Gods Among Us

I am frozen, eyes unblinking, breath paused and held in my chest, as if being completely still will hide me from the eyes of the divine T-rex standing unwelomed in my apartment. Much like the discredited theory, I am entirely wrong in my hopes that my stillness has provided camouflage. This predator sees me, and I am trapped, alone, and human. I take a small step back, my eyes watching every movement. “Why aren’t you worshipping me, mortal?... You did see the glowing lights, right?” He lets out a short huff of a laugh. Sun-lit eyes stare at me from across the room, questioning. Bright and luminescent, like liquid gold. That’s how you knew, how you knew they were Gods. Their eyes are always gold. As if they needed just one more thing to show us that they were superior. I scoff at his open arms, finding a piece of myself and holding onto it. “Not interested, thanks.” “Not interested? I come down here to this terribly drab, primitive place, to fulfill your prayer, and this is the thanks I get?” He shakes his head. I squint my eyes at him, his golden hair making me sick to my stomach. “I didn’t ask you to come, you decided all on your own to show up in my home without permission.” At the rate they intruded in on people's homes we may as well put up "Welcome! Walk on in" signs on our houses. Even if I were to call the police, to report a break in by a God, I’d be told to quit wasting the department's time with trivial complaints, that I should be honored to have a Gods attention. That, or according to who's on call, given an apology and a thinly veiled "say your goodbyes" speech. They'd ask me if I have anything to pass along to my next of kin, in which I had neither. These beings did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, and people still loved them for it. Like maxed Stat celebrities in a public stunt tantrum phase. I purse my lips “Now, I’d appreciate it if you showed yourself out.” I clench my fist to stop it from trembling. The God tilts his head to the side and blinks, like he’s trying to uncover some great mystery. He squints his eyes and opens his mouth to speak before shutting it again. I guess he didn’t run into many humans who had little to no patience for the Gods anymore. Finding his voice again he nods his head forward and a small smile comes to his face. “I'm sorry, i'd thought a humorous act would ease this greeting...but, I can see now that this may have been the wrong way to approach things.” His eyes scanned the room, then they came back to rest on me. “I apologize for the intrusion.” I don’t know what makes them think something like this is okay in the first place, maybe it’s entirely due to the fact that they’re something other than human, or perhaps it’s an effect of their superiority complex, but I don’t say another word, electing to look at him pointedly. He rubs at a ring on his finger. “I will, um...show myself out. May the rest of your evening be pleasant.” Although he’d said that, he’s still standing there like I’m about to stop him. I raise an eyebrow in response then look out of the corners of my eyes, still waiting. His eyes drop to the floor and in the next moment, a brilliant gold glow fills the room, softer than before. When it dies down, the God is gone and I'm alone again. The dim lights make everything seem so small, closed in and…hollow. My heart is pounding in my chest as I let my body plop down onto the double seated brown suede couch. I let my head drop back, eyes closed, and finally let out the breath I'd been holding. The soft material of the couch catches and snags at strands of my hair, but I welcome the familiar feeling. I turn and curl my limbs up into the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees, willing myself to sink into the cushions comfort. Like this, it's easy to remember the day my mother picked it out. She’d said it made the room homey, that it made the room look safe. I let out an unsteady breath. He could have killed me, and no one would blink an eye, no one would cause an uproar, just like my parents. He could have killed me. *** I wake up with a pounding headache, unnecessarily bright sunlight flooding in through messily parted curtains, and scorch marks on my once cream white wall, that I hadn’t seen until the sleep left my eyes. No matter how many times I scrubbed at them, they didn’t come out, and they didn’t fade in the least either. Each one of them, always felt the need to leave their mark on something. Staining it, destroying it! I want to scream in frustration at each heavy, bleached filled pass if the rag, but elect for continued practice of emotional control or at least an attempt at salvaging whatever was left of it. But the heat from the sight of it kept building up in my chest. The longer I looked at the stain, the deeper my headache got, so after nearly a full hour, I thought it time to get out of the apartment. I toss the rag in the kitchen sink, not bothering with rinsing it. On my way out, my parents faces smile at me from the framed picture hanging on the wall by the door. The only picture that I have left of them. I have a harder time looking at them today. *** After walking around for about 30 minutes my stomach lets me know that it didn’t appreciate my lack of breakfast. And my headache joins the protest. Cindy’s Crepes seem as good of a place as any and Im hoping a large dose of sugar will give me the temporary boost of serotonin that I need right now. Since the weathers pretty clear, I take a table outside, making quick eye contact with an awaiting server. A woman, appearing to be in her late twenties, smiles sweetly at me as she makes her way over for my order. Her long dark brown ponytail swings behind her, the tips of her hair brushing below her waist softly with her every movement. Everything about her, especially her deep brown eyes spill warmth... but, somethings off. No...no. I'm being overly cautious. Too on edge. She's just here trying to do do her job. I return her smile, hoping she didn't catch my moment of unease. Luckily, I'm in the clear. With a playful hand placed on her hip, she leans towards me, her hair cascading over the shoulders of her neat black button down shirt. I don't see a name tag but I do get a subtle whiff of her caramel apple body spray, the same as mine, my favorite. I can feel some tension leave my shoulders. "Hey sweetness! You're much too button cute to be wearing such a sad face so early in the day, but I think I can help you with that!" I almost expect her to pinch my cheek with her demeanor, I don't think I would have minded. Her energy is...nice. "Oh! I know exactly what you need! You strike me as a...Mango Magic kinda girl. Amiright?" she points at me with her open hand, waiting. After skimming the ingredients of the crepe on the menu even though I'm sure they haven't changed since the last time I came here, I can't help the small smile that comes to my face as I nod my head. "You're goooood. I'll have one of those please." She winks and for the smallest of moments I see my mother in her. At first glance, you'd think that she'd have been working here for years she seemed so comfortable here...but that couldn't be, this is the first time I'm seeing her here, I'm sure of it. I'm no stranger to Cindy's Crepes. In an effort to return her warmth I look up at her, trying to make polite conversation. "What do you you like more about this job? The people? The pay? Or the free after hour sweets?" The woman laughs, something mischievous in her grin. She leans a bit closer to me, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Well I can tell you one thing sweetness...it ain't the pay." She straightens back up. "...but the free deserts are a nice touch." I place my hand on my chin. "Ahhhh a kindred soul... so it's the sweets that drew you in and convinced you to stay." The woman's brown eyes catch the sun as she tilts her head up a bit making them flash a soft gold. She grins, holding in her laughter. "Something like that. I might have a downright obsession, depending on who you ask." Her grin doesn't leave her face. "I'll be right back with your order sweetness, don't go running off okay?" I grin. "Without my expensive fix of sugar? I wouldn't dare." She nods. "That's what I like to hear." The woman's back faster than expected, crepe in hand. She offers a last "Enjoy" as she makes her way back to her post. I feel like I can breathe a bit smoother. The sun warming the back of my neck chips away at the unease that’s filled my body since last night. Its easier now, to clear my mind, and the mango cream crepe hits the spot just right. It’s not difficult to lose myself in the moment, scrolling idly through my phone, rocking my feet on the ball of my heels. "Thank you sweet sugar." It’s almost too easy to forget, and I welcome the blanketing mental quiet. “Goodmorning Tia.~” The voice startles me out of my calm, making me jump and hit my elbow on the black iron table. I look up so quickly my neck aches. “Oh my God! What do you want!?” My hand is at my chest clutching at my knit cardigan. It’s him. The one from yesterday. He smiles matter-of-factly, giving a short laugh at something he found funny and points at me. “I didn’t quite get the chance to properly introduce myself yesterday. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot..." He left out When he entered my home unwelcome. But i'm sure it's implied. "...I am called Arul. God of promise, born from the Goddess of-” Before he can get out the rest of his sentence, I cut him off, dropping my spoon down into my plate, holding a finger out to him. “Before you finish, let me just say, in the least rude way that I can manage, really... I do not care, and I’d rather not get to know you okay? So, before you decide to settle in…don’t.” I make a point of turning back to my phone, trying to do my best to ignore his presence and hurriedly finish the rest of my crepe. I should have ordered this to go. I hear him gasp slightly. He’s offended. Good. I don’t have a death wish. I just find it very hard to offer him any politeness. He clears his throat. "I honestly... don't think you...really tried to make that come out the least bit pleasant." My emotions seem to be winning out over practicality these days. I want him to leave. I want him to get up and walk away or glow away, or whatever Gods do to disappear. I don’t even care if he sets me aflame. I just want him to leave me alone. Instead of Spontaneously combusting or something of that nature, like I’d been expecting to, or seen on the news when you generally anger a God, His hand comes to mine, resting on my phone. He lowers it down on the table, and holds it there until I looked up at him. His eyes are molten gold, and they flicker with an inner fire. “ Tia..." He says my name with too much familiarity. Like we're longtime friends catching up. "...I am well versed on your feelings about us, and I know that you-” “You don’t know a thing about me.” My palms hit the table with a lot more force than I’d intended when I snatch my hand away and get up from my seat. I’d lost my appetite. I turn on my heel, ready to go, hurriedly digging into my pocket, trying to find money to place a tip for the woman. “Leave me alone. I mean it.” I slam the money down on the table, placing the edge of the plate on top of it to keep any stray breeze from displacing it. “I can not do that Tia. A promise was made. A promise was made to your mother," he starts speaking faster trying to get all of his words out "-to you Tia, and it has to be seen through. In your mother’s name, to avoid catastrophe-” I stop, whirling around to face him, my hand tightening around my phone. “How dare you. Don’t you dare speak about my mother.” I point viciously at him, glaring a hole into him. "You know so much about me, then you should know how poor of a choice it is to bring up my murdered mother as a conversation starter the second time after meeting me, or the first after breaking into my home!" I'm shouting now, but the only other person outside the restaurant to hear it is the woman who took my order. She's looking right at me but I can't seem to draw up any embarrassment. I can't tell if it's worry, or intrigue on her face. Her eyes shift to the God in front of me, and they stay there for a bit, studying him. The God takes a small step back, almost as if he wants to rush away. Before it can completely confuse me, the sight of one of them disengaging from confrontation, he quickly looks up at the sky, hand over his heart-that is, where it should be if their anatomy is the same as ours- a small and very brief moment of pleading or panic flits across his face. Almost as quickly as it'd appeared, it's gone and he's looking back down at me. He takes that small step forward, his calm demeanor back, as if it'd never left in the first place. Crossing the small distance I’d made between us, gingerly, he moves towards me as if he were facing a skittish stray cat. “Tia, I swear to you, I do not have a thought in my body about harming you. You do not trust me...and that is okay...it was to be expected. But..." He wet his lips as I stare at him through narrowed eyes. "...A promise was made to your mother and I intend to keep it, whether you want me to or not.” He gives the ornate ring on his finger a small twist. “You do not wish to speak with me, understandably so, especially on such a matter, and believe me, I implore you to, I don’t wish to upset you any further Tia, but a great greed hungers over a long held infatuation. Time has run out and protection wears dangerously thin.” He holds his hands out to me, eerily close to looking as if he might even start begging. “There is a conversation that needs to be had, and a wrong righted. I ask for a moment of your time Tia." I open my mouth to tell him just where he could stick his moment. But he's anticipated that. "Yes, you do not owe me a thing and my words may mean absolutely nothing to you, but I promise you, I just want to help. All I ask for is a moment of your time.” Though he makes no further movement with his hands, his eyes act in their place. “Not as a god, but from someone who unconditionally cares.” My lips purse, but I don’t take another step back. “What promise, what’re you talking about?” I snap. “As of the moment…” His eyes quickly dart around our surroundings, scanning, searching, landing on the woman from earlier. “I will not be discussing the specifics of the matter, as it is strictly contractor/contractee confidential. But know that I aim to bring some ease back into your life.” The man fixes his arm in an escort-like manner waiting. I cross my arms in answer, turning to look down the length of the side walk. As if I’d hold the arm of a god, no, as if I’d hold the arm of some stranger with pretty words. Fully aware of, and the brunt of my unconcealed suspicion The man clears his throat, dropping his arm but comes to stand beside me nonetheless. The sleeves of his pristine white jacket brush my arm, so I take a small step over to cut that connection. "There is a temple, 5 minutes walk from here. It is open, and public, a place where you’ll have no fear of… divine …harm, or prying ears. It is a place that we will be able to talk.” He Pauses. “Will you accompany me Tia?” I fight a scowl off of my face. “Let’s make this quick.” My discomfort grows. Despite my attitude he smiles, turns his face away from me, and let's out a small breath. “I am glad.” I don’t look too long at the soft smile on his face, my stomach clenches and I feel growing queasiness, but I let him lead the way.