Asunder

Chapter 12 - Something Better

A day of doing nothing goes by slow. So after what feels like I've spent an eternity on virtually nothing, sitting at the kitchen table with headphones on, it's still only one o'clock.

I sigh at the time shown on my phone. After talking to Sky last night, I fell back to sleep immediately, and stayed knocked out until ten in the morning. Apparently I've been sitting here for three hours.

I haven't thought about our conversation since last night, only because it didn't want to give it more importance than it has. And because I don't really know how much importance it has. It's easier not to reflect on it. But still, I've been having to divert myself with music for these past three hours.

Though it wasn't just for distraction. In light of my new idea of making my last months enjoyable, I woke this morning with music in mind. I remembered how it used to make me feel, how performing made me soar high into the clouds. How I loved to take whoever listened up there with me. How I would spend hours like this, going through my favorite songs and back. I decided to try it again.

But it hasn't been working.

I exhale a heavy breath and rip my headphones off of my ears. It really isn't working.
Three hours of countless abandoned playlists. And I feel nothing. I've gotten nothing out of them, and I'm more tired and uninspired than when I started. Music's just another something I've lost, another something that can't reach me anymore.

I hold back the tears I feel coming behind my eyes, and avert my gaze from the headphones to the room around me.

The round, black table I'm sitting at is sturdy and strong, enough to have survived years and years of family suppers. At the opposite side of the table, floor to ceiling windows show the patio and the small, empty yard beyond. White sunlight comes through the glass almost violently, and I would've gotten up to close the blinds hours ago if I had the energy. Behind me is the kitchen proper, and its marble counter, before which stand three far-apart bar stools. To my right is the hallway which led me here from the stairs, with old still-life paintings hung up on its white walls. And to my left, a window shows me the neighbors' house, the one Sky's family just moved into.
It seems they've settled in already, after only a couple of days. Though his parents did seem like the type of people to get things done quickly.

I peer forward and look to the window to see if they're home when the sound of the doorbell rings from my right, echoing through the hallway towards the kitchen.

"Any idea who that could be?" my mom says, and I yelp, caught completely off guard at her sudden appearance.
"Mom!" I hold my hand to my raging heart, "When did you get here?"
She furrows her eyebrows and looks at me weirdly. "What do you mean? I've been here for an hour."

She shuffles towards the door, muttering complaints, and I try to remember when I saw her come in. I come to the conclusion that I never did as I rub my knee, which bumped soundly into the table in my surprise.

I'm still confused when I hear the front door open, the merry sound of a bird's voice sounding from the outside. Then, the sound of my mom's:

"Hello, Sky!"

My back jerks up and stiff. I turn and angle my head to see the front door, but the staircase leading upstairs blocks my view. All I can glean is his answer,
"Good afternoon."

Eyes wide and heart beating faster than it should, I attempt to push myself out of my chair. Only I stumble, my foot hooking around the chair's leg. An enormous boom sounds as I hit the floor, the chair following suit behind me in its own ruckus.

Not even allowing myself to feel the pain of the fall yet, I wince at the silence following my tumble. Thank God he can't see me from there, so damn stupid—