Connections

I ~ Not Quite a Wrong Delivery

"Aaaand that's that!"

I exhaled sharply, stepping back to take in my newest product. The colors were a bit smudgey, but I liked the shading. However, the trees were so out of proportion.

It never ceased to amaze me that I still couldn't paint my own yard after twenty-one years of seeing it.

I sighed again, but slower this time; I wanted to take in the air one more time before I went inside. I would've stayed out longer, but... Let's just say that's a bad idea for the old epidermis. I'm so weak nowadays.

The door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, revealing the - my - huge, Victorian-style kitchen. Yay.

I furrowed my brow. "I should really get that oiled or... something. Can you oil a door's hinges?" Not like I knew. My dad was the handy one of the family. Well, our little family, anyway. He didn't teach me how these things work, though. Never got the chance...

I shook my head, feeling my eyes growing warm. "Shut up. It's been, like, forever since it happened. Just let it go." That was my little routine. Wake up, paint, maybe eat something, paint some more, and convince myself I'm doing fine.

And then paint some more, and go to bed. And oh, what a restful sleep it was.

Anyway.

I sat in front of the pitiful fire I had tried to start in my hearth - okay, fireplace. Dad called it a hearth....

There was a sudden bang of what I - after a moment - assumed to be thunder that stopped my train of thought - and nearly my heart. However, I regained composure after looking outside to see the multitude of water pouring down from the heavens, and trusted my theory.

The moon spilled through the gargantuan bay windows that littered the towering walls of the living area, and the rugs soaked up its cold rays, combating the warm color the fire stained its surroundings with. Somehow, it was raining, yet the moon managed to peek through the thick cloud cover without much of a break. I stared up at the large, floating light that so violently assaulted the shadows made by the night. Even the raindrops looked like crystal. They'd probably turn to crystal - well, ice - in a couple months or so. Even if it was barely September, everything was so cold. It's always cold. In here, at least. Ever since he -

Thump.

Thump.

My heart leapt up to my throat. Is that...

Someone?

"Oh crap... What do I do??" I hadn't talked to anyone in years! What if I mess up?

"No, it's worse, you idiot," I chastised myself hastily. My left hand covered my lips.

What if they were here for me?

Just like the others?

What if..

"Okay, hold it. Stop being stupid. I'm sure someone's just lost, or made a wrong delivery. I'll go open the door, and tell them off, and everything will be okay," I reasoned with myself. However, my nerves were still leaping inside me. Each step I took was shakier than I was in the morning, and that's saying something. Pathetic, I know.

My free hand slid over the titanic doorknob, twisted, and pulled on the wooden gateway . And all I did was stare.

There was a person.

A real, live person.

He was so drenched, I couldn't see his face, or make out any clear features. His dark, matted hair covered his head, dousing it with even more water than came down from the clouds above. His arm leaned on the titanic doorframe, supported his weight. His toned back heaved from deep breaths racking his frame. Suddenly, he spoke. Through the heavy pattering of the rain, I made out the words:

"So *cough* *wheeze* you like jazz?"

Then he fell over - right on top of me.

"Ouch!! Dang it!" I exclaimed as the man and I attempted to regain our composure before crashing to the floor again. After a moment, the man rolled off of me, and I propped myself up on both arms. The man's face - from what I could see; it was still mainly blanketed with curly hair, mind you - was an unnatural crimson. "I'm really sorry about that, la-ba-ma'am. I didn't mean to-" His sentence was cut short by a round of violent coughing. It was then that I realized that the man was hurt. He had what looked to be a gunshot wound close to the appendix.

Not like I wasn't scared out of my mind - this is totally out of my friggin' comfort zone.

However, if there was one thing that my dad taught me, it's how to protect a life in crisis.

Let's just hope I haven't forgotten...

ᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯᏯ

*To the beginning of the Mario Theme*

Crappy crappy crap crap!

Shoot.

Crapshoot's back! She's gonna go write and ruin your lives and your brains!

...I got nothing else.

What's poppin' my dudes?

Yeah, I know, this is probably really bad, but I was literally just playing the Sims 4 this evening and I just thought of this based on a couple Sims I made.

Hehe.

Well, if anyone even sees this, lemmie know whatcha think so far!

I'mma actually try and do something with my life...

During the school year...

That's gonna go well 👌

Anyway, have a splendid (day) (next couple of hours) (night spent on YouTube/Wattpad. You know who you are)