Mel

Room. Books. Dust.

Trapped in this dry-abandoned place. A place only few would go. A place where my heart sinks every time I am here. A tinge of sadness drags my whole being standing in the middle of nowhere. Blurry visions, haunting. Haunting me.

“Mel, Mel!” shaking me off.

It was a dream.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, Mel, you looked awful.” handing me her circular-pinkish-white mirror.

“You are weeping in your sleep.”

I cried? Why? My reflection says it all. Sweat all over my tanned-face, tears mixed. Staring at myself. What happened?

“Prepared some breakfast for you, babes,” Evie sensually whispered in my ears, touching my spine.

“Let me fix your hair first,” soft hands massaging my head, her, here in our bed. What a sweet thing.

“Thank you.” She prepared three-cooked rare eggs, cheese hotdogs, rice placed in one plate.

“How about you?”

“I am done. Don’t worry about me, babes” smiling at me.

“Is it the same dream again?” she asked.

“Yeah, same dream,” now on my last bite.

Evie, my girlfriend, slender, round-faced, is here in our not-so-spacious room watching me eat. Sweet.

“Betty called,”

“When?” I asked.

“Just a while ago, maybe ten minutes or fifteen minutes,”

“What did she say?”

“She was yelling, saying something”

“What?”

“I don’t know, you call her.”

“Not interested, of everything she says,Eves”

“Why not?” her voice sounded high-pitched.

“She is saying things that are weird, and it irritates me.”

“Like what?” her eyes gazing me, serious.

“You don’t wanna hear it, Eves,”

“Okay,” her shoulders shrugging.

“Really, it’s not that important,” headed towards her. Kissed her. She kissed back. Her smell, a sweet-smelling-rosy-flower, reached my nostrils. Her moans, ahhh, turning me on.

My hands are inside her, circular in motion. She groaned. “Babes,”

Her tongue is slowly going under me, from my neck, down to my breasts, gently, and finally, in me. Wet.

“ahhhhhhhh,” holding her hair. I came.

Still gasping for air, she joined me lie in bed. Glaring the plain-white ceiling. Her head resting in my arms.

“This is forever,Eves, I love…”

My phone vibrated and Betty’s name is on the screen.

“Answer it,” she smiled.

“Where are you, Mel?” coming from the other line.

“Just…”

“Don’t tell me, you’re still in bed.” Sounded like

“Come here, you’re late for work Mel!”

She hang up.

“Guess, needs to go.”

I had my shower, now fresh, headed to the door, and went to work.

“Here,” handed me a list of new arrived books to be sorted. Not smiling.

“Thanks,” oblivious. Her hands stocked on her keyboards, eyes locked on the monitor. Without prior notice, our work is done.

I fixed my things ready to leave when Betty grabbed my arms from behind, dragging me, until we reached a café just outside our building. She chose the corner and we sat there, while waiting for her cappuccino. I did not order, not a fan of coffees or teas. There were only few people tonight. Maybe because it rained in the afternoon. Different fragrance from different brand of coffee had diffused to where we stayed. I have to tell, I like the smell of it.

“What are you doing, Mel?” her starting statement.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Tell me honestly, Mel,” her face serious. “Did you stay in that place, again?” I watched her, said nothing, she knew the answer.

“Look, Mel, go home,” she stopped, “I am just worried, Mel, your mother too.”

“Stop it, Bet,” Here she is again. Telling me things. Stop, Mel, I am worried, whatsoever.

“No, don’t tell me that Mel, we promised one another to,”

“Silly, that was when we were kids, eleven? Twelve? Bet, we are no longer kids!” Her face blank, shocked with what I said. “I think you know what I mean,” tears fell from her eyes, “Mel,” her eyes, red, “Please, don’t say that,” her voice shaking, I did not mean it. I promise. I wanted to tell her, but the lump in my throat restrained me from talking. The customers started looking at us. Whispering each other.

“Have to go,” cutting the awkward silence between us. “You don’t need to do this, Bet, really, I am fine” standing, ready to go.

Betty with her eyeglasses on just glared at me.

“Mel, you,”

“Stop, Bet,” headed to the door, dashing my way outside going nowhere, relaxing my nerves before they explode. Park. Bar. House.

Now, lying in my crib. Memories with Betty kept running in my mind. Interloper. Why can’t she mind her own business?

“Mel?” asked my mother, outside my room.

“Are you asleep?” I did not answer. “Good night, Mel,” her voice was soft, calm. She left. I closed my eyes.