The Cure

III

It's not a long walk to Griffin's home; not as long as the walk from Ofelia's house to town, but it's a good enough amount of time for Griffin to loosen up and me to start talking again.

I'm still tired, but I bite my wagging tongue for the time being, as I know it's not right to try and crack jokes when someone is obviously struggling with emotion, as Griffin is at the moment. 

We reach the apartment, on the corner of 5th and Main, right as the factory clock tower rings eleven.

I'm shocked to see what time it is, considering I left home around eight.

Griffin pushes open the front door into a small lobby where a scruffy looking man sits asleep at the minuscule office desk.

I've only seen him once before, as Griffin's only brought me to their apartment once, but I suddenly remember that his name is Bob.

"Does he always sleep like that?" I ask.

"Yeah," Griffin snorts. "He doesn't have a bed."

"Yes, he does," I contradict. "That chair is obviously quite suitable." 

"True." 

We walk up nine flights of stairs, the elevator having been out of use for over ten years, until we reach the final landing and go to room 129.

Griffin gets out a key and I grab his arm in a rougher fashion then he did earlier.

"What have you done?" I hiss through my teeth.

He turns and looks at me, all too guiltily.

I'm not an idiot and I know there is only one key to their apartment.

"Don't tell me you..." He cuts me off.

"I had to!" Griffin yells back, then looks around hurriedly and lowers his voice.

"You haven't seen her. I had to bring you here because I can't calm her down. She's - I- don't look at me like that!"

I release his arm and grab the key from his hand, pushing it into the lock and turning it, heat rising to my face as I feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull.

When the door's clicks to, I kick it open with my foot and wince.

Light is streaming in through the windows and I see dust floating everywhere and furniture is all over turned.

I cringe at how dirty everything is.

"Where is she?" I say through clenched teeth.

I'm just now remembering how much I hate Griffin.

"Let me go first," he says, pushing me aside to step through and clear a path as he goes.

It's so small in here that even the shortest stack of papers or books makes everything appeared cluttered.

And the dust...the dust and dirt and grime; definitely unacceptable. 

"Mother?" Griffin whispers through the house.

"Mother? I've brought someone to see you. It's Adler. She wants to see you."

We move into the sitting room and I run my finger along the windowsill and come away unable to look at my finger but wipe it on my pants instead.

I notice the blinds are heaped on the ground and I realize that's why it's so bright.

Griffin goes off looking into the bedrooms and I stand, uncomfortably, in this house that feels so foreign to me even though the only person I've ever become close with lives in it.