it in hopes you wouldn't use it violently towards me. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

I went to the kitchen, grabbed two crafted tea bags, and set them gently in the green painted mugs. 

I made homemade porridge with a hint of honey in there for flavoring and Jasmine tea. I knew you liked Jasmine tea from the weekly trips you made to that local coffee shop, Steam Dreams. You always sat in a corner booth as your friends gathered around you, but you always seemed detached from them, alone in thought. What were you always thinking about? Escape? Paradise? I wonder. 

I brought the tray to your room as you refused it straight away. I sighed and left the tray on your nightstand as you lay as dead as ever. 

As I shut the door to your room, I heard the clinking of silverware on the bowl. 

I smiled in the satisfaction that you were eating a bit. 

Knowing that you were eating, I felt better going out to work on my project. 

I closed the door to the building with my art supplies and began crafting as usual. I always hoped that someday this wouldn't be such a lonely place, and you could watch me as I paint or quite possibly have a corner all to yourself. Gemma's corner. I smiled at the thought as I painted happiness in streaks of reds and pinks and purples. Then I painted green, your favorite color. I seemed to paint in green a lot that day. 

I finished up painting green gems in a field of red sand and finally stopped for the night. 

You were sitting in a small corner of the living room when I arrived inside. You saw me, and quickly your breath hitched as if the sight of me made your skin crawl. 

I began talking to you, but it was all a dead end. 

"I can make you a cup of tea." I tried, but nothing came back, no response, no bite, nothing. 

I sat down in thought to produce more words directed towards you. 

You looked at me and backed out of the room, staring at me the whole time.