His gaze travelled to the side of the bed.
"What the heck happened to the nightstand?" she asked as she entered the room and carefully picked up what he had said. The lamp had broken, along with one of the science prizes on top of it.
"It fell," he answered with a chuckle, and his mother gave him a dirty look. He walked over to her and helped her with the broken glass, carrying them to a small trash can in the corner by the window. He leaned out of the window while his mother arranged the garbage can. Looking down, he saw Melia, their gazes colliding, but she quickly turned on her heels and disappeared.
"Why are you smiling so much?" his mother asked, placing the tray of food on the chest.
Elijah looked at her.
"I'm not smiling."He looked back to the street, and when he did, his brow furrowed as he noticed Melia was no longer there. But at what point...? He only stopped looking for a fleeting second. He closed the curtains and looked back at his mother."I was just admiring the view."
"What view? The view of the street?" She laughed a little. "Come on, you have to eat something."
Elijah sat down on the bed, and his mother passed him the tray, which included berry juice and freshly made buttered toast. He took a bite, thankfully.
His mother sat to one side and stroked her son's hair.
"You worried me so much, Orleans," she said his name softly, and he looked at her apologetically. "Don't ever do that again."
"Yes, Mama." He nodded, and she kissed his forehead. "It won't happen again, I promise."
"And promise in the same way that you'll stop with that diary."
"No." He denied. Now more than ever, he wouldn't give up that subject. It was impossible for him to give it up, especially since the brown-skinned woman was still alive. That made him ask himself a lot of questions, and he wanted answers.
"You have to stop. You said you saw her.
But it's just that..." He was silent, thinking deeply.
"It's just, what?"
"I just got upset. I had a bad dream and a bad day." He replied, putting the tray aside.
"Well..." She sighed. "When you're a little better, we'll talk." Elijah nodded.
"Until you wake up, you ugly sleeper." His younger brother, Robert, entered the room with a lopsided grin. "Are you over your madness with that Malia, Moloa...? What's her name?"
"Her name is Melia, Melia," he corrected him, emphasizing each syllable. Robert rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm over it."
"I doubt it." He crossed his arms in front of him. "We're worried about you," he let him know, and Elijah looked up, staring his younger brother straight in his grey eyes. "Don't ever do that again."
"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I won't do it again."
"I hope not... Now... I think you should fix your room and talk to your friends. They're downstairs."
"I'm not fixing my room. And secondly, I'll be right down."
"You're a mess." Robert told him as he came down the stairs.
"I'm not!" Elijah shouted for him to hear.
"I fucking am!"
Elijah, along with his mother, laughed. His mother left the room, and Elijah began to pick up the books from the floor and arrange them on the shelves