A warning: This story is immature and unconventional. If you're an adult, or you cannot stand childish personalities, do not read this, unless you want to embarrass me. If not, then enjoy!
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What time was it…
Slowly I rose from under the warm white sheets, with a feeling of being assisted by an invisible force. I stared into my bedroom, the darkness not black but rather tinted with blue. I stared at my far reflection in the full length mirror standing on the other side of my room, unable to see my face. I didn't know why I had stood up in the first place, perhaps it was that same force that compelled me to pad my cold, bare feet downstairs, as silent as a ghost. The stairs led into the kitchen, and despite the only light being the glowing 0:04 from the microwave, as a result of someone who didn't want to wait four seconds to receive their food, the shadows were not a barrier to my eyes. I tapped my finger into the clear button, and the numbers flashed into 2:37, the current time.
A noise. I spun around, my right hand clenching my side, my heart drumming. Behind the glass slide door leading to the outside, a guy stood, his hands curled like binoculars around his eyes, wearing nothing but navy boxers, his body toned and his skin glowing like a jack-o-lantern. Upon seeing me, he removed his hands and flung his dark copper bangs back into his face, his mouth curling into friendly smile.
What the hell! I didn't even know him! I looked at him, slightly disgusted, kind of turned on, very confused. He flapped his hands towards him, mouthing to come hither. And that force, that feeling, pulled me to unlock the door and let him inside. I found myself sitting down, him across from me, sipping a hot chocolate I didn't remember anyone preparing, his feet crossed and on top of the table. The time read 2:45. "Ah," he expressed crisply, opened his eyes, and admired me warmly. He gesture to another mug, with a spoon inside. "Would you care to drink with me?"
Hesitant and a bit queasy, I reached over, picked it up, and started stirring. It wasn't hot, only a little warmer than my hands. I didn't dare drink it.
"Are you going to consume that?" he asked politely.
"No, I will not consume it," I stated, glaring.
He frowned. "Do you not enjoy the cozy, comforting taste of slightly cooled hot cocoa sliding down your tongue, down your esophagus, from there on your stomach, then through your intestines, transforming into feces?"
My jaw dropped, but immediately I put it back into place.
He looked down sadly, and then looked up again. "Do I appear deceitful to you?"
I gazed into his eyes, china blue, but as fragile and as delicate as thin glass. Gazed into the sadness of a thousand homeless puppies, gazed into the trustworthiness of a life-long friend.
"Yeah," I said plainly. "Pretty much."
He jumped out of the chair, stumbling backwards, his palms over his mouth. "You-you think I poisoned it!" he gasped. "You think I spiked it!"
I do not think he spiked it I do not think he poisoned it I think it is normal hot chocolate.
My fingers slowly wiggled the spoon out of the cup and onto the bare table, and then back again to coil against the handle, my lips shaking as I took a long, quiet sip, not once taking my eyes off of him. Finally, I set down the cup, practically waiting for my stomach to curl up and die, but he didn't really seem like the murderer type.
"I'm so glad we're friends," he sighed, smiling and looking up at the ceiling as if God had answered his prayers.
I shook my head. "No, we are not friends. What's your name anyways?"
"Anyway," he muttered.
I raised an eyebrow. His hands tensed up, his bones popping out and beginning to shake.
"You're supposed to say anyway. Anyways is incorrect grammar," he whispered, shutting his eyes enough for them to wrinkle up. He traced his forehead with his fingers.
I rolled my eyes. "I need some straighter answers. Who are you? Why are you here?"
He popped his thumb into his mouth, and gave me an expression completely different from the one before. He looked five years older, very solemn and very pained. "My name is Daniel, but I also go by Rex, apparently. I have a split personality, but my two faces interchange so rapidly that sometimes they actually merge into one, which I believe will happen until they are like that permanently. Fudgy brownies."
I stared at him, perplexed. He put his palm on his forehead and closed his eyes. "Never mind," he grumbled. "Second of all, I have no idea why I am in my boxers, obviously it was Rex's idea." His eyes lit up. "But man, am I beautiful, like a stallion, galloping across fields and fields of dandelions, I am a mythical creature.
Despite Rex being totally irrational and stupid, I couldn't argue with the former. His chiseled muscles, his adorable face…damn I knew I was straight but I didn't know I could find this retard so handsome. I nonchalantly sipped more of the hot chocolate while Rex and Daniel 'argued'.
He let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry. This can be…embarrassing and irritating. Anyway, I am here to tell you about your disease."
I sprayed my hot chocolate on the table. "I'm not sick!" I giggled, not actually believing I did the classic comedy act.
He lowered his eyelids. "This disease can be very serious for some, or a dream come true to others. It's a bit hard to explain. In fact, it's kind of the opposite of the disease, because for one to have a disease it must be on or in his or her body. But this kind of disease is beyond external, it affects your surroundings."
I wasn't giddy anymore. I traced the rim of the mug, and tapped the table with the other hand. "Okay, now I'm not so gullible, if you're going to give me more crap I'll have to kick you out before you make me lose all my sleep," I threatened.
"If you don't believe me now, you will later. Fat people bouncing down hills," he chuckled.
"What."
"Please, ignore those spontaneous comments. You see, this disease, we'll call it, makes you get into very strange situations, and meet very eccentric people, I myself as an example," he explained, bowing as if he were proud. Suddenly, he stood up, as alert as a rabbit, eyes wide as headlights, putting a finger on his lips to say "Hush!", but then proceeded to suck on it. He turned to me.
"I have to go. I will see you soon, my not-friend," he whispered, bowed again, finger still in mouth, and scrambled out the door. What a character.
