Her eyes shot open in cruel urgency, feeling nausea hit her like a train speeding towards her. She sat up, instantly regretting it due to the immense feeling that the ceiling was closing in on her. The walls screamed momentarily, sending waves of panic through her as she frantically glanced both ways to realise something obvious.
She wasn't at home.
"Shit..." She mumbled in a hoarse voice due to the previous night's mistake. Immediately, she looked at her form and realised she was fully clothed, except for her jacket. She let out a sigh of relief, glancing at the room around her. The blinds were slightly agape, letting out occasional streams of light flicker through from the illuminating sun, causing her to squint her own. She realised she wasn't on a bed, firstly, it was a mattress. Curious, she peered around the room from the safety of the mattress as if the cold, wooden floor was lava. Boxes littered the room, occasional figurines of superheroes and books strewn across the floor, opened in certain pages as if someone marked it frantically. The walls were a peachy colour, sending warmth through her since it was a colour she was familiar with in this unfamiliar environment. A large wardrobe was the only piece of furniture in the entirety of the room, causing her to chuckle slightly.
How did she end up in the home of such a strange person?
Glancing to the floor, she cringed slightly as she placed her delicate, bare feet on it, shuddering as the freezing cold hit her. Stumbling slightly, she recalled how nauseous she really was, gripping the wardrobe suddenly, pondering if she really was going to barf all over this stranger's floor.
Who was this stranger anyway? She desperately tried to recall anything after her multiple shots but faltered since it was all fuzzy. Maybe it was one of her friends? Most likely, they wouldn't leave her all alone while she's wasted, now, would they?
Maybe one of her brother's friends? Oh god. Her brother. Her brother was going to murder her if this stranger doesn't first. Her curfew was at twelve.
She presumed this stranger was unaware of that. Who was this stranger? They clearly didn't do anything vulgar to her. Maybe just a kind Samaritan who took pity on her drunk figure the previous night?
Once the feeling of panic and dread of vomiting dissipated, she reluctantly removed her hand from the harsh grip on the wardrobe and squinted her slightly blurry vision, noticing the door by the corner of the room, leaning into the handle and pulling it open.
When she opened it, she was greeted by illuminating, orange sunlight peeling in from the open door of the living room and kitchen, possibly the curtains shoved open. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced across the corridor and tried to map out the area. She was clearly in an apartment, judging by the size and the fact that the door was at the end of the corridor. On the other end was the door to the bathroom, in which her door was directly on the right of. The door to the living room lay on the left, and just near the entrance door was the doorway to the kitchen, simple enough.
She then heard hushed chatter from the living room, which she could clearly hear through the opened door, causing her to limp lazily to the doorway of the living room, peering inside.
A man sat cross-legged in the middle of the room despite a sofa being pushed to the back near where she stood, noticing a similar number of boxes from the bedroom to the living room, some thrown wide open. Papers were scattered across the floor alongside sticky notes, the coffee table pushed to the left of the room to make space for the man to sit, just below the two ginormous windows with the blinds pulled up, letting streams of sunlight in. She could scarcely see the entire room from where she stood, hiding behind the door since the man hadn't noticed her yet, still mumbling to the air.
"No, clearly not, okay?" He muttered to himself, pushing himself up and chuckled a little as he almost lost balance, his back still turned to her.
Narrowing her eyes, she stepped a little forward to get a better view of the familiar person.
"What? She's where?" She heard him mutter in a form of exclamation and then spin on his heel, so he was facing her, shock plastered across his face until he broke out into a shy smile, his face dotted with red that was obvious due to the immense amount of light.
She recognized him instantly.
"Wilfred?" She stepped forward again to meet the almost daunting sunlight, yet it gave her enough light to peer at his features which bombarded her instantly.
Smiling lightly, Wilfred waved.
From what she remembered, Wilfred was a closed off young man who offered help at first glance – for the majority, he didn't change, yet he seemed less tired and worn out, and more staggeringly adorable in the sunlight. Sure, he wasn't dressed in the best way, but he had a messy persona that she recalled, which was due to his dishevelled hazelnut hair, attempted to be combed back by him raking his hands through it but resulted in a few strands falling onto the left side of his forehead and a majority of it curled around the edges like ocean waves. He was clad in a simple, loose white tee-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants that ended at his ankle, complimenting his fair skin which seemed to be paler than usual.
He adjusted his glasses slightly before placing his hands back in the pocket of his sweatpants, grinning at her.
Hesitantly, she grinned back.
It had been over a year since Wilfred graduated the university they both attended, with him disappearing to get a job elsewhere and her remaining rooted to the spot due to being younger. When he graduated, she was only in her second year of university.
They had gotten along quite well due to staying in the same groups a majority of the time, yet it had been unnervingly long – shouldn't this be awkward?
"Oh, good to see you awake!" He quietly stated, in a calm manor which she greatly appreciated due to the agitating headache that lay waste on her mind, and upon seeing her hesitance to reply, he let out a chuckle, "You can come in, I'm not going to bite."
She smiled softly and stepped into the room, getting a full look to the utterly messy living room. What concerned her most was the opposite wall, just across the wall the sofa was pushed against. It had a few papers stuck, joined together by one or two pieces of red yarn like a conspiracy board she witnessed on Law and Order. It all revolved around the name at the centre which read 'Sarah Brown' in bold, black marker. She then linked it to the various papers, a HP laptop wide open on the floor directly in front of where the man sat earlier, as well as the brightly coloured sticky notes and yarn on the coffee table.
Was he a detective?
She shook that ridiculous thought out of her head – Wilfred did his degree in IT, as well as the fact that he didn't suit the 'cold' demeanour of a usual detective.
"Who were you talking to?"
Wilfred suddenly looked panicked.
"Oh, no one, just a bug there I think." He seemed kind of distant and nervous as he said that, but she let it slide. He had a strange smile, she noticed. The type of grin that made his lips thin and eyes to crinkle in such a way that it seemed real. A real smile.
But as she scanned his face, she noticed blotches of purple and red behind his right eye, indicating that he was punched recently, but he had such a cheery attitude and the mark seemed well-patched up, so much so that she didn't notice it as soon as she walked in. It was quite evident, and Wilfred realized that she was glancing at it for a while, and then letting out a chuckle.
"Don't worry about that," He let out a thin smile, "Besides, bruises make me less like a wimp."
Reese let out a small chuckle whilst wondering what may have caused that.
"You probably have a headache from yesterday, I have some aspirin for you." He then reached to the coffee table where there was a small tablet and a full glass of water, she hadn't noticed that earlier. He handed it to her, in which she mumbled a 'thank you' before placing the tablet in her mouth and gulping down the whole glass. God, she missed the taste of water.
She turned red slightly when she realized how greedy she must've seemed but when she glanced back up at the man, he didn't look disgusted in the least, not even slightly.
Panic suddenly settled in her again.
"Have you seen my jacket? It has my phone and wallet in it, I need to call my brother."
"Oh yeah, it's on the table," He paused and suddenly looked nervous, "Sorry for um, taking you here. You we-were knocked out and I didn't know what to do, so I took you here and put you there. I didn't remember where your house was."
She sent him a confused glance as a motion for him to continue.
"I called your brother."
"What?"
"Sorry." Wilfred nervously mumbled, biting his lip slightly and looking to the floor.
"I mean, how did you even get into my phone?"
"Your password was easy… your birthday."
She burned red as she instantly regretted numbering her password after her birthday.
"I-I didn't look through anything though! I just tried to see if there was anybody to pick you up, and your brother happened to be the first contact I saw and I told him what happened," Wilfred rambled, "He said he was out with his friends and couldn't come, but I said I'd drop you off in the morning. He was really nice about it too."
Recalling how nervous and guilty Wilfred seemed at the nicest act he could do, she felt guilty for snapping.
So she calmed down and smiled.
"I'm surprised you remember my brother."
Wilfred, whose mood brightened up instantly, nodded eagerly.
"How could I forget Alec?"
They both laughed lightly and begun discussing what they had been doing over the past year, with her explaining how horrible her university projects are going whilst Wilfred raved on about the agony of a desk job, shooting odd glares to random parts of the room here and there to Reese's dismay.
"What's… with the conspiracy board?" She enquired, motioning to the back.
"Ah, um," Wilfred chuckled nervously whilst rubbing the nape of his neck, "I just got interested in unsolved cases recently, nothing major."
To further her suspicions, he stepped in front of the board to avoid her field of vision reaching it, thus, she could only narrow her eyes.
"D'you want to go change into something that smells a little less like alcohol, and then I'll drop you home?"
"So soon?" She pouted, "We only caught up after so long, why're you so adamant on sending me back?"
Wilfred motioned to her.
"You, young lady, are drinking far too much and need to catch up with work rather than catching up with old friends."
"I don't have any other clothes."
"I know," He laughed as if it was obvious, "I meant you could use some of mine."
"Oh, no I really couldn't burden you with that!" She stumbled with her words slightly, tugging at her shirt and realised it did stench of alcohol, making her nose wrinkle slightly. Wilfred smiled.
"Consider it a favour to me," He paused to spot her raising her eyebrow, "I can't handle the smell of alcohol, so it would be doing me a favour."
She felt guilty for a moment but nonetheless nodded reluctantly, watching as he walked beside her and motioned to the bathroom.
"My mum packed a lot of extra towels when I moved here," He grinned sheepishly, "I figured you'd want to use a different one, and don't worry about the clothes not fitting, we're probably the same height. Plus, there's a small plastic bag in the corner to keep your alcohol infested clothes."
Wilfred narrowed his eyes slightly to measure the height difference, nodding slightly when his theory was correct. Reese hesitantly stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and stripping down, placing the alcohol clothes into the plastic bag and placing it beside the sink. She clenched both sides of the sink, looking at her dishevelled figure and feeling slightly embarrassed that the person she looked up to saw her like this.
Sighing, she stepped into the shower cubicle and rinsing off the previous night's regret and stench. She felt a wave of instant relief.
Afterwards, she held the fluffy towel close to her, raking a hand through her tangled hair in a failed attempt to make it seem slightly tame and found neatly folded clothes at the corner, simple hoodie and sweatpants similar to the one she saw him in. She tugged it on and inhaled the scent of peach, possibly due to his washing up liquid. She found herself sniffing it, feeling at ease and then immediately blushing due to the fact that she just met him after so long and is now sniffing his clothes. She clicked open the door, taking the plastic bag in her hand and stepping out, feeling at ease at the comfort of his clothes.
She was about to announce herself into the room but paused when she heard Wilfred's voice.
"Yeah, you mind shutting up, kid?" He exclaimed, slightly muffled from her position.
Is someone else there?
She could swear there was nobody else in the entire apartment.
It could quite possibly be a hallucination, but then again, Wilfred seemed calm and never had a problem with it before. He did this earlier too, but she dismissed that.
She quietly tiptoed on the wooden floor, careful to not make any creaks, and then peered from behind the door to see Wilfred facing the laptop on the coffee table, looking obviously agitated.
And then he did it again.
"Ah god, I can't find it." He mumbled, "What else should I search up?"
Silence filled the room, and Reese assumed it was just him talking to himself. It had to be, until he responded a few moments later.
"I thought you'd be smarter than that, Sarah." And he paused again, following up with, "Yeah, geez, you're probably as smart as a hedgehog, you prickly bastard."
"Who are you talking to?"
Wilfred panicked slightly upon hearing her voice, turning around and spotting Reese crossing her hands and leaning against the doorway, narrowing her eyes accusingly at her. He visibly gulped and his face went white, as if he saw a ghost.
"Nobody." He whispered, his voice shaking slightly as if the world was about to end.
"Cut the crap, Wilfred, this is like the second time I've noticed." She spoke up, causing Wilfred to let out a defeated sigh, taking his glasses off for a moment, rubbing his temple for a moment and suddenly flinched since he pressed too hard on the right region of his face, placing his glasses carefully back on.
He stood up and tiredly inched towards her, plopping himself down on the sofa that dipped down from the weight.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Wilfred turned away from Reese, focusing his attention on a certain region of the air and rubbing the nape of his neck in an exhausted attempt to explain himself, "You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
Reese was confident that there was nothing he could throw at her that she couldn't handle.
"I can, uh, see ghosts?"
She was wrong.