Friends of Windows (title still being a potato) 2.1

I just assumed that the apartment was Claire’s, but I guess I was wrong.  The door groans open and a woman is there, perhaps a little older than Claire.  

“Oh, hey!”  the lady says, moving to let Claire in, “bad night?” the lady asks.

“More or less,” Claire says.

I manage to slip in behind her before the door closes.  

“Hey, would ya like some tea?”  The woman asks, and for a minute I nearly reply.  I miss tea...  I think…  maybe.

Claire makes an uncertain noise, “how about coffee?”  she asks.  

The apartment isn’t exactly tidy, but it’s not exactly messy, either.  There isn’t much decoration, or anything that seems to be placed in the room for aesthetics, but it’s got a cozy feeling, and the colours are friendly, and in a way, even though it doesn’t appear that anyone’s tried to decorate it, it’s still somehow very artistically balanced.  And by “artistically balanced” I mean everything seems to fit in with everything, and even a sweater strewn on the sofa comes together nicely with the violet hue of the drapes.

Claire and the lady are busy talking about their favourite coffees, and ways they take them, and I just sort of wander into the bathroom, because why not?  It’s ocean-themed, with shells tucked on shelves, on the edge of the bathtub, or resting on the counter.  I wonder what makes a person theme their bathroom, but not the rest of their living space…  Perhaps it’s the same phenomena that leads a person to wear batman underwear.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.  I can’t believe I’m bored enough to snoop in some stranger’s bathroom.  But regardless, I open the cupboards and take a peek.  Lots of sink cleaners and such, Ooh, mouth wash.  Dental hygiene is very important, kids.  

I close the cupboard carefully, and look up.  To my surprise, there’s a reflection staring back at me.  It’s weird seeing myself, like seeing someone that you know you’ve seen before, and they’re face fits so perfectly in your memory, but you can’t place them.  I have dark, dark hair styled like an overgrown buzz-cut, and I have brown eyes.  I don’t look that interesting, so I’ll shut up.  But I can’t stop staring at myself, and it makes me wonder if I was a narcissist in my past life.  

“Just a sec!”  I hear the lady’s voice very close, and then I hear the bathroom door close.  

I freeze.  I did not sign up for this, not on purpose. This is bad.  This is very very bad.  Then she screams, and I see her staring at me in the mirror, horror written all over her face.  I duck out of the mirror.  

OMG she saw me.  I can’t believe she actually saw me.

I sit, stunned, back up against the cupboard trying to make myself as small as possible.  

“What’s wrong?”  I hear Claire’s voice, muffled, ask.  

The lady is looking all around the bathroom, a bewildered look on her face, clutching her heart.  “I say my reflection,”  She says, and bursts out laughing.   

I don’t know what to think, what to feel, but I’m terrified of what’s going to happen next.  What if she finds me?  What if she doesn’t find me and does what she came here to do?  I don’t want either to happen, but it seems one of them, is inevitable, so I slowly stand up, and tiptoe over to the door, and let my head rest on it.  I stare at my shoes and go to my happy place, which right now, is a bubble.  A bubble where nothing can touch me, and there’s grass, and I can’t follow anyone or do anything stupid without it being completely obvious.  How the hell did I ever make it to heaven?  I ask myself.  You’re not there yet, I remind myself.

I hear her turn on the tap, and silently thank… heaven.  Then I turn around and shuffle to the side, scrunching in the corner of the room, hoping that she has enough room that she’ll miss me.  And she does.  The door opens fine, despite snagging on my coat, and the lady walks out and doesn’t even step on me or anything.  

“I thought I saw a guy’s face in the mirror” she says, walking away, “Scared me to death.”

I can’t believe people stalk people.  It’s insane and terrifying and you’re constantly worrying you’re going to be found out- and I can’t even be seen most of the time!  Imagine what it’s like for people that are actually alive and seeable…  but then I guess most of them probably don’t follow their target into their friends house the first time watching them.  But what do I know?

My mind is racing with the idea that she saw me, that the mirror saw me.  Maybe I can get help, maybe I can show people with a mirror that I’m here and maybe they would help me?  I shake my head.  It’s too weird, people will freak out.  But there’s still excitement boiling in my stomach.   

***

When morning had come, I hadn’t wanted to go back to heaven…  or whatever it is.  I wanted to do something, but I wasn’t sure what.  I’ve been thinking about what happened all night, and I still can’t believe that women saw me, or that I followed Claire, or that I was stupid enough to snoop.  

I’m lying on the bottom of my bubble, playing with the pockets on my jacket as I replay it all in my mind.  Claire’s been haunting me all morning, her long hair twisted in waves around my subconscious.  Why was she crying, I think.  

I find myself wondering where the guy is, that guy people believe in- the guy that some people believe created everything.  Shouldn’t I see him strolling amongst his angels in the lush grass?  Shouldn’t he be up somewhere on a throne, watching all the play and joy and, like everyone else, pretending that us globe-enclosed folks don’t exist?  Where is he?  I think, and then I muse about if I can actually call him a he or him.  I remember hearing in some cultures he’s both sexes, or neither perhaps.  And then that leads me to another thought.  Was I religious?  I stop fiddling with my jacket.  Did I believe in heaven, even? I wonder if that’s why I’m in this bubble; maybe I didn’t believe in anything, or maybe I believed in something that wasn’t true, and maybe that’s why I’m quarantined.  

I laugh at the thought.  It seems so ridiculous that an all-powerful being would just kind of shrug at a non-believer and put them in a bubble.  But at the same time, what else is he going to do?  I guess he could erase me altogether from existence, but then, what would that look like on his record?  The idea of the creator having some kind of record as the rest of us do on earth is kind of hilarious to me, but all this thinking about higher beings is making my head hurt.

I stand up in my orb and start walking, the bubble rolling in a jerky-fashion with each step.  I make my way over to a group of heaven dwellers, they watch me approach and shift uncomfortably.  There’s three of them in all.  

“Hi,”  I say, hoping that maybe, just maybe it’s less soundproof on their side than on mine.  They’re all staring at me like I’m rabbit that hopped into a bucket and can’t get out.  There’s pity, and then there’s frustration that I had to be that stupid, and then there’s a pinch of: OMG it’s ADORABLE!  But most of all there’s that fear that it’s going to give you rabies.  

“Whatcha guys up to?”  I ask, taking a seat on the ground again.  I’m not going to let them ignore me any longer.  I’m not going to.  

One of them points to her ear and shakes her head.  My heart sinks, although I’m not sure why; I knew they wouldn’t hear me, I knew it, I just really wanted to be wrong.  I’m so tired of being alone.

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A/N: Next chapter I'm going to hopefully switch the title to: Fiends of Heaven.  Because I like it better.  If you have any objections, thoughts, etc., regaurding le title, speak now or forever hold your piece!  Just kidding, I'm open to those things whenever.