Ameles potamos

Chapter 3: Speck of the past

The next day during breakfast Nickolas moved his plate slightly offering it for me; I'm starting to think he's anorexic but by the well built shape of his body, that thought vanished.

"Thanks I'm not hungry." I lied, wanting him to know that I'm once again talking even though he never knew me before.

"Well. I'm not hungry either." he replied

I wouldn't lie but his eyes were one of the most interesting eyes I have ever seen. They weren't soft or gentle, they were soulful and dark, as if he is hollowed from the inside. His pale blue eyes would send darts of pain and fear that contrasted with their light color. They were casting a glimpse of his inner confliction, or at least that's what I thought at the time.

The more I think about it the more it provokes me; He wasn't even a bit surprised with my new found talent of talking. Maybe I'm mistaken to have thought people should be astonished to my recent incident, I mean we are in a mental hospital, these things happen on a daily basis.

That same day I headed to Julianne's office after debating with myself whether I should tell her who exactly is D.D. or not.

That's when I realized; that maybe telling her what happened would help me convince her that I'm not sick and this place here isn't for me, and prove to her that I don't, in fact, belong between maniacs and psychopaths.

I knocked gently on the door and turned the door knob to get inside and found her talking on the phone. She smiled at me and ushered me to sit. I sat down holding the golden watch in my hand and waited.

When she was done she sat opposite me waiting for me to start talking,

"I would love to get better... and I thought that maybe if I t-talked to you; y-you'd help me" I was lying. And stuttering. Again.

I prayed to the gods above, she didn't notice.

Who am I kidding of course she knew I was lying, but fortunately she said nothing and asked me to start telling her whatever I wanted to say. God, I hate it when I'm treated like a child, anyway, she asked me to relax and if I need anything.

"No, I'm perfectly fine."

"Okay Niala I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable."

"I'm fine." Except that I wasn't. In fact my thoughts were being buried deep in the memories. I remembered everything I was about to narrate to her and fortunately for me she was the person I needed right now.

Two years ago there it was a long tiring day and I decided on that day to go visit my father at his grave.

. . . . . .

"Your father?" Julianne interrupted

"Yes my father." I replied in annoyance, a result for her interrupting.

"At his grave?" she insisted.

"Yes, at his grave. Is something wrong?" I queried.

"No Nia. Do you mind if I call you Nia?"

I did mind but... "No, of course not."

"Go on Nia. I won't interrupt, not anymore."

"Okay,"

. . . . . . .

Like I said before, It was two years ago and I was so tired that day and desperately in need to talk to someone. So I decided to head to my father's grave.

That exact day at the cemetery I could hear the crow's caw loud and clear. I walked slowly with only the sound of my feet and the rustling of the dead leaves until I reached his graveyard and allowed myself a few minutes to try and recognize the person sitting by the graveyard before I headed directly towards him. I looked carefully and tried to remember, but had no luck recalling this face from any of my acquaintances.

I got closer and sat down near that man. He looked like he was the same age as mine or maybe a year older or two.

I approached him wondering what he was doing at my father's grave...

"Umm... Hello?"

He shot me a glare with his piercing brown eyes as if I interrupted something very important, maybe I did I don't know

"Hello" he said as his eyes rested upon my face and his features relaxed.

"Did you know my father?" I had to ask that question...

"Wow I'm impressed that someone has fewer morals than I do"

I smiled at that, he was kind of right but still, I had to know.

"Well I'm surprised I have any morals at all"

He smiled back.

A very gracious smile I must add.

"I'm Niala" I tried to make this awkward situation better.

"Well nice to meet you, I'm Dylan. And no I didn't have the pleasure of knowing your father"

"Oh, so what brings you to his grave?"

"I needed someone to talk to and randomly I ended up choosing this one"

"Well people tell me I'm a good listener" I told him

It was too late when I realized that this is considered flirting which I guarantee you, wasn't my intention, or at least that's what I thought.

"Well since I'm desperate I'll give you a try..."

"You know those days when you wake up, look in the mirror and unfortunately see the true self of yours. That happened, in addition to some other few things"

I was listening carefully, watching every move he made, examining the way he changed his tone, the way his eyes relaxed and tensed, the way he talked rapidly then slowed down, even though I wasn't listening carefully I could make out what was causing him some trouble, it was something about a girl and back then I thought she was his ex girlfriend but I figured that he was talking about his sister. The only thing I couldn't help but notice was his muscular body, the way his muscles swayed as he moved his arms.

Yes I know; I get distracted easily.

There was this line that caught my attention and got me out of my practical state

"You know no one can ever stay in the dark forever. That is a fact; you know what else is a fact?"

"What?" I wondered

"Everything is a lie"

"What makes you say that?"

"The simplest of all things, like what happened to me today. I woke up peace in mind and soul, suddenly looked at the mirror and saw how empty and hollow I am. How unhappy I am. I've tricked myself many times before. But everyone tricks themselves into thinking they are happy"

"I still don't get your point... I mean NO. I do but I disagree, But unfortunately I have to go, I have some place I need to be right now" I said looking at the watch in my wrist. "It was a pleasure to meet you here today Dylan"

"The pleasure is all mine" he looked displeased by the fact that this conversation was over.

We shook hands and then he said

"Maybe we should meet again, like next week... same time, same place?"

"Oh?"

"Not a date no! I just want to know what's your opinion of what I said... and not that you're not pretty ... I just mean..." he remained silent for a few seconds "...I think you know what I mean?" he asked. NO I didn't know what he meant

But I managed to smile and say "Yes I do. Okay so next week?"

"Yeah. And by the way, you are a good listener"

That made my day I can tell you.

. . . . . .

"So that's how we met me and the person whose 'golden clock' belong to"

"Dylan?"

"Yes. Dylan."