to avoid things like this. I realized I should probably talk to Aunt Rose that night. The paranoia-thing combined with the nightmares and seeing cars move in slow motion was probably a really bad sign. For all I knew, it could have been something serious, like a brain tumor or something.
The house was still quiet when I got home, so I started on dinner. Soon the house was filled with the aroma of basil and garlic, making it feel like a home again—a feeling I rarely had anymore. It was even rarer that either Aunt Rose or I prepared a full meal. I usually survived on cereal or TV dinners, but there were the occasions where I craved a home-cooked meal, like my mother used to make almost every night.
Aunt Rose woke and got fully dressed for her shift at work just as I was finishing up making the side salads for us. I placed the lasagna I had made down in the center of the table, and we both took our seats. It felt nice to have someone sitting across from me at the table. Too many nights, I was there alone. But tonight was a perfect night to have dinner together, since I had so much to tell her. Over our salads, I filled her in on the party, and she looked pleased that I had ventured out of my comfort zone and had given it a try. I told her about my quick and easy interview with Ms. Donaldson, and she promised to take me to lunch to celebrate my first job.
Then it came time to dive into the complicated stuff, the stuff about me finally losing it. I hoped she would react nicely and not have me committed or something. “Aunt Rose.” I swallowed hard. “I—um, have been… How are things at work?” I totally panicked and chickened out.
“Do you really want me to tell you about the staple I had to remove from Mr. Clary’s forehead last night? Some men should never be allowed to handle tools.” She shook her head, pulling a piece of lasagna from the dish. “Here, give me your plate, and I will cut you a piece,” she offered.
The tomato sauce oozed out, pooling at the bottom of the dish where Aunt Rose’s piece of lasagna used to be, just as I pictured Aunt Rose pulling out a staple from Mr. Clary’s head and the blood that followed. I lost my appetite. “No, thanks. The salad filled me up. Maybe I’ll have a piece later.” I looked away and fidgeted with my fork.
“You okay? You look like there’s something on your mind.” She gave me a puzzled look.
“Fine.” I answered too quickly. “I guess I’m just a little nervous about my starting work tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, you are going to be great.” She smiled.
After Aunt Rose finished dinner, she thanked me and left for work. I cleaned the kitchen, putting half of the uneaten lasagna in the freezer and the rest in the refrigerator. Then the house was quiet and lonely again. I tried Roger once more, but he was still not answering. It seemed weird that he was avoiding me like this; he had never stayed mad at me for this long. When it was time for bed, I lay there, trying to stay up as long as possible. There was a part of me that was scared to close my eyes, scared of what I would see if I had another dream.
I woke the next morning to the loud buzzing of my alarm clock. It had been a dreamless night, and I felt refreshed and ready for my first day at work. I got ready quickly and had plenty of time to spare before I was supposed to report to work at 9:00 a.m. After eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I packed myself a lunch, not knowing if I would get a break long enough to walk somewhere. The morning air was brisk, but I enjoyed how the cool air felt on my face. I arrived at the library about fifteen minutes early, and the lights were still off. Peering through the glass door, I tried to see if Ms. Donaldson was there, but she was nowhere in sight.
Standing outside, I pondered what I should do. Then I remembered the spare key she had given me before I had left the day before. Still I stood there, hesitating about whether or not I should use it.
The house was still quiet when I got home, so I started on dinner. Soon the house was filled with the aroma of basil and garlic, making it feel like a home again—a feeling I rarely had anymore. It was even rarer that either Aunt Rose or I prepared a full meal. I usually survived on cereal or TV dinners, but there were the occasions where I craved a home-cooked meal, like my mother used to make almost every night.
Aunt Rose woke and got fully dressed for her shift at work just as I was finishing up making the side salads for us. I placed the lasagna I had made down in the center of the table, and we both took our seats. It felt nice to have someone sitting across from me at the table. Too many nights, I was there alone. But tonight was a perfect night to have dinner together, since I had so much to tell her. Over our salads, I filled her in on the party, and she looked pleased that I had ventured out of my comfort zone and had given it a try. I told her about my quick and easy interview with Ms. Donaldson, and she promised to take me to lunch to celebrate my first job.
Then it came time to dive into the complicated stuff, the stuff about me finally losing it. I hoped she would react nicely and not have me committed or something. “Aunt Rose.” I swallowed hard. “I—um, have been… How are things at work?” I totally panicked and chickened out.
“Do you really want me to tell you about the staple I had to remove from Mr. Clary’s forehead last night? Some men should never be allowed to handle tools.” She shook her head, pulling a piece of lasagna from the dish. “Here, give me your plate, and I will cut you a piece,” she offered.
The tomato sauce oozed out, pooling at the bottom of the dish where Aunt Rose’s piece of lasagna used to be, just as I pictured Aunt Rose pulling out a staple from Mr. Clary’s head and the blood that followed. I lost my appetite. “No, thanks. The salad filled me up. Maybe I’ll have a piece later.” I looked away and fidgeted with my fork.
“You okay? You look like there’s something on your mind.” She gave me a puzzled look.
“Fine.” I answered too quickly. “I guess I’m just a little nervous about my starting work tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, you are going to be great.” She smiled.
After Aunt Rose finished dinner, she thanked me and left for work. I cleaned the kitchen, putting half of the uneaten lasagna in the freezer and the rest in the refrigerator. Then the house was quiet and lonely again. I tried Roger once more, but he was still not answering. It seemed weird that he was avoiding me like this; he had never stayed mad at me for this long. When it was time for bed, I lay there, trying to stay up as long as possible. There was a part of me that was scared to close my eyes, scared of what I would see if I had another dream.
I woke the next morning to the loud buzzing of my alarm clock. It had been a dreamless night, and I felt refreshed and ready for my first day at work. I got ready quickly and had plenty of time to spare before I was supposed to report to work at 9:00 a.m. After eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I packed myself a lunch, not knowing if I would get a break long enough to walk somewhere. The morning air was brisk, but I enjoyed how the cool air felt on my face. I arrived at the library about fifteen minutes early, and the lights were still off. Peering through the glass door, I tried to see if Ms. Donaldson was there, but she was nowhere in sight.
Standing outside, I pondered what I should do. Then I remembered the spare key she had given me before I had left the day before. Still I stood there, hesitating about whether or not I should use it.
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