Decalcomania

pt4

After he finished the bowl, he grabbed the BLTA wraps and stuffed them inside his mouth, one followed by another. I should have made more than five wraps, he seems to be so hungry.

"Is it delicious?" I asked, titling my head a little and forming a cheesy smile. He intensely looked at me as he was still mashing the last wrap, I knew he wasn't going to answer me, but I wanted to tease him a little. After finishing everything, he put the bowl back inside the box, like a well mannered little boy, I was honestly surprised at the way he organized everything back inside, elegantly and thoughtfully. If you saw him, you would never think this guy is mentally unstable, he looked more stable than anyone in this building, including the annoying Alexander. I smiled warmly as I watched him handing me back the box, indeed, there was no expression on his face but I knew he was thankful, his eyes told me so.

"I hope you liked it. I'm not really a good cook but I managed to remember my mother's recipes and follow the steps!" I spoke, "she used to make the tastiest food you can ever come across!" my words left my lips while my mind travelled back to the days, the best days of my life. The most beautiful memories are the worst, cutting my insides as if they were shards of glass. "I missed her so much!" I whispered, feeling my body shaking at the waves of sorrow that just hit my soul.

"Why don't you go back to her!" his voice echoed in the room, bringing me back to reality, I sadly smiled at him and said "I wish, I really wish I can go back to her, but I can never!" he looked away, maybe trying to process what I meant by that, seconds when suddenly his facials changed, his face softened a little as he glared back at me. "Oh!" he whispered. "What happened?" I was glad he asked that, let me tell you why, first, I'm glad he is allowing me to open up to him, he wants to listen to my story, he actually cares a little, maybe a tiny little bit but still he cares. And second, I want him to know that we all struggle sometimes and we all have scars, even if our scars aren't the same.

"It all happened ten years ago, I was a little girl then!" I began, grabbing his attention.

"My parents were murdered by my uncle. he shot my father and raped my mother, before my eyes, he sexually abused her, and when he finished, he shot her too." my chest tightened as I brought back all those painful memories, the memories that I have been hiding inside of me for so long. I could never tell anyone, but he is not just anyone, he is somebody I can trust!

Did I just say trust?

"He knew I was there, watching every dirty move he made, he heard my sobs coming from the kitchen. And he walked closer to the table, where I was hiding, hugging my knees tight and breathing heavily. he chuckled and said 'Young and fresh!' ... I didn't know what he meant, I was too young to understand that such filthy words could come out from my uncle, the man who used to take me to the play yard and buy me chocolate. I should've known his intentions weren't good, I should've known." I bit my lower lip, preventing myself from crying.

"He grabbed my hand harshly and pulled me out. His hands were stained with blood, my parents' blood. I begged him to let me go, I promised him to never tell anyone about his identity, I was a child for God sake, but I wish I never begged him, I wish I grabbed the knife and stabbed him on the chest!" I gritted my teeth, anger and regret boiling on my veins.

"He tried to undress me, aggressively pulling my hair towards him, but I was fast to react, I bit his wrist, as tight as I could. His grip loosened and I took my chance to run away, to our neighbors. Thankfully, they were home and they informed the police right away!" I paused a little, feeling my throat drying up. Alvin was lost of words, staring at me with his dark eyes.