Albino Child

Twenty Nine

I descended the stairs as I counted the polished wooden steps, the boy had bounced off in the direction of the kitchen and had sat himself at the kitchen counter while swinging his legs back and forth, he had a patient waiting look, it was assumable that he expected me to make him breakfast, I sighed lazily as I opened the cupboards with a tired arm; there was a box of 'Tippy Assam tea from Whittard' that was opened and labelled with a post-it that claimed that there were only seven tea bags left in the container, I took two out and put them in pristine teacups with matching saucers from the cabinet next to the steely microwave with a dusty top. I heated water in the kettle as he watched me intently, it was a little unnerving to have someone I used to be so comfortable with, now analysing my every move like a calculating, starving wolf to their vulnerable victim, this behaviour caused trembling in my hands and the fine hairs on my nape stood on end, my pulse was strong and heavy – to the point that I was sure that I could hear each marching beat could be heard by the judging N who was concentrating intently on each action I undertook – the tickling fumes of steam that wafted like the surrounding atmosphere roared from the metal funnel that pouted from the crimson body, finally the boiling water was ready to be poured. I shakily put water into the delicate dusty rose body gilded with gold-plate teacups, the scalloped petals that emerged from the body to peel away to reveal an abalone-white handle, the infusion seeped into the clear liquid as the heavy, full-bodied bittersweet of Assam began to diffuse, using tongs, I placed a cube of brown sugar into the translucent fluid to mask any form of the unpleasant aftertaste the drink gave.

As N furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he mimicked the action of pouring whole-fat milk from a miniature jug into the teacup, I explained, "I have no milk, we can buy it later, I need to go to school today otherwise I will not have the money to pay my bills; you can stay here with Doll if you like, actually, you can come with me."

"I will go with you," N confirmed as he stirred his tea sadly, his reflection in the liquid was passive and unreadable, "Is M still here? According to Albino, you want to kill him in my name; also, the one you call Acne is-"

"M is still here but I will deal with him one I have the money from the meeting I must attend, apart from that reason, God instructed me to gather all of us together but he does not know of your existence I think and I need to eliminate him and P because they know too much; if God found out some of the information they have, it would be disastrous." I answered aggressively as I clutched the petite brass spoon with a clenched fist – I had already snapped off the rose crown that adorned the end without the curved paddle so I let go of it, "They know about the second one, the one that could remove him; the one you found and spread word of, most of the remaining brushed it off as being one of your egotistical plans since P did not communicate your findings to the rest of us very well 'due to risk of causing the others to potentially betray the rest of us and join sides with God'. What I am doing is being merciful, they can hide all they want but once God catches a trail on this he will be relentless and torture them, I am just being kind by removing them from this world, anyway, they would materialise in the second one so it does not matter that much."

"I see," N affirmed, he brought the teacup to his lips but brought it down as he recoiled at the first sip, placing two more lumps of sugar into the beverage, he twirled the spoon in an arcing motion in the hemisphere away from him then took a long pause before resuming speech, "Well, that makes sense. What is this event that takes place in school? Also, what did people do after I died?"

"Well, to answer your first inquiry, it is an 'Elite Fashion Society Monthly Meetup' which is basically an event where we show off our creations and sell them, it is also an opportunity to make a lot of money while I give out cards as a model to get signed onto some Indi agency project; I actually made you something before but your physical appearance is... rather different now," my voice had begun interested but as the last word slipped from my mouth, I fell flat as I pointed at him with a waving hand.

"I'll wear it," he stated in a direct manner, "It does not matter what it is, I will showcase it for you. My hair may be a different colour, my skin a synthetic material and my body shape shaped to fit under trains but if it was for back then, we can just tailor it down; I am still about the same height."

"Okay, then we better get to work soon in that case," I heaved out as I breathed out deeply and pushed myself off my chair to put the cups and saucers into the sink.

"You still have not answered my second question, what happened after I died?" N demanded coldly as his eyes set harshly.

My lip quivered and I looked away, "Interesting, what happened in school... Fine, I'll tell you the truth: your classmates were not really that surprised, you were kind of strange in their eyes but it did not mean much considering that you were not really that close to them. Your friends Ame, Jay and Wanda, well, they were glad you died. Admittedly, no-one cared other than me; which was a little surprising considering you knew quite a few people," my voice trailed off as I revealed the truth to him.

"I see, that makes sense," he nodded with mature understanding, there was no trace of shock, all he did was sigh in mild regret, "I wish I had punched Wanda or at least told her to grow up, she was kind of bratty in the sense that she and Jay kind of wallowed in self-pity. Julia on the other hand, I'm glad she moved before that; she would be upset to realise that she could not use me as an excuse."

I could N's eyes tear up in melancholic remember as he recalled the familiar people that filled his nostalgic memories, he was trying to stay strong by biting down harshly on the inside of his mouth but you could see how difficult it was for him to beat down the tidal desire to cry – he was a cry-baby after all and even though he liked to pretend he was moved mentally by anything, he was still a small child on the inside – his fists curled tightly to the point that the skin was stretched over to create white points of tension while his head dropped lowly. Still, no matter his efforts were futile; tears still leaked out as he once again realised that whatever he put into people meant nothing because no-one realised them – while most people did notice this and were saddened by this, his narcissistic ideology made each matter like this one so much more potent. I led him to the room containing the outfit I made his female counterpart before to attempt to distract him, he followed and I ruffled his hair. The door to this room was a chic canvas curtain in a gently barley colour, the bottom was an ombre that was darker tea-shade, I opened the entrance up and he saw the outfit I had created through his cloudy eyes.

On the mannequin there was...