This is not what I expected
1073 Words
"HEY, YOU!"
All the peace that I felt at one moment turned into sheer panic. The ferocious voice startled me out of nowhere and the fact that I am extremely clumsy did not help. The book was suddenly on the grass and so was I. Remnants of my long expected coffee were all over my chest and my hair. The chair was beside me, broken. Wow, I must have jumped two meters tall out of fear. Before I even managed to get up and find the loud culprit, I got yelled at again.
"DID I SCARE YOU? HEY, YOU GOT ANY MILK?"
So. I was wrong. The house next door is not empty.
I got back up, looked sadly at the only jeans I owned, and finally turned my attention to the obnoxious creature across the street. And boy, did I have something to look at.
I may have forgotten to mention that I am also in serious need of some glasses. Nevertheless, I did notice some things.
The new occupant was a woman. From the safe distance I observed her slightly overweight body, tucked in a hoodie. Her hair was short and every possible color. Since I am half blind, I was wondering for a while if it's her hat or her hair.
The other thing worth mentioning was the fact that she was standing in the middle of her front yard in just a hoodie with Simpsons and bright red panties. On the lawn, right behind the fence, where people from apartment blocks and me could see her half naked. But obviously she did not care at all. She was standing there like a mighty tree with no perception of shame, or manners, obviously.
I realized I was standing there with coffee dripping down and with my mouth wide open, so I closed them quickly and, for the lack of a better idea, I shouted back.
"Um, yeah, yeah, I do! I'll bring it to you!"
I hurried inside to get the milk for her before it crosses her mind to simply walk across to me dressed like that. I was shocked, to say the least, and the last thing I wanted was for people to realize old Chester's daughter returned. After all, it is hard not to pay attention to an overweight woman roaming the streets in panties.
I was clutching the milk in my hands crossing the street. Only meters away I realized this was no woman at all. Heck, she must have been younger than me! With the hood pulled safely over my head, I felt comfortable enough to send a quick smile her way.
"There you go."
"Thanks," she said, took the milk from my arms and looked me in the eye. I could see that she was curious, so I planned on turning back that exact moment. Unfortunately, she did not give me the chance to do so. The hand that yanked the milk from me returned and her powerful grip startled me. She was dragging me along with her. I tripped twice and only managed to hold my balance when she released my hand on her front porch. She disappeared for a few seconds and came back with a second cup of coffee.
"Are you just going to look at me all frightened or are you going to sit down sometime today?" she asked, while putting milk in her coffee. Then she crossed her legs, took a big sip and sighed in content. Or growled.
I stood there in disbelief for a few seconds, then I just decided to go with the flow. I sat down besides her and poured milk to my second-chance coffee of the day.
She offered me a cigarette, but did not have a lighter, either. Good thing I moved in yesterday, otherwise her morning would be ruined. She would have to dress herself.
Lighter flickered when she lit our cigarettes. We were sitting there, watching my house from hers, enjoying early morning bird calls and cricketts. She was waiting for me to start talking, I think, although she did not seem the kind of person who can be quiet for very long.
I never felt completely comfortable in the company of strangers. I was so painfully shy that even the smallest things, like saying hello or looking at people while talking seemed extremely difficult. It did not help that my mother had a brilliant idea when I was sick. She had my hair cut short, so I would look more like her, as she explained. Well, her intentions were good, but in reality, the idea backfired. I spent the next three years convincing my classmates I was indeed not a boy. Most of the other girls were very feminine, with beautiful long hair and pink shirts. They had all the Barbies and everything they owned, from pencils to notebooks, had to be a bright, sparkly color.
Meanwhile, I cared more about reading interesting stories and playing with ball. I only had two good friends through my younger teens, but I did not really mind. We lost touch soon after. I did not like most people. Hypocrisy rules the world.
"Do you want to see my pets?" a half naked neighbour suddenly asked and pulled me back out to reality.
"Your pets?" I askes carefully, not wanting to offend her. How many pets exactly are we talking about? I can deal with dogs, cats, even a parrot or two, but if she shows me a terrarium filled with tarantulas, I am sprinting out of here so fast the scorch marks are going to appear.
"No, not pets. Rats. Do you want to see my rats?" she repeated the question, staring at me innocently with eyes as big as a small platter.
I am going to need a minute here.
"They are really cute, you'll see, and they are very clean. They only seem a bit gross because of the hairless tail, but once you get over that, it is like petting a hamster."
That does not actually sound that bad. I have always wanted a hamster or a chinchilla or anything fluffy, really. Unfortunately, my mother is histerically afraid of 'all those rats', as she calls every rodent. I tried to convince dad to get something after they divorced, but he firmly states that no animal is allowed on his premises.
"Fine," I agreed. "But I won't touch the tail."
- Writer
