By now, you should already have an idea or two about me. One thing is that I am lazy and I don't like to cook. The other is that I worked full time at the repair shop and that I am broke. And by the time you are reading this, I somehow decided to become a web novelist. If I hadn't then you wouldn't be reading this.
Anyway, what would you do when an unassuming black spot was casually eating your remote on your sofa when you're just trying to have lunch one Saturday afternoon?
Maybe you would freak out like any normal person would. Run away as if you were being chased by the hounds of hell. Maybe you're one of those people who would freeze in front of any emergencies. Or you could be the violent type who would grab the nearest thing and smash the hell out of the thing that frightened you.
In my case, however, I was the latter. I flipped the sofa on reflex. Grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be the easel stand I bought two months ago when I suddenly had a weird burst of inspiration at 3 a.m., wanting to be an artist but never actually started.
I grabbed it with both of my hands, brought it over my head, swung it into an arch, and with it, I hit the black spot. Over and over and over again.
I didn't stop even as the easel stand broke to pieces. Or even as blood trickled from my forearm when a wood splinter (should be called a wood stem with how big it was) accidentally stabbed me. I just kept going.
I only stopped when the doorbell rang. And you must've guessed it. The black spot was gone. And my remote? Utterly destroyed. My easel? Obliterated. My forearm? Bleeding. Though I didn't really notice it until I opened the door and Kristina Bilton pointed it out.
"Your arm," she told me. "It's bleeding." She was surprised to say the least.
"I… can see that." Was all that I managed to say.
She sauntered into my house as she grabbed me by my hand and was again surprised to see the situation in my living room.
"Dandan? Care to explain?"
"Uh—"
"What?" She asked when I didn't answer her.
"Well, you wouldn't believe it."
"Try me."
"You'll think I've gone mad."
"I won't." She assured me.
"Well," I hesitated at first. After all, if you were in my shoes, how would you explain what just happened to the woman you fancy without sounding like you've got a few chunks of brain missing? "There was this black thing, trying to eat my remote. I hit it with my easel in reflex." I decided to be honest for once. "There's nothing to worry about, really. I'll clean it up in a minute."
She stared at me, long and hard, before finally saying, "You know what? I think we should do something about your arm first. And then we eat after that. I brought your favorite. Afritada with pineapple chunks. I cooked it myself."
I trusted you, Kristina Bilton. I trusted you.
She went to my bathroom to get the first aid kit and treated my arm. She removed the splinter in a not so gentle way. Poured hydrogen peroxide all over the wound and it bubbled like crazy. Wiped it off, put some betadine, dressed it with pads of gauze, and wrapped a cloth bandage to hold the dressing in place.
She helped me clean the mess in the living room and we ate after that. I was honestly relieved she dropped the subject completely.
Throughout the afternoon, we just talked about the new sci-fi movie we previously watched. She still can't get over the fact about how terrible it was and how expensive the popcorn was. She also vented about the newly hired colleague in the place she worked at who kept messing at her job.
And by now, you must be wondering what's my relationship with this woman. Well, she's my best friend. And we fuck from time to time.
She has thick dark hair that reached past her breast. Thick brows and lashes. Reddish brown eyes. Along with thin lips painted her face altogether. Five feet six inches tall and had a toned slender body with curves in all the right places.
I know she's pretty and hot but don't you dare lust over her. Don't even think about it. She's mine so back off.
She slept over that day and I completely forgot about the peculiar black spot. We also did the deed and lasted three rounds. It was a wild night as we decided to try new things. Like bondage and stuff.
It was 3 a.m. by the time I woke up. I always wake up at three for some reason. And obviously, it was still dark outside.
I headed to the bathroom to take a shit. I was planning on working out after that but I didn't really get to do that as I passed out. I passed out while taking a shit. Embarrassing as it sounds but you wouldn't say the same after I tell you what happened when I came to.
I was still in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet bowl. The lights were off. Something that surprised me because I never took a shit with the lights off.
"Is the power out?" I mumbled to myself. It wasn't. I found out after I switched on the light. And by then, I should've noticed that my turquoise walls have turned into teal somehow.
After I flushed and pulled back my boxers, I headed back to my room and here was when things started going wrong.
I noticed some tiny stuff along the way. Stuff you would have normally brushed off as a product of a sleepy head.
The picture frame that I hung by the hallway between my room and the bathroom wasn't there anymore. Or to be more specific, the picture that was supposed to be there was replaced with a picture of a pig wearing a bright pink collar. It was supposed to be a picture of me and Katrina when we first went to an amusement park when we were eighteen.
And the first thing that came to my mind was an intruder who broke into my house while we were asleep and replaced our picture.
But who in their right mind would do that?