6 months to live

Noise

My birthday was just around the corner. I would now..finally be a legal adult.

"My birthday's coming up," I playfully pinched Santiago's big toe. He was lain on the floor taking pictures of me.

"How old are you going to be?" He snapped a pic.

"Eighteen!" I squealed.

   His response was a little chuckle. It looked like he was going through pictures on his camera.

     "Why are you laughing?" I crossed my arms.

     "Nothing," he tried to hold back a laugh but instead he started to have a laughing fit.

   I took the camera out of his hands. Santiago was good at photography but there was this one picture that irked me.

       "This picture is horrible!" I snapped my head away when I looked at it. "You took it when I was talking!"

     He held his stomach as he laughed. He started to speak when he finally had control over himself, "I was going to delete it, but you looked so cute that I didn't have the guts to do it."

        I rolled my eyes. "Delete it...now!"

       He smirked at me. "You know it's really obvious when people have low self-esteem." I was going to scold him but he changed the subject. "Isn't it weird that horses can't vomit?"

Sometimes I worried about Santiago. Conversations usually started seriously and then went down a childish path. I didn't know whether it was purposely or whether he had a condition that enabled him to do that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Santiago texted me saying that he went to the supermarket. He didn't say what for but I knew it wasn't for food. The fridge was ridiculously full to a point where you would be risking your life if you opened it. Somehow I would still find a way to say that there was nothing to eat.

Twenty minutes and he still hadn't arrived.

Maybe he's planning a surprise birthday party for me? My stomach churned. He really didn't have to do anything for me. Although it was nice.

Suddenly out of nowhere

A muffled sound came from Santiago's room

Get out of here. Don't go investigate it, don't go investigate it, my self conscious screamed at me.

My feet touched the fuzzy carpet and I was finally up from the couch for the first time that day. Sure I could've just left Santiago's place but I didn't know my way home. My memory was slowly decreasing leaving me with a small fraction of my childhood memories.

It's just Santiago. How bad could it be?

----------------------------

I would have gotten the funk out of there. Memory or no memory, that doesn't smell right.

Santiago, baby, what are you hiding?