Untitled(for now) - Tiffany Anyel (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📗

I found myself staring at a ceiling. I feel my body—completely relaxed on my bed. Ugh! Another fantastic dream—to leave me completely raptured and utterly unsatisfied once I find myself back in my room. Looking at a clock, that now tells me: it is nine past eight in the morning. I lay there—still feeling a definitely muted version of where I was just at. Heaven? Hmm..where ever I was—I had to go back. I glance back at the clock, and realize forty minutes has gone by. I sighed. Cant sleep now. I stretch my body, and head to the bathroom. After my eyes adjust—I turn to the sink, and splash my face—twice. I shut my door, and get back in bed. I had to hold this dream, this world, this feeling a little longer—even if now, it only seemed like a far off place, embedded deep in my imagination. It definitely felt more real than—laying here now, in my bedroom. Glaring at my clock—trying to will time to stop. No such luck. I sigh and walk to my closet. I grabbed a pair of jeans, and a sweater, put them on, and leave the room. I immediately turn back. Am I forgetting something? Yes. I go to my drawer, grab my cigarettes, and put them in the pocket of my oversized sweater. Pull down my sleeves and shut the door.

After I cleaned my face, and turned off the light in the bathroom. I hear squeaking as I trot down the stairs. Quiet house. Staff must be out grocery shopping—I did happen to notice no milk last night. Never a good thing. I go to the frig, and pour some iced tea. I sip on it while sitting on a barstool at the kitchen counter. And for the first time, since lying in bed. I find myself thinking back on that place. I realize I am staring into space, when the phone rings. I jump, and decide to let the answering machine have it. "St. Marys Home for Children. Please leave a message and we will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you, and have a blessed day." It clicks off. No message. Above the phone, I see a note, tacked to the board, addressed to me. I snatch it off and begin reading:

Good morning Yin, I noticed this morning there was no milk in the frig.
Out to get some, and pick up some other items we need for the house.
If I dont see you, have a good day. And if you stay out, please call us.
You know how we worry. Love you xoxo

Oh! That reminds me. I go back upstairs, and grab my phone by the nightstand. I realize I remembered to charge it last night. Yes! I pick up my house keys on the table, and head out the door.

Standing on the front porch, I notice its raining. Not heavy though, more like a light drizzle. I pulled up the hoodie attached to the sweater. Ahh, so comfy. I loved this sweater. Or hoodie? It had the best of both: warm and fuzzy like a sweater, with all the room and pockets of a hoodie. Something I realized I was thankful for, staring out at the wet pavement. I light a cigarette, as I checked my one message. It was from Gary. My co-worker slash partner-in-crime, who works at one of the soup kitchens in town, that I volunteer at. He sounded like he was having some kind of..something moment, as I caught bits and pieces of his message. I look at the clock on my phone—shoot. I would normally be there by now. I start heading that way.

I had been walking for a while, and had started to play in the rain. Kicking some puddles, while side-stepping others. It was not too cold outside. It felt warm. Making the light rain, cool and refreshing on my face. Nice. I noticed I felt elated? Excited even? Like a giddy school girl!—who just got asked to prom! By the guy she has liked since forever! Okay, weird thought. Considering 'prom'--and everything that went along with it: the dress, the shoes, the corscage, the make-up, the..(fill in the blank). Call me lazy but...I just never could get into it--it all seemed like alot of work. And I had been too busy studying, reading, or taking brain-wrenching exams to pay any attention. By my senior year, I had concluded that highschool didnt feel so 'high' anymore. Each month I had felt less and less..there. And its not like I would of been crazy missed anyway. I mean I didnt really have friends per say. Everyone liked me--of course, because Im so likable! But no one had really known me. Looking back on it now, I realized I drifted,--never staying in one place--or in this case, one clique or one group too long. I was known on the outside as being that someone who gave a warm smile, comforting hug, or a big laugh when needed. Or that person, they came to--to just listen. And I enjoyed it! But on the other side of that beautiful coin holds the reason--no one really knew me. And after almost four years in, I started to feel..that restless feeling. As I always do. And I was ready for a change. And I was more than ready to be handed that rolled-up slip of paper, claiming I was ready for the big-bad world. So I worked my butt off, and kissed whoevers butt I needed to, to make it happen. Hence: no time to pay attention to things like prom. I ended up graduating almost a semester early.Yay me! I hear a loud noise and instinctively cover my ears. I looked up and see a bus stopping across the street, to let off passengers. I realized it stopped almost in front of the building. That no doubt held, Im pretty sure an annoyed Gary.

I step through the back door. "Yin? Yin is that you?" I smiled. Yep, his annoyed. "Yea Gair, its me." I walked pass the narrow hallway to the kitchen. Turning the corner, I imagined Gary sitting indian-style, trying to think 'happy thoughts,' as he breathed in and out slowly. I cover my smile, when I see him leaning on the kitchen counter, with his eyes closed, and arms crossed over his chest. (Trying to think happy thoughts--I was sure.) I was about to open my mouth and say something funny, probably Tinkerbell-Peter Pan related, when I hear, "Shut up." He opens his big brown eyes, meeting mine. I feign offended, "What? I didnt even say anything." "Well, no. But I saw you smiling. And if I know you--you were probably thinking of something.. not funny to say. Am I right?" Being sarcastic myself, I wipe a fake tear, as I put my hand to my heart, "Aww..you know me so well." He stifles a laugh. Mission accomplished.

I jump up on the island in the middle of the small, but functional kitchen area. "So, what happened?" "You! You happened." "What? What you mean?" "The guys--apparently need you here and cant eat without you." I stifle a laugh, "Shutup really? Aww thats so cute." "Yea for you maybe. But I was pissed. They kept going on about why you werent here yet. Errh!" He rolls his eyes and pulls at his shaggy brown hair. I stifle a laugh, “Sorry I was later than usual.” “Yea that’s not like you.” He sits down on a stool, and eyes me suspiciously. “So why were you late?” I walk over to the sink to wash my hands—pretending to downplay a possible conversation I didn’t want to have—atleast not now. “Oh. I forgot to set the alarm.” I look at the kitchen clock. The numbers are way to big on that thing. “So what are we serving for lunch?" "Oh that reminds me. We are out of milk too—that was the other thing," Gary says, sounding irritated. I frown. What is up with the milk today? "'Our regulars'..” He put up quotation signs for emphasis. “..were pretty bummed this morning, when all they had to choose from was an apple and a bowl of watered-down oatmeal. I think we have spoiled them." The men who were pretty much homeless, and counted on our service everyday for food. Got the nickname from us. It made light the situation, that obviously is a heavy one. "Was it Pete?" "What do you think? He always complains to me—not you. But me." Smiling, I open the door to the frig, "So.. lunch?" "What?..oh yea, cold cuts?" I began doing check marks in my head, as I survey the frig. "Sounds good, we have it all right here." "Good." We both prepare the meal in silence.

Gary—it is so like him to overreact, for the sake of overreacting. After we finished preparing lunch, I realize there are some dishes in the sink—I start the tap. He is a sweetheart though—like the real kind. Even when he is annoyed, like just now. I know it breaks his heart alittle that ‘our regulars’ had to settle for soggy oatmeal. He is one of the few, who actually gets paid to work here. But he would do it anyway. He is a lifer—like me. Meaning: we both enjoy it. And we cant see in our lifetime, of that ever changing. He has been serving, in this soup kitchen, for years—and he is the youngest one here—well, besides me. He just graduated. Majoring in the arts—culinary arts. Matter of fact, the plaque he so adamantly threw in my face for a week—hangs over the kitchen door. "Gair, who moved the soap?" "Oh. that was me. 'Clean up on aisle six.'”—He does his best female cashier impersonation. Making it sound a lot less female—and looking alittle too cute while he does it. I bust out laughing. "Its not funny!" He glares at me, as he hands me the soap. Aisle six--the dreaded zone. The centers one and only bathroom, that we all share. Technically, it is only the staff's. "One of the guys?" "I think so, Linda hates using that bathroom. And I think she was the last to leave after dinner. Nothing major, thank god! Just a bleeding pen, it looked like." "See, you had me thinking it was the other thing." "Eww..didnt you just hear me thank the lord?" I laugh.

Dishes done. I start stacking plates, and moving the food to the buffet tables. No one has come in yet. Crap—I forgot the spoons. "Gary, grab the spoons, for me?" I yell through the swinging doors. He comes in with the punch bowl and spoons. Looking like he might drop it. He doesnt of course. "Thank you." I rearrange the food, utensils, and cups. After my stamp of approval—I turn to Gary. "Could I possibly go take a smoke break?" “If your asking me—then no. You may not. I hate those things.” "Oh please, oh please." He rolls his eyes, "Funny." He continues to pour the soup. I look at him, while I pout my lips. “Yin will you just go! And why are you asking me anyway? Just go. And hurry back!” I give him a salute. He smiles—pretending to ignore me. I smirk, and head out the back door. Teasing him is so fun.

Sitting on the steps, I look out at the woods beside me. Trees. Its just something about them--their so calming. Ahh..I love trees. "I know." What? I heard it, but then technically I didnt. Because that would mean, I had used my ears--I hadnt. Just like in my dream—only now I