Heal Me

Chapter 10

I feel super drained as I sit at Dennis's mom's table. Ms. Foecher used to have a glazed wooden table where she encased beautiful colorful leaves. However, this table is chipped with red paint to match the rest of the sofas. 

"You can call me Ms. Mathews. Or you can call me Dolores. Whatever suits you honey." She says as she starts to assemble cooking utensils and pots. Even though I feel uncomfortable, I still can't help but find Ms. Mathews inviting. She's clearly a nice woman. Or she could be a serial killer for all I know...

"So," She turns around, leaning her back against her counter,

"How old are you?" 

'I'm 17 now." 

"Wow, really? I thought you were 15." Probably because I encase myself in big downy clothes that hide any type of my growth development. I shrug, not knowing how to respond. 

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. Sometimes words just fly out of my mouth without me knowing." She apologizes. I don't know if I've ever related to something so much in my life. 

"Speaking of not knowing, I probably should call your mom to let her know that you're hear with me if she comes back."

"No!" I blurt a little too urgently. She stares at me for a moment before I explain myself. 

"I mean, I'll just tell her later. She doesn't like to be interrupted at work."

"Oh that makes sense. Sorry." I nod and i go back to looking at the Tv in her living room. I wasn't particularly interested in it because it was showing a whole bunch of people kissing on a island, but i guess it'll have to do for now.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Your mom has mentioned that my son is attending the same school that you go to. Have you guys met yet?" She asks as I try not to choke on my spittle. Can this lady give me a break?

"Ah... I'm not sure."

"He kind of looks like me? At least that's what people say, but he has short black hair and dark brown eyes. He usually dresses in dark clothing, even though I constantly keep trying to make him wear normal things but he doesn't want to listen. Does any of that ring a bell?" 

"I... Yeah I think I might've seen him in the halls or something." She clenches her hands over her heart, a wide smile showing up on her smooth face. 

"Really? Do you know how he's doing? Is he making friends? I mean... did you see him talking to people?"

"I think he was talking to... someone." At least that's not far from the truth. She nods as she pushes all the soup ingredients into the pot, stirring it while she whistles what I can assume is her favorite melody. Then suddenly, as I'm staring at this beautiful and clearly nice woman, I wonder where her husband is?

I mean she's gorgeous, but she calls herself a Ms instead of a Mrs. Is she divorced? 

"Its great that my Dennis is adjusting well to this new school. I was afraid that..." She goes silent for a moment before she coughs uncomfortably.

"I'm just happy. It's hard to be the new kid sometimes." I nod.

"By the way, why don't you wait in the living room? The remotes on the counter if you want to change the Tv."

I thank her and walk a short distance to the living room. I sit in their crimson couch as I change the tv from a bunch of attractive people playing date on a island to Tom & Jerry. What? Tom & Jerry is that show that will never be too babyish for you. At least it'll be enough to distract me from the aspect that I'm in my soon to be bully's territory at the moment. 

After a few minutes of mindlessly watching, I start to feel like I need to relieve myself. 

"Um... Ms. Mathews or Dolores, can I please go to the bathroom?"

"Oh yes! Of course! Do you need help finding it?"

"No, I used to visit here before you guys moved in." I respond honestly, pushing myself off the couch. 

"Okay honey, if you need help don't be afraid to ask." 

I walk down the hallway familiar to me and round the corner where I know the bathroom is. As I'm walking I notice the room next to the bathroom, which used to be Ms. Foecher's book room. There's a door in the kitchen that led to Ms. Foecher's actual bedroom. I look behind me to see if  Ms. Mathews was there.

I then turn the nob to the room, curious to see what has become of it. 

"Wha-?" Yep, definitely Dennis's room. The walls are decorated with dark posters I've never seen before and the floor is scattered with books and papers. I feel jittery as I walk in, knowing I'm crossing enemy lines. 

I bend down as I take up one of the papers. After a moment of looking at it, I realize its a poem. I don't want to read it because I don't particularly like poems (long story) so I grab another piece of paper. This one is way more dialogue based at its called 'The Girl In the Forest'.

I've never met someone who wrote stories as well. He used red ink to probably set the mood of horror. I know this might be morally grey but I fold the piece of paper and pocket it, promising myself that i will return it tomorrow if I arrive home earlier then him. While I'm putting it in, I feel another item in there... the bracelet! Its cool beneath my fingertips as I contemplate whether I should put it on the desk. 

But... its so nice. But I decide to put it back. Its not like I need it anyway. Even if its my first time owning something this nice. 

There's also a book next to the papers called "A book of scary stories". I can clearly tell that his favorite genre is horror. 

I stand up and dust off my knees, not wanting to be caught by his mom in her son's room.

As I'm leaving, I stop by the door and pick up a picture frame of him looking fairly young. He's holding a baseball bat while smiling widely and standing next to a man that looks exactly like him. Never knew that someone like him could even experience happiness that extreme. Again my mind drifts to what could've happened to his father.

I place the picture back and head into the bathroom instead. I wonder when the food will be ready? I've never really put into account how hungry I am. Its probably lunch time over at school, so that might explain it. 

I continue to relieve myself, minding my own business when I hear voices come from the living room. One of them is deep and I can't help but choke on air. Please if there is god, please please please don't make it be him.