Spectrum

5.3: Yellow

The blond boy's eyes opened slowly, his vision going from hazy to clear in a matter of seconds. A curly haired teen stood above him, holding a wet washcloth to his face. She looked familiar to him for about thirty seconds before he realized that he had met her before - back when he was ten. It was hardly fair to say she hadn't aged well - her hair had gotten slightly longer, with now some darker streaks through it, and her complexion was amazingly clear. Her eyes were still sparkling, a bright light that could have lit up even one of the darkest rooms, brought out by shadow that surrounded them. A small stud pierced her lip and her ears, and he liked it. Not in a romantic way, but in more of a sibling type of way. 

"Hello, Caleb, do you remember me?" her voice had gotten surprisingly low, a rumble that was soothing. She now looked like a 'Helena', in the sense that she didn't look like she'd take garbage from anyone or anything. "My name is Helena."

"Yes, I remember you, the little girl from the park so many years ago," he said quietly, then looked at her again. "Well, you're not exactly a little girl anymore." She chuckled lightly at this, and Caleb sat up, groaning while he did so. "Where am I?" the question made her smile, and gestured around her. 

"Where do you think?" as the boy took in his surroundings, he gathered from the bed he lay on, the dresser, and various trinkets spread across the room (rather feminine ones) that he was in a bedroom of some type, presumably Helena's. 

"Your room, I assume?" He asked, and she nodded. 

"You've been out for about half the day, the university gets out soon, and my brother comes home. I think you should meet him, if you haven't already. He's really nice." She sounded excited for her brother to come home, and in that moment he saw a little glance of the girl he knew back then, the little girl that came up to him in the park with a 'are you okay, Mister?'. 

"Well, I'm excited to meet him." This was a lie, for he wasn't a fan of meeting new people; he wasn't a great fan of people in general, much less, those who he did not know. The female did not catch this, for she was busy rearranging some stuff in her lap before she blew a breath out through her nose and faced him. 

"I'd hate to ask this, but when was the last time you ate?" she asked quietly, her voice betraying emotions of sadness and hurt, curiosity and hope. There was no possible way these emotions could have been for him, he realized, and that made him relieved - worried people only made things worse by meddling into other's business. 

"This morning." he muttered, and she sighed, figuring that he was lying but not wanting to push anything that she wasn't supposed to know. Helena had seen his ribs when his shirt had lifted, she had seen the lettered scars that lined his arm, spelling out insults and misnomers, cruel letterings and jagged cuts. 

"Helena!" A male voice boomed throughout the house, shattering their conversation; it was a voice that sent Caleb's stomach reeling into the depths of his stomach. "I'm home! Where are you?" 

"I'm in my room!" she hollered, and a laugh ricocheted through the halls following the shout. 

"Alright, coming, you'd better not have any boys over this time!" She chuckled, her eyes glinting with a mischievous malice, making him wonder why her brother had made sure to say that.