Love At First Touch

ºLet me think about itº

Chapter two:

"Where do you think you're putting that?" Mom shouted once again.

"You told me to put it here, don't you remember?" I said for the tenth time.

"Did I? Anyways, it's over there." She said pointing at the corner of the living room.

"Honey, calm down." Dad said caressing her back. "We just got here, let's not rush things over."

Mom sat on the nearest chair and sighed, "I'm just worried with the moving, your mom's house, Charlotte, and the new town." She said while taking the glass of water Charlie handed her and swallowing a huge amount of it. "It just stresses me out."

I left the box in the corner where I was ordered to and went out to take some air. This town seemed really pretty at noon. We moved to a place completely far away from everything. We were practically the only ones here, in a corner of this darned place.

I walked a few meters away from the house; exotic flowers came to view. I bent down and picked the most odd one. Even when I was a kid, odd and out of normal called my attention the most. I remember I used to draw a lot of dark and mysterious drawings. Teachers called my parents at least twice a week because of that. They found it weird how other girls squealed over colorful pictures and cute things, but I didn't even flinch. Mom has always tried to convince me to be like that but I can't. That's just not my true nature.

After picking it up, I examined it for various reasons: firstly, because it may have bugs on it. If I ever think of smelling it, which most probably I will, I wouldn't like to have a lady bug on the insides of my nostril or anything like that. Secondly, it may be poisonous. Although I should have thought of that one before making contact with It. And thirdly, because I like to feel identified with it.

How can I feel identified?

Simple.

I have this gift from when I was little, and that is to know how living things feel just by touch. I don't know how I can nor where did I get that from, but I just know I do. I swung from doctor to doctor, scientists, and even philosophers, but none could come up with an explanation. First, my fingers tickle, and then, depending on the mood of that person or thing, it sends vibrations through my nervous system and into my brain. It somehow tells me what it is thinking or even feeling in that exact moment.

If I truly am identified with it then it most probably turn out fine. Maybe that's the reason why I have no friends. I feel what they feel through touch and I know how they fake to like me. I'm a very honest person so I don't like to be 'fake' to other people, so I just simply push them away. I don't need them anyways. Or so I thought.

I took my time to smell it. Once I felt connected, my mood risens. The lingering feeling of amusement and kindness washed itself in the Inside depths of my heart. My soul, intertwined with flowers', removed the residue of hate in my whole system. Getting carried away by the flowers scent, I laid my body on top of the green, just recently cut off, grass.

Prrr prrr

Hmmm, my butt tickles.

Prrr prrr

Wait... My butt tickles.

Prrr prrr

I searched desperately in my back pocket, just where my cellphone was. I took it out and answered.

"Yes?" I asked feeling a bit shaken.

"Where did you run off to?" She said while I removed the phone away from my ear for a milisencond.