PSYCHOPATH

chapter 8: hallelujah

Chapter 8: Hallelujah

~"Allah re, tell me why

You made it so that taking a kiss full on the mouth feels like weeping: the helpless swell, its delicious spill.

I need. I need."~

Tarfia Faizullah, from 'Registers of Illuminated Villages'

At eight years of age, he envied the neighbors' black creature that liked to sleep on their back porch. He would run his fingers along its spine, making sure that his fingertips traced every bump. He loved it so much he wanted to hold it in his hands.

His mother had laughed when he had told her and said, "You shouldn't hold cats you don't know."

He was quiet after that, because she misunderstood. He wasn't talking about the cat. He was talking about its spine.

****

Ella had woken up the next morning, feeling slightly grimy from not having changed her clothes but also feeling like she had had the best sleep of her life. It was about time she caught up on sleep. Hopefully last night helped lighten the dark bags under her eyes. Sitting up, her muscles aching, she felt dried tears upon her face, sticky with smeared makeup.

Something shifted next to her, dipping the bed. Oscar was sitting at her feet, still fast asleep. Someone was sleeping next to her.

Rapidly turning around, her eyes landed on Will. Oh right. She nearly forgot about the chaos of yesterday. How she was going to have a dinner date with him. How the Code Killer broke in. How she talked to him, how he was so close to her. How her security system has been compromised. How Berlin and Will were siblings.

How her life was in shambles.

She was lucky to have Will. He made her feel safe she realized. She was certain her good sleep came from the security he provided her. It seemed like he needed the rest too because when she got out of bed, Will still remained in a deep sleep. Tilting her head to the side, Ella peered down at him. Maybe it was a little creepy but he looked peaceful when he slept. Not in constant cynicism or torment from his troubled mind.

Dark eyelashes fanned over his pale cheekbones. Curly black hair was flattened to his forehead. Mouth slightly agape. Sleeping made all of his stress and wrinkles disappear from his face, no more conflict contorting the features, he almost looked like a prince.

He was pretty.

Ella giggled at the random thought. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she straightened up cautiously. Too loud. It would be awkward if he woke up and found her crouching over him.

Moving away, she chose a simple and pretty white dress from her closet. Ella hadn't gone to church in a long time but she knew that church attire was relatively formal and modest. Ella showered and scrubbed the muddy makeup from yesterday off her face. After brushing and drying her hair, she went into the kitchen to put four pieces of bread, two for each of them, in the toaster. It would be their breakfast, as small and sad as it was.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up when she walked into the kitchen. Traumatic memories afflicted the countertops and pantries. It was only a few hours ago when she was lying on the cold floor crying because he was there with her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still felt like he was there and it was hard to overcome the eerie sensation.

When Will woke up, Ella already ate her toast and his was cold. It became apparent he was not much of a morning person. He said only a few words to her, those being good morning and thanks for the toast, choosing to eat his breakfast in silence. Ella wasn't complaining she wasn't up for talking much either. All she kept thinking about was how she was going to see Berlin again, with Will, and that would be incredibly awkward.