What It's Like Loving an Idiot

Twenty Seven || Center of Attention

READ AUTHOR NOTE PLEASE*

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By the time Autumn got some people over here to clean up, James and I were eating at that very moment. I've got to admit, it is weird having people in my apartment, cleaning while I do absolutely nothing. It was never like that at my parent's house. If you didn't wanted to clean, then you had to stay clear out of sight. Which, I mean wasn't that hard considering the fact that there were so many of us in that house when I was younger and with me being one of the younger children, I wasn't always the most helpful. But with living through that, I still feel the urge to go help them in there.

"What's wrong?" James asks me, looking down at his meal briefly before looking back at me.

I shake my head, "Nothing, I just feel like I should go there and help. I mean, they don't know where anything goes, they're going to mess it all up," I worry.

James laughs at me, "Ven, it's already a disaster in there, I don't think that they can ruin it more than it already is. They're paid to do this, I assume. You don't need to feel the need to clean up that mess that you had nothing to do with. I would never put that on you," he takes another fork-full of mashed potatoes.

I nod. I know he's right, but I guess it's just in my nature to help.

By the time we're done with dinner and finished up cleaning, it seemed like those cleaning people are just about done. How they manage to clean up that disaster in under three hours is beyond me. I'm glad that James was so persistent on getting that room cleaned today. The idea of being constantly reminded of the event that happened in my own home is something that I want to avoid at all costs. Maybe James saw that too, maybe he didn't want to be reminded of how much his life has changed based on the disaster of one room.

It's a little bit after seven in the evening and the cleaning people begun to take their equipment down stairs. As soon as they left and the door is shut behind them, I immediately go look at James's room. I just need to know how they left it.

I push the door open and yes, it is cleaner than when we left it, but it was different in more important ways. No, it isn't the fact that it's not organized like it was before, it's the fact of knowing what happened here and it being cleaned up doesn't change much except for the cleanliness of it. The terror of strangers breaking into my own home and ruining it. Am I really safe at this point? If they don't get what they want, will they specifically come after James or I or both of us? I feel that these questions are unanswerable right now. I feel scared and hopeless, like anything I do won't matter inevitably. As James had put up these walls to keep me separated from this madness and all, I saw it as a way to push me out of his life, but instead he was protecting me from the most indefinite certainty of terror and chaos.

"Vena!" James calls me from across the apartment. Had he not been injured, chances are that he would have probably gotten up and found me but his laziness is justified.

I close the bedroom door and return back to the living room to James, "Yes?" I ask.

I naturally cross my arms over my chest when I feel a chill run through my body. He looks up me from looking at his phone. He pats the spot beside him. With not much convincing at all, I sit down beside him.

"Are you worrying again?" he asks more bluntly than ever. He tosses his phone on the chair. He looks at me, waiting for an answer. I nod to him, "You know I can't help it, especially now."

He smiles and moves a lock of my hair to behind my ear. "Since the beginning all this happened, I promised myself that I would make sure you are safe under all circumstances."