Boys Fun Night
As I stood in the kitchen, a growing chill seeped into my bones, causing my body to freeze in place. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, donning a ruthless mask that resembled that of a devil. My soul trembled within the confounded boundaries of my body as I watched him approach me, step by step.
I began to mutter mantras, hoping that some miracle would save me from the clutches of this beast. But as he drew closer, all hope seemed to fade away into the darkness that followed him. His figure was shrouded in a grim void, and every step he took sent shivers down my spine.
With each passing moment, the thread of my prayer grew weaker and weaker, until it finally snapped. He was just a few feet away from me when I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that he would turn around and leave me be.
But even with my eyes shut tight, I could feel him walking towards me. The sound of his heels clicking on the cold tile floor echoed through the silent kitchen, and I could see the anguish burning in his eyes like the fire of hell. His wings were tipped with flames, turning them to red, and his horns blazed like a wildfire.
As the tension mounted, sirens began to blare in my ears, like a warning of the impending danger. I could almost hear the fire brigade rushing to put out the flames, but suddenly, everything fell silent. The chaos faded away, and a strange calmness washed over me.
The coldness that had once frozen me began to warm up, and I felt myself melting, slowly. As the serenity of the moment enveloped me, I opened my eyes, and the figure had vanished, leaving nothing but a memory of fear in my heart.
As he exited the kitchen and joined the others in the living room, I finally exhaled a deep sigh of relief. Turning my gaze toward the pot of milk put on the stove, I realized that it wasn't me he had been walking toward but the stove. He turned it off before getting out of the kitchen. I traded my gaze back to the living room, and there he was, sitting on the couch with his back to me. But I could tell his eyes were not hooked to the screen but on his phone.
'Maybe he's texting his girlfriend,' I thought to myself before shaking my head. It didn't matter. I poured the stirred milk into the mug of beated coffee, exited the kitchen, and headed towards my room.
Placing the mug on the side table, I stretched out the drawer and pulled out my diary. As I shuffled through its pages, something caught my sight. A distant, heartbreaking tale inked on the white, lined pages of my notebook.
I had started writing in my notebook since eighth grade. Having all the facilities around me, I always felt a void within me. I always felt the urge to be listened to, always wished for a hand to stroke my back whenever my heart ladened with the complexities of teenage life striking hard on me.
However, I always found people around me invested in their own elite activities. My mom was always busy with her kitty parties, my dad with his business deals and dinners, and my brother Carl with his friends and girlfriends. None of them had time to listen to me or inquire about my day at school. So, I found ears that would listen to my tales of teenage life.
My diary always gave attention to my words, kept them in, and consoled my soul in one way or other. I began to feel my soul had found a mate, one who doesn't complain, fight, or argue with me.
The voice coming from the lounge began to dim in the silence of the room. I continued reading my life events from my diary. I came across a page where I had written about Dillon, my ex-boyfriend, who sat beside me in the back seat of a taxi and tried all means to make me stop crying.
No, I wasn't crying out of remorse yet. A lot of damage had happened until now that showed me the mirror of another aspect of life. As I read through the pages, reliving those moments, I felt a strange calmness washing over me.
The cab braked outside a small old single-story house in the countryside. It had only one room, which was not so spacious and had minimal furniture, mainly a bed, an abandoned study table and a chair tucked under it, a small square-shaped mirror pinned to the wall on the right side of the bed, and a holding tray fixed beside it carrying a comb and some shaving material. There was an open kitchen attached to the tiny living room and a bathroom.
I closed my diary, feeling a sense of peace, and turned off the bedside lamp. Lying down on the bed, I looked up at the ceiling and let my thoughts wander. The distant sound of the TV from the living room could still be heard, but it was now just white noise. It was in this moment that I realized that sometimes, the best company one could have was the company of oneself.
As I approached Dillon's house, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation bubbling within me. The sun had just set, and the sky was painted with hues of pink and orange, making the atmosphere even more enchanting. As I walked up to the door, I noticed that there were rose petals scattered on the ground, leading up to the entrance. I smiled to myself, knowing that Dillon had gone to great lengths to decorate the place for my arrival.
As I pushed open the door, my eyes widened in amazement. The living room was adorned with yellow fairy lights that glimmered against the cemented walls, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the room. The air was filled with the sweet scent of burning candles and jasmines, making me feel like I had stepped into a dream. The table was covered in rose petals, and there was a burning scented candle in the center, adding to the romantic atmosphere.
Dillon was standing in the middle of the room, a wide smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. I felt his warmth and his love, and I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotions. "I love you," he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
Tears of happiness streamed down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly. "I love you too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
As we stood there, holding each other, I couldn't help but feel like I was living in a fairy tale. It was as if Dillon had read my mind and brought all my dreams to life. Everything was perfect, and I never wanted to leave this moment.
Our relationship had started off as a live-in arrangement, an idea that I had suggested. I wanted us to spend more time together and get to know each other better before we took the next step. It was the best decision I had made in my teenage years, and Dillon had agreed with me.
Even though we were both young, Dillon was two years older than me and more mature in many ways. We had made a pact to not have sex until we made it official, which was a challenging decision for both of us. We kissed each other passionately, our desire and longing for each other growing with each passing day.
As I was lost in my thoughts, the sudden sound of knocking on the door jolted me back to reality. I quickly put my diary away, marking the page before sliding it under my pillow. I made my way to the door, eager to see who was on the other side.