The Cure

VIII

My legs burn with the urge to run.

They ache for the exertion that no doubt they desperately need, but I'm too tired and too confused to run.

I'm in more pain from forcing myself not to than if I had ran the five miles home.

I'm now wishing I had told Griffin no.

This is of course stupid because I've never said no to anything he's tried to get me to do before.

I suddenly remember I've known him for eleven years now; met him right after my parents died and I moved in with Ofelia.

It was the first day she sent me into town to buy the groceries that I got lost.

Then all of the sudden, there was Griffin.

He pointed me in the right direction and left.

He's always done that.

Just showed up and disappeared without a sound.

It used to frighten me; now, I expect it.

Maybe that's why I never feel very alone.

As I come into the clearing that leads to our home, I stop and sit down in the dirt right on the edge of our property and the woods.

As I sit here, staring at our house, I think of our home and how, even though Ofelia is my family, we're still not very close.

And I realize, if I ever lose Griffin's company – that is, his friendship – I'll be utterly broken and irreparable. 

I tell myself now is the time to stop being a fuss. I've got to trust someone besides myself because there are just some things you can't do alone. 

Catching outlaw runaways being one of those things; and if I'm going to trust anyone, I'd rather have it be Griffin than someone else.

As I get up and walk towards the house I think perhaps I could tell Griffin about the plant, after all.

...nah, too soon for that.

I open the door and hear the TV click off quickly and a door shut softly. I assume Ofelia was watching more unnecessary television, as I'm always on to her about that, and is trying to hide it.

"Felia?" I call. No answer. "Ofelia? I'm back! Can I talk to you a moment?"

Still no answer. 

"Don't worry, I'm not mad about you watching the TV. I'll forgive you if you make dinner tonight."

No answer but I hear one of the back bedroom doors open and shut again. Walking down the hall, I see my door is open and I'm pretty sure I shut it on my way out this morning.

"Ofelia?" I push the door a bit with my foot. "If you're spring cleaning, I swear, I'm going to k-" I gasp That's when I see what's happened to my room. 

There are clothes everywhere. Strewn about over the dresser hanging out of drawers, over the mirror, across the bed and loads on the floor.

This embarrasses me for two reasons.

One: how ugly my clothes are.

Two: How I have a ridiculous amount. That is to say, far too many.

"Ofelia!!!"

No answer, and now I'm mad. I go to the closet and scream through my teeth at the mess.

It does not look like someone was merely taking a gander at my belongings but ransacking them, as if they were - trying to find something...