Die, Die My Darling

8

     Lillian made her way to her small apartment she rented in a shady part of town. It was the closest she could find to Smith's Grove without cockroaches, so she immediately took the tour and the offer when she could. Now inside, Lillian dragged her feet behind her as she walked slowly inside to greet her cat, Mittens.

     "Hey there, sweet boy." She said quietly and gently petted the snow-white fluff of his head.

     Her stomach grumbled, so she trudged along to the attached kitchen of her apartment and decided to make a sandwich. Quietly, she got out the ingredients and began her work. Whilst making the sandwich, her thoughts were brought to Michael and his brooding self. She thought about the interaction she had today, with Michael's huff. One of the few times he has shown any sort of vocal communication has been with Lillian, this being one of those cases.
     After finishing, she ate slowly in thought. Where was her uncle? Is he doing ok? What would he think of Michael's progress? So many questions ran through her mind in such a short span of time it was giving her a headache. Lillian finished her sandwich and decided to draw a bath to calm her nerves, something that she often does to cope. She wonders how Michael copes, caught up in his bubble of masks and violent thoughts.
     Her bath was steaming, she undressed and got in. Immediately the stress melted from her shoulders, allowing her to think clearly. She imagined Michael as a normal man, a man who could make a woman happy and would take care of her. She imagined the woman being her, but she stopped herself once she realized it'll never happen. It can't. It can't happen if Michael is in a cell, with violent tendencies and a criminal background ever since he was a child.
     Despite the bath, her racing thoughts started to pick up once again and she had to get out. She had to leave. Confined spaces were not her friends, and her small bathroom certainly didn't help. She stepped out of the bath and dried herself off, putting on a large shirt to prepare for bed. As soon as she finished her nightly rituals, her head hit the pillow and she fell asleep almost instantly. Her dreams were plagued with thoughts of Michael, being with Michael, and helping him get better. She would soon realize her feelings are not so simple after all.