“Thinking about leaving?”
“No Mr. Tricks.” I said, dully closing the door and turning around to face my consoler.
“Ms. Smith, how are you feeling today?”
“Really great actually.” I lied, even fooling myself with how great I sounded. Maybe if I acted like a live person he’d let me go early.
“I had a really great day today.”
“Really what happened?” He asked leading me into his office.
“Well, I met this other girl and she likes to make up stories, fiction and what not, and during lunch hour we were making up some crazy comedies.” And so I spun a lovely tale about this girl who was inspired by Titanic but constructed to be the exact opposite and our time together was the exact opposite of how my evening with Titanic had gone. Mr. Tricks seemed to enjoy my story saying things like ‘that’s good’ and ‘that’s nice’ but that didn’t by any means shorten our meeting. He wanted to know how I met her, why I chose to befriend her, why I had such a good time, did I really enjoy our time together or was it just something passive. He made me regret having made Sandra up. Normally I could just sit and stare at my shoes and try to make out the outline of my toes while he asked awkward questions and jotted down my silence but now I had to imagine my time with Sandra insert dialogue, create her whole family and then decide how I felt about her and them. By the time the meeting was over I hated her, she was more trouble than she was worth! I mean she had an annoying laugh and never let me pick the names of characters, who does that?!
At least we’d avoided the subject of my parents, and I could go to sleep without feeling like someone whose had a crow picking at their wounds. But I still couldn’t shake the presence that my parents were still with me pressing in, reaching out. Sometimes it scared my how close I felt to the dead, I wished more than anything that there was someone who could help me…someone a little more sane than a Goth named after a tragic two ton hunk of mental that sunk to the button of the Atlantic and gave a new definition to ironic.
Beggars can’t be choosers, well they could but they’d sure die of starvation.
“Why were you at my school that night?” I demanded.
Keith shrugged. “I felt adventurous. I mean, all girls school right.” He laughed.
I so wasn’t buying that.
“Then explain the look.”
“Just ‘cause you’re blond doesn’t mean you can play dumb, you’re a horrible actor/liar so out with it. Why won’t you tell me?!” I persisted.
“Can’t.” He corrected.
“You can’t tell me? Why?”
“Lady what part ofcan’tdon’t you get?!” Keith growled frustrated. “I cannot tell you why I’m here, how I found you or who I work for. Just know that I’m going to protect you.”
I tried to comprehend what he’d just said, in the fullest extent and check for hidden clues.
“Doesn’t protecting Millie fall under explanation of why you’re here?” I asked.
“No, why I’m here would be more of what I’m protecting you from.”
“Millie I think we already established I’m not dumb.”
“Why can’t you tell me any of that?” I asked. “And if you say you can’t answer I inflict bodily harm upon you!” I warned.
I could hardly blame him. He had the ability to turn entirely metal; I was disabled, bandaged andsosore I don’t think I could even be a threat to a freakin’ dust bunny.
“I can’t tell you because that may infringe upon your freedom to decide the truth for yourself, I mean all the things I can’t tell you can find out.”
“Freedom to decide what?”
“If I’m your guardian angel or just some Metalmorphis with schizophrenia.”
“So you’re pretty useless if I have any question.” I concluded.
“Okay so you’re my guardian angel, I’ve agreed or consented or whatever to that fact. Now why were you at my school?”
“I don’t believe a word you just said but I’ll bite, I wanted to see you.”
“Wait!” I gasped. “You’d never seen me?”
“Not for awhile, four years to be exact.”
“Four years, I was twelve…I was twelve when my parents died! Keith what happened?!” I demanded, hardly anything passes as an innocent little coincidence in the apocalypse or leading up to it.
He shook his head.
“Damn you!” I growled, looking around from something to throw and settled on my demon repelling amulet. I launched it as hard as I could at his head, effectively pulling every muscle in my arm shoulder and upper back. Keith let the amulet hit him and caught it when it bounced.
He tossed me back the amulet.
“Feel better now?” He asked.
I considered throwing the amulet again, but that might just be the end of my arm for awhile.
“Okay, rest party is over.” I said, bracing my arms on the couch and pushing myself up.
“Ooooh good God that hurts!” I groaned as every muscle in my body protested painfully against my action.
“Now you can empathize with a hand ball.” Keith offered coming over to my aid.
“Haha. Not funny!” I muttered threw gritted teeth, raising completely from the couch and regretting every second of it. I balanced myself awkwardly on my good leg, well it was better than the broken leg but still pretty banged up.
“Is this really necessary?” Keith asked as I leaned heavily on him.
“Yes, I have to get back to my apartment.” I said determinedly trying to hobble forward.
“What you forgot to pay rent or something?” he asked. “You have no idea how ridiculous you look.” He added.
“You were an angel?” I demanded incredulously. “look I need to clean the place, so no one can find me through there.”
“Fine, the car is this way.” Keith said wrapping his arm tightly around me and lifted me off my feet and carrying me across the cabin.
“Oh that is so painful.” I objected.
“Life is pain.”