Tears | Prequel To Pyrrhia HighSchool

Smilin'

Clearsight's pov:

What did he mean? What was he planning? Was it for a good or bad reason?

So many questions were running through my head that I barely got any sleep. Its like suddenly my bed just felt like a rock, my bones aching the more I lied on it. The covers felt like a huge weight as I sat up, rubbing my head in the process. Then the messages Darkstalker had sent me earlier today starting flashing in my head once more.

Darkstalker: I need your help

Me: What do you mean? Is something wrong?

Darkstalker: You wouldn't leave me, would you?

Me: Of course I wouldn't! Whats going on!?

Darkstalker: I want you to help me with this little plan

Me: Plan? I'm so confused, has something happened?

Darkstalker: No, I just need you to join me with this

Me: Um, ok? But can you be more specific?

Darkstalker: I'll explain everything to you later, tomorrow, I'll pick you up from your place

Me: Sure? what time?

No reply after that. But the whole conversation, from the first sentence, my head was aching with confusion and concern. What was he talking about? Why didn't he answer me? He must've been busy. Darkstalker's smart, he knows what his doing.

But the curiosity wouldn't fade. It still ached inside of me, desperate for answers. I don't remember a time he would act this. . . anonymous. Honestly, its quite scary. I stood up from my bed and strode over to the window, looking out into the dark, yet calming, night sky. The only light out there was the street lamp, but even that was dimly lit. 

Since the incident with Darkstalker's father, he's been acting odd. It worried me, it worried all of us. I just hoped Arctic or even Darkstalker himself got a little help about the hatred in the two's relationship. 

Quietly, after grabbing my phone, I stepped out of my room, looking around the dark hall to see if anyone was awake. Guess not, considering I heard fathers loud snoring. Mother would sometimes sleep on the couch because of it. I crept passed their bedroom door, quite easily too since the floor was carpet. But then it got to the wooden staircase. I groaned mentally before taking careful steps, my toes aching from all the weight I'm putting on them.

Some of the steps creaked, but I quickly leaped the rest of the way, landing gracefullt once again on my toes. I bit my lip and looked back upstairs, preying no one heard. Fortunately, I heard no one getting up or yawning, so I continued to the kitchen. 

After getting out a plate and placing it gently on the bench, I opened the fridge and pulled some of the leftovers from dinner. Lasagna. . . lovely. I put it in the microwave, closing the little door and setting the timer for five minutes. I leaned against the counter and tapped my foot on the ground, but making sure it wasn't so audible. 

Stress has still taken over my body, along with frustration and need. Why was he being so damn stubborn!? He could've just said "oh its for some project from school!" but no, had to make it like some game. A game I didn't want to be part at the moment. 

The timer went off, causing me to jump. I quickly pushed the button that allows me to take the meal, trying to shut up the constant beeping. I sighed in relief when it went quiet and grabbed the warm plate of lasagna, placing it back on the counter. Once I got a fork, I started eating. The food made me feel so much better, just as any food did.