TWIRL

The story of a kidnapped girl.

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4. Four

      I lazily strech my legs from under the warm covers. My head turns slightly to the side, escaping from the burning sun rays that come from the window. I groan when I fail to protect myself and force it up. I quickly take notice of the abscence of a second body. My mouth releases a long yawn acompanied of a great strong feeling of disappointment. Here I am again, alone.

I gather my limbs and tip toe to the bathroom. Once clean and clothed, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen, propably willing to calm my hunger. As I pass the dinning room, a raspy  familiar voice can be heard easily ; Harry . I slow my steps.

“She’s here.... yes.... I’m taking care of it... alright... okay... see you soon.”

The last word is spoken quietly before a heavy silence lands on the house. My heart races impossibly fast when I recognized his footsteps coming towards the hall, just where I’m standing and overhearing that conversation. I run in a rush to the kitchen, trying my best not to make any sound. As soon as I pretended to be busy preparing some toasts, Harry appears from the hall. He looks surprized when he first saw me, but forces his mouth to curve . His smile doesn’t reach his dimples.

“Good morning.” I say in my most reassuring voice.

My smile seems to spread relief into his body. It should be something really important to worry about its privacy like that.

“Morning.” He whispers, making himself a cup of juice.

“Here, I made you some toasts.” I offer, smiling.

All what I hear then, is a little shy “Thanks” spoken carelessly.

It’s with a gloomy heart that I sit beside him, on one of the four tall black chairs surrounding the tea table. I begin :

“Harry... I... want to know about myself, you, the accident and my life before ! You don’t know h...how perplexed I am !”

With Harry still looking down to his glass that now seems more interresting than me, I feel anger coming over me. Is he trying to ignore me again ?

I deliberately strike the table under my hand in an attempt to inform him of my inpatient state.

About five minutes passed before he finally speaks, his focus never leaving the green apple juice :

“You rented an appartement in London, three months ago. Unfortunally to you, the rent was high and you couldn’t affrod your scolar supplies with the amount of money your uncle gives you regulary, so you searched for a job.”

I’m carefully listening to what he’s saying . It is such a funny thing you’re discovering your own self by means of someone else. It’s like you’re being involved in a life you have no clue about it, feeling that you’re hearing another person’s story like every time you do whan you talk with your best friends, laughing and judging people secretly for fun. You may not pay too much attention when doing that, because you know you don’t care. But now, every little stupid detail can’t go  unremarked. Each one, even the most ridiculous, defines you, makes you who you really are.

“That’s when I met you. Starbucks . In starbucks. You applied for a job there, and I was passing by , willing to grab a hot coffee before work. Then I saw you...”

Harry’s words echo in my mind, betraying and offering me to my imagination. I already can see the frame of a girl, brown long hair, hazel eyes, handing a stranger his cup of coffee in a busy work day. She doesn’t take notice of the male staring curiously at her. Although, when she hands him his order and their fingers brush momentarily, she feels a spark vibrating in her entire body. I see the things escalading fast, the handsome young man asking for a date, and his fancy turns into a love declaration. My heart flutters with the picture of a happy couple walking in the park, stealing playful kisses and hugs. 

“It all happened really fast.” He says, his deep green shadowed eyes still hidden from mine.

“You were driving home when... you crashed into another vehicule.”

I wince at the horrible pictures my mind is displaying me.

“The accident was too dangerous that you lost a part of your memory.”

I have a strange feeling about all what Harry have told me. Nothing seems real, even if I know I forgot everything. I can’t process it though.

Harry’s orbs gaze me. He seems unsure. He dosen’t break our eyes contact till a ring tone play in the room.

“I gotta go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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