A homeless thief breaks into a house that has nothing worth stealing - except for the heart of a lonely man who is obsessed with time.
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Blake has been living on the streets for...
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-Jordan-
I was supposed to be studying, but I couldn't focus. I kept looking towards the open door, listening to the voices coming from downstairs. Most of the time, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was enough that I could hear them. My family. And Blake.
I gave up on the studies half an hour too early, but it was fine. I'd never had any strict rules about studying time anyway – with so many changing things and subjects and themes, there never was a certain pattern I could start obsessing about. Studying time was the time of the day when I was free to choose what I wanted to do.
Before I even noticed it, I was standing by the door, watching the staircase. I could hear the voices better now, but the only thing I could tell was that they were having fun. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a bit chilly.
If only I could walk out the door... I could go down and... I had missed out on so much. I hadn't seen the rest of the house in seven years. Seven years... I couldn't even remember what it looked like. I would get lost in my own home...
I heard my mother laughing lightly at something. My grandpa was there as well. And if I listened closely enough, I was pretty sure I could hear Joy, too. My little sister, who didn't get to continue her studies because she had to work... because of me... And all I had seen of her was a short glimpse the other day.
I forced myself to look away so I wouldn't start bawling on the spot. I felt so horrible. If only I was better... If only I wasn't such a freak.
I saw a corner of Blake's desk, and I moved closer to the door so I could see his workplace. The Christmas decorations looked really nice on top of the desk. I turned to look at my plain room. There was more than enough room for a Christmas tree, but even the thought of having one in there made me anxious. If I had a tree in my room, I would spend all my nights obsessing over the decorations, and they would never be good enough. Everything had to be in neat order. I'd keep anxiously moving them around until I started doing bad things to myself just because I couldn't get them right...
I shook my head, trying to get rid of the helpless feeling that thought had given me. There would be no Christmas tree in my room. I would never be able to handle having one.
Why didn't they just send me away... A freakshow like me belonged in a psych ward. I couldn't be mad at my father for wanting that for me. He was right, after all. I turned to look at the staircase again. Blake had wrapped a garland around the railing, but the very end of it had fallen off. It wasn't bothering me since it wasn't in my room. I wondered if I could be able to handle a Christmas tree if it wasn't in my room.
The next few moments passed slowly as I stared at the garland. It was really pretty, but I wished I could just walk to it and put the end back on the railing. If I could just step out... It was only three feet away from me...
