"Yesterday..." She started, and paused shortly to be sure I was listening before she continued.
"I had to come home for some files that time. I arrived in the afternoon, about an hour from now and was entering the house when I heard something fall in your room. I would have ignored it, but I heard you shout something so I rushed in." She paused again, and a shiver run down my spine. "When I entered, I saw you on the ground with your chair thrown over. You just stared at me with wide eyes like you didn't expect me or that I was a stranger, I couldn't tell. You stretched out your arm to me but..." She paused again, longer this time and when she spoke her voice wavered like she was holding back the emotions about to break the calm surface of the water.
"you pulled your hand back when I moved closer and curled yourself up into a ball. You kept groaning in pain so I rushed to help you, but before I could, you twisted away from my touch, and groaned louder like I stabbed you. Your body was hot, so hot I thought you were going to burn to death. You kept saying something, but I couldn't quite get you, so I rushed out to get help and as I left you were shouting louder then. I ran into Lily on my way out. She was just coming in panicked, and in a hurry just as I was. I didn't even tell her, but she knew you were..."
My mind lost focus on what she was saying and railed off to something else; Lily. I couldn't sense her no matter how hard I tried. I noticed I couldn't even sense her when she earlier apparated into the hospital room. She felt different, and I couldn't guess why. It felt too weird. I tried to contact her, but all I could feel was a void, a black wall that cut off all connection, this was wrong.
She should have been the first to meet when we stepped out of the hospital, but no reason came to mind as to why she didn't do as she'd always do. She told me she couldn't stay away for long without feeling hurt and alone. We're connected. I subconsciously touched my fingers to my lips. It was almost as if I could still taste her lips. I could even see her face right before mine, but where was she? Where are you Lily?
I would have remained in my trance if not for the low rumbling of thunder overhead. The rain, I saw came down like a curtain being dropped low over the city. It swept over the buildings and roads, making it's way towards us. A few drops touched my face before the glass came up, shielding me. Little drops of rain snaked diagonally across the window, and my eyes followed them one after the other. They all moved at their own pace, with others joining others to form larger drops that moved faster to oblivion.
As I continued to watch, they seemed to form an image, a face. I first noticed the white sclera, then the blue irises that stared back at me. They hid some emotions I could not yet figure out, the more interesting. The carefully slanted nose, and mouth came in later, then I noticed the outline of the whole face. From the shape of the jaw, and chin, I could tell it was a woman. I could've noticed that if I'd taken into more account the shape of the eyes, and the mouth. The cheekbones themselves had slight depressions within them from the dimples that would appear if she smiled. I finally saw the hair colour, and a thought flashed through my mind. I turned then to see my mother staring at me. It was her reflection in the glass I had been looking at all this while. That's when I noticed she'd stopped the car. We weren't home yet, and I knew that was because of me.
Her lips parted slightly and I knew what she was going to say, "You're spacing out again." Even though she didn't say it this time, her eyes said it, and she knew I understood. I looked away at the dashboard. I hated this, I really hated this. She stared at me some more, I could feel, and then she started the drive again. My hands were clenched into tight fists on my lap, and I had no intention of concealing the fact that I was annoyed. I did it again, I spaced out, but does it have to bother her that much? I knew she saw that I was annoyed, but I couldn't tell how she felt about it. She was just good at it. Why should she always worry about me? Worry about yourself sometimes. Why doesn't she do that? This question kept swimming in my head and it made me feel like screaming out at her to forget my distractions. What's the big deal if I space out?.
Before I knew it, we were pulling over at our home. It was a nice apartment to be in. I got out before she did, and made my way inside. I quickly went upstairs towards my room, but paused with my hand at the doorknob. Why am I hesitating? I don't know how long I stayed there before I heard my mother's steps coming up the stairs-the only thing that motivated me to open and enter. I locked the door with a click, and stared at the door. I turned to see my chair on the floor as it was the other time. The memory shot straight into my mind like an arrow, making me feel dizzy. I held onto the door with one hand for balance. The stabbing pain lasted for a short while and I was okay again. I totally took my mind off the memory, one of the things I had forced myself to master and do often, but regret later. The curtains were dropped over the window, and the lights were out, making the room dimly lit from the little light that came out in a thin line from between the curtains.
I moved into the bathroom, and undressed, standing before the sink naked. I turned it on, and washed my face with the water. The water felt warm, or was it me that felt it that way? I held onto both sides of the sink and stared at the water that flowed down the drain. I then raised my face to look into the mirror. There he was, Christopher Wolfsbane, the person I am. I saw short, golden coloured hair that laid flat against my scalp, dripping with water that run down the attractive face. I got my hair and good-looking face from my father, that man who I barely remembered now. I had the same small, sharp nose, perfectly cut jawline, and s lender neck that showed the thick, underlying muscles. The only thing I had from my mother was the blue eyes. I had a slim, but well muscled body which was cut out from hard work. I was a good fighter, but not many people knew of this.
But this is the part I hated. I stared at my face a little longer, and I knew very well that I shouldn't have, but I still did so. A different face was beginning to form in my mind. I guessed my mind was layering all my memories of my father to form his face, and instantly, I looked away, but the image formed lingered a while longer.
I moved into the shower, and let the warm water fall over me. The memories flashed into my mind again, and I tried this time to analyze them, but I couldn't remember it all. What exactly happened yesterday? Pain, grief,...what was all that about? I couldn't remember clearly, and it all felt like a figment in my mind, a distant memory I couldn't grasp. It was just a past thing that was now only a blurred image. I mused over this as I showered, arriving at no answer in particular. I looked again in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. My slightly effemiate features could now be noticed more easily. I guess I was still a little tensed.
I left then, and dressed up, wearing a simple black shirt, and black jean trousers. I drew the curtains, and the light stabbed at my eyes. It took me a few seconds before my eyes finally adjusted to the brightness of the room. It was a neat room, too neat for a guy. I sat on the large bed, leaning my back against the headboard, then raising my right hand to my face. It was only a few inches from my face, and as I stared at it, little red flames lit up on my fingertips.