Thirst
1110 Words
"Rise and shine!" Mom started.
I squinted my bloodshot eyes at her as she drew my curtains and let in the glorious misery of the sun rays.
I groaned desperately.
"Get out of bed before your face gets as swollen as Aurelius' buns." She chuckled as she approached my bed.
"I'm not in the mood." I groaned.
"Well you should be because your father and I are leaving you alone for a few hours starting in about twenty minutes from now."
What a surprise!
"Okay then bye. Lock the door on your way out." I groaned, rolling deeper into the blanket.
She sighed exasperated and walked out having kissed my hair goodbye.
°°°°°°°
I would have blamed my silly head for playing the sound of a revving machine as the theme song for the erotic dream I was just participating in but then there is reality.
I got grumpily got out of bed wondering where the noise came from. My curiosity led me to my window to peek outside and see what it was.
"Oh bumshit." Not again.
I grabbed a towel and threw it over my lower half and walked on downstairs then outside to the backyard.
"Oh hello." I greeted, fazed.
He slid off his safety goggles over his hair and exposed familiar hunter brown eyes.
"How are you doing today Billy?" He grinned.
"You? What are you doing here?!"
"Mowing your lawn." He answered blankly.
"Why?"
"I don't know! Because I thought your grass needed a buzz cut?"
I sighed
"Funny."
"But you're not laughing."
I sighed again.
"Why don't you go and put some clothes on? It might give you more weight that the wind might not kiss away so easily." He asserted.
"Oh yeah? Well why don't you get a better haircut?
"I know for sure its better than yours." He popped his tongue out at me before instantly mowing on.
"WELL GUESS WHAT?! YOU SUCK!" I screamed but the machine was louder and he dramatically chose not to listen.
°°°°°°°
An hour had passed, and so had three knocks at my locked transparent French backdoor by the kitchen I sat at.
I paid them no attention.
"Hey are you serious that you can't hear me?" I heard his muffled frustration, I was getting the best of him through my midly muted doors.
"Hey!" He cried out, "I need water!! Hey!!"
A few mental episodes later, the psychotic was gone.
Oh.
I put the book i was faking to read down by the counter and began searching the perimeter.
I had done a full sweep on the entire first floor and it was clear.
I manned up and swept the second floor and it was oddly clear.
I expected him to climb some windows like a gibbon.
Suddenly as I made the first step towards the stairs for descent, I heard the boards on the first floor creak.
Stupidly I got scared but immediately remembered he has no good reason to harm me.
I tiptoed on descent and finally touched the first floor.
I was welcomed by an eerie feeling of enigma and terror within me.
What if I befriended a psycho that ran out of an asylum? I mean these are woods and are the best hideouts.
"Hello?" I softly called out as I went on along to the sitting room.
I nervously presented myself in the area and it was vaguely safe.
I then made my way to kitchen and all I started to hear was the toning sound of the revving machine.
And then another floor board creaked behind me. I tensed up and froze.
The sound wasn't so far behind.
As if by coincidence, my eyes locked at a drawer of knifes, right ahead of my vision, intentionally pulled out of the settling display of an organised kitchen.
I gasped.
A cold blade was slowly slid right under my neck and a balmy thick hand came over my head.
I froze bewildered.
Thereafter came the sensation of manliness, pure alpha energy clash right onto my body from the rear.
Unfortunately I realised it was the warmth, not the main thing.
A tingly spark unnerved my left ear and I could feel hot breath run at my pinna "If I ever ask you for water and you don't quench my thirst, you are as good as dead."
Oh.
I knew it.
This bumshit from the smelliest of arses is actually a cold kill-
Suddenly there were cackles.
A maniacal and psychotic dose of them if you'd ask me.
The weapon dropped right out of his hand and clanged on the floor.
"What is wrong with you?" I stressed, repossessing my breath.
Fletcher helped himself with a glass of water in a flash and was all rehydrated already as I stood there still dumbfounded.
"Hey you!" He sighed in relief from thirst, "Fix your face."
I popped my tongue out at him thereafter settling myself down on a stool by the counter.
"Same old house." Fletcher remarked as he gazed around disinterested.
Then his eyes met mine.
We held the stare for about a two seconds.
"You know, there's something I've learned about you." He smirked, blankly.
"Oh yeah? What did you find out? That I wanna have s*x with you?"
I couldn't believe my horn got the best of me.
"I am-
"What the actual f**k?" He exclaimed.
What have I done?
"Uh, I didn't mean it like that. It was something I normally say to boys that are so homophobic and try to bully me." My tongue felt heavy I swear.
He looked dumbfounded before but an episode later he looked quizzical.
"Why are you being defensive?"
"Because I am such a victim of -"
Wait why was about to open to him?
"A victim of what?" He sounded and looked intrigued.
"It's none of your business."
"I don't see it profiting by you keeping it a secret."
I sighed.
The front door bell rang.
"Honey I'm home." Mother cried out.
I groaned mentally before I put on an act.
"Welcome back mom." I grinned as she made her way to the kitchen.
"Oh what a surprise!" She exclaimed having met Fletcher, "I thought you were supposed to-
"Oh yes! I was just grabbing a drink." Fletcher explained.
"Oh it's alright." She excused, " "Well, are you hungry boys?"
"Mm, yeah pretty much it." I spoke for the both of us.
"Well give me about an hour and you'll be stuffed, huh? How about that, hm?" She grinned.
"But mom why would you-
"Because I can." She walked away.
- Writer
