The Run

187

As soon as they enter the room, the man crashes onto the bed. He doesn't care that the mattress is hard as a rock, or that the box springs creak under his weight, and he doesn't care that dust flies up in the air as he lands on the scratchy duvet. For all he knows, the sheets might even be invaded by flees or stink bugs, but he couldn't care less. All he wants is sleep.

"Ew," Emmie's voice resonates in his ear as the door closes behind her. "I'm not sleeping in this."

Even under close lids, the man's eyes roll so far back his head starts to throb and, reluctantly, he rolls over on the bed to face her. "Feel free to sleep on the floor then," he shrugs nonchalantly, "but I'm not sure it's cleaner anyway." His eyes drop to the floor, landing on a dubious stain on the carpet, a whitish shape standing out from the dark blue shade.

"I don't even wanna know," she mutters as she takes a few quick steps towards the bathroom and slams the door shut behind her. 

The man almost grins as he hears water pour out from the shower, punctuated with diverse ew's and yuck's from his female companion. He stays still for a while, hands behind his head, contemplating the numerous complaints of the girl until he decides to get rid of his jeans and t-shirt to slip under the covers. He hates that silence isn't his loyal associate anymore, but he looks forward to the next day as his head hits the pillow again. He'll be alone soon enough. 

"Am I sleeping next to you?" Emmie asks, and the man is startled. He was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard the water stop in the bathroom. 

"I told you", he goes, barely glancing at her although he notices the towel perched on top of her head, "you're free to sleep on the fl-"

"Oh, shut up!" 

The man feels the covers shift as she joins him into bed, careful not to get too close. She turns and twists, tapping the pillow to get more comfortable, then finally stops moving. The light is still on, but the man couldn't be bothered, and he feels himself slowly dozing off when-

"I'm not even tired."

For a second, he thinks about pretending to be asleep already, but something inside gets him to turn around and open his eyes. The towel that was holding back her hair has now disappeared, probably laying on the floor, and Emmie's still wet hair is framing her face. Her bright green eyes are wide open as she looks at the ceiling.

"It's two in the morning," he says, knowing the words won't cure her of her untiredness.

She shrugs, turning her head towards him this time. "Does it matter?"

"It does to me. You slept in the car, I didn't. Goodnight." And with these words he turns around again, closing his eyes for what he hopes is the last time, at least for tonight. 

"This mattress is so hard."

The man ignores her. There's nothing he can do now, is there? If she at least tried to shut up, maybe she would end up falling asleep and he himself could get some rest. But her breathing doesn't seem to want to slow down as she keeps babbling - complaining, really -, even though he stays silent. And when she finally seems to get the message, and he thinks he'll manage to doze off for a couple hours, she goes on again.

"You've never asked me why I was crying."

He stays silent, but maybe she can also feel his breathing hasn't slowed down and he's not really asleep because she continues. "Y'know, when I came down from my apartment. You never asked-"

"Maybe because I don't want to know."

The man hates himself for being so weak, for giving her confirmation that he's actually listening to every word she says. But as she keeps going on, he can't deny he's hypnotized by the sounds of her voice, low and whispery against the silence of the night. 

"He wasn't there, you know. My boyf- I mean, ex-boyfriend."

"You were scared of him. That's what you told me. So that was a good thing, wasn't it? Now-"

"I was. But still, I loved him."

The man sighs. He doesn't want to, but he turns around again. She's lying on her side now. She's been talking to his back all that time, possibly hoping for him to turn around and be a shoulder to cry on. But he can't do that. He can't be a support system to someone else, to a stranger,  when he can't even support himself. Yet, he watches her, not blinking once, almost encouraging her to go ahead in spite of himself.

"I was secretly hoping he would be there to stop me from running away. I thought he loved me too, at least a little bit. I thought he cared. I thought he could change."

The man still doesn't look away, even as tears now mark their way onto her skin or pool in the corner of her eye. He feels sad. Not because he empathises with her hopes to be loved by the man she loves, but because he pities her. She has not yet understood the human condition, he thinks. She is bound to be disappointed again and again until the truth imprints itself into her. 

"People don't change, you know. At least, not in a good way. Once they turn bad, you can't get them back."

To his surprise, she chuckles as she wipes tears from her cheeks. "Is this your way of cheering me up?"

"I don't cheer people up. Cheering people up is lying to them, making them believe things aren't as bad as they seem. Things are bad. You better get that straight into your head, otherwise, you're bound to be deceived again."

She doesn't speak for a while, just stares at him deeply, like trying to decipher what lies behind his eyes, but she's not getting very far. He's well guarded, and he intends on staying that way. "Why are you like this?" she finally whispers, looking away.

"Like what?"

"I don't know," she says, shrugging her shoulders slightly and still avoiding his eyes. "All dark and... hopeless."

The word resonates in his ears for a while, but as much as he hates it, he can't deny it's the perfect word to describe his being. He has no hope whatsoever. He knows how it all is going to end. It's like he read the book a thousand times; he doesn't even want to read anymore. He just wants to skip to the last page. The last word. The end. He is hopeless. 

"So is life," he ends up saying, but his voice is so low he doesn't know if she even hears it.