Silver

My hair, curly and silver, shining like moonlight upon lake water, was caressed by the candlelight as I examined my physique in the mirror. I looked into my blue eyes and at my unnatural, ghost-like, pale skin and combed through my hair feeling its tangles and disorganization. The mirror was almost perfectly clean, but there were a few drops of crimson candle wax ruining the otherwise beautiful mirror. My room was horrendous; clothes were covering the chair of my desk and stains in my once-grey carpet. The window was covered by a heavy black curtain to keep the sunlight from entering my room throughout the day. There was a single candle by my mirror on a wooden shelf. On the shelf were stacks upon stacks over books and old sketches I used to draw as well as a few old letters that of which the names had already faded the envelope and my memory. There was also a necklace hanging on the door of my closet. It had two wires encapsulating a beautiful blood-red crystal and was hung by a black chain.

Once I had finished combing my hair, my attention was drawn to my phone, which sat on my messy bed that was cluttered with books, pens, pencils, and a video game controller. There was a thick, dark-blue blanket, nearly falling off of the bed, and a pillow with stars on it. I collapsed on top of the bed, strategically dodging all the excess mess on the bed and picked up the phone and unlocked it. I scrolled through my social media feed and liked a few pictures of guys and my friends and the occasional animal playing some sort of instrument. After getting off the app and looking through my notification panel, I noticed that I had gotten a voicemail from my Jacin. I reluctantly clicked on it, worried that he was only going to complain about his art classmates again. I began to listen to the voicemail, which was unusually short.

“Hello? Hey. I need to sh-show you somethin’ later. I-I recorded it.” His voice sounded uneasy, almost terrified. He continued, “I don’t know what to do. If you’re too busy, I can just text it to you. It’s ok.” The uncomfortable tone in his voice made me feel equally as nervous, but I lacked genuine concern because Jacin wasn’t a very adventurous person, which meant that he must’ve been over exaggerating. That voicemail was from July 19th. It had been two months since he first sent me this. Two months without receiving another voicemail at all. Jacin usually called me every-so-often to tell me something that happened at school, but never enough to know if he was doing good or if something unpleasant had occurred that day. However, he had stopped doing so about six months before I got the voicemail. Aldez explained to me that he wanted to become more independent.

Suddenly, a knock broke through the silence of my house and I exited my room. The rest of the house was well-lit with natural lighting flowing in from the windows and a scent of fresh linen danced around my nose. The beige carpet was clean and felt like a cloud beneath my aching feet. The door was a light-brown wooden color and the doorknob was made of brass. I reached for the doorknob; it was ice cold and felt as if it were burning my skin. I twisted it and looked into the person’s hazel eyes; it was Aldez Elure, my closest friend. Her tight, brown, curly hair fell just barely over her shoulders. She was wearing a denim skirt with an adorable sunflower shirt. She wore rounded glasses and she had an eager look in her eyes.

Aldez looked me up and down (I had only been wearing sweatpants) and said, “Oh looks like you forgot to put all of your clothes on again, dude!” She laughed a little bit and I blushed, and then she continued, “Hey! Are ya gonna let me in or are ya gonna keep starin’ at me like a creep?”

“Ope! You’re the one who showed up unannounced. So don’t you dare snap at me!” I replied in a hostile, but friendly manner.

“Okay let me in!” Aldez demanded. She pushed her way through the door and, on her way in, she kicked my shin and laughed. Then, Aldez collapsed on the couch as if she had been dodging sleep for days, although her eyes were still as ecstatic as ever.

“So what brings you here?” I asked. She stared at me as if I had asked the most absurd question ever.

“I’m not allowed here or somethin’? Since when did you start cleanin’ up? It smells so much better in here. Toldja.” Her excitement seemed to flow endlessly. She began tapping her foot and looking around.

“Aldez…” I said, nervously, “Where is Jacin? He said he needed to show me something, but like, that was two months ago.”

Aldez looked calm and stated, “He’s up in the Big City with our Dad. Gonna make it big or whateva.”

“Are you sure?” She slapped me.

“Yeah! I know where my brother is! What? You don’t trust me?”

“I mean I do, but we both know that he would totally message back. He actually has no friends.” Aldez playfully pushed me and we both laughed, for she knew I had only been joking.

“Hey, Ethan!!” Aldez screamed, “Are you going to the art show later?”

“I think so. Are you?” I replied.

“Duh!” She looked at me and we stared at each other for the longest time. Her eyes focused on my blue eyes as if she were trying to kill me with her mind. We broke eye contact and then laughed again.

“Meet me in front of the theater at 7:00!” Aldez said. She then immediately left the house and ran to her car. I stared at her through the screen door and she waved and then started backing out. I waved back, turned around, and shut the door.

I went back to my dimly lit room to sit down on my bed once more. The room seemed to be darker than it was prior to Aldez’s visit. The room smelled strangely nice; strong scents of cinnamon embraced my nose and hugged my heart. Although the aroma was pleasant, I felt nauseous, so I collapsed upon my bed, feeling exhausted. Suddenly, I heard a noise. It sounded like the crunch of walking on leaves in late November. I thought nothing of it and continued to relax and even closed my eyes and began to fall asleep. Before I could do that, however, I was interrupted by a sudden crash through the window in the kitchen, which was right outside of my room. I shot up, but walked slowly to my door and then hesitantly opened it. I tiptoed out of my room as if I were a criminal attempting to escape a poorly guarded facility. I looked towards the kitchen window, my heart beating faster and faster. A knife laid in the broken glass in the middle of the tiled floor. At this point, I had no longer wished to remain in that house; it was unsafe, at least that was my presumption.

I walked back to my room to get dressed in a calm panic. Having already been half-way undressed, I took off my black sweatpants that I had on already and threw them on the ground in a pile of already-worn clothes, and then walked to my closet to decide what to wear. Formal or casual? I thought. There was no point in trying, so I chose casual. The outfit of choice was some skin-tight jeans (dark red, of course), a hoodie with a random metal band on it, despite that fact that I had never listened to much metal and white shoes that were still shockingly white. I looked into the mirror, admiring my face once more. Oh, how pretty, I thought to myself and then looked at the time. It read 5:46 p.m. Although I wasn’t late, I felt the sudden urge to leave the house and do something; I had already been bored out of my mind earlier that week. I grabbed my drawstring bag with all my recreational stuff in it and opened the door to my room. My feet slowly tip-toed across the room as if I had been sneaking to the kitchen for a midnight snack while my parents slept peacefully in the other room. The carpet was snow and I was traveled through the blizzard of thoughts that seemed to encompass me in my house. The light from broken window cast an orange glow upon my body and the door I was about to exit from. I grabbed the doorknob carefully and twisted it gently before stopping and turning around to admire the beauty of the house; the glow caressed parts of house, creating a piece of artwork that could only be enjoyed for a few minutes. I suddenly snapped out of my intense daze and finished twisting the doorknob and walked slowly out of the door onto the front porch where there sat a fake orchid plant, an ashtray, and a coffee mug. I pulled out a key from my drawstring bag and locked my front door, then moved slowly down the stairs of the porch.

I had no vehicle to ride, so my legs were the only transportation available to me. The air was mellow and wind gently blew around me, rustling the trees and making my hair dance. My footsteps were soft against the pavement and the summer air smelled of freshly mowed grass; the sounds and aromas were a dulcet song, hugging my body with such amazing carelessness, but incredible love. There were a few children playing in a tree and yelling at each other playfully. One picked up a stick and began swinging it around as if they were a knight defending his princess. Another picked up a smaller stick, closed her eyes, put it to her lips as if she were playing a flute, and began swaying left and right to the inaudible music; it was a beautiful performance. At that point, I began walking a little bit faster in order to make the show on time, but I felt increasingly more tempted to stay outside a while longer to enjoy the music of nature. However, my legs disallowed me to make such a seemingly superior decision, so I kept walking.

A few minutes later, I saw Aldez driving past. She noticed that I was walking, so she pulled over to the side of the street. Her car was noticeably old, for the paint was peeling off and had dirt stained onto the sides; there was a sense of old-fashioned charm that made me appreciate its resilience and history.

She began to talk to me, but I forgot to listen. My attention was fixed upon the twilight; the pink and orange waltz together, creating an elegant art show upon earth’s canvas. A few stars became visible from underneath the sun’s blanket, and a I could hear the sound of children’s parent’s calling them inside for dinner, although a few remained reluctant to answer the calls. The air was still warm, but the breeze got a little colder. There was a faint sound of music playing in the background, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. Then, I glanced at Aldez and realize that she had been talking to me and I was completely zoned out. She honked her car’s horn and I snapped back into reality.

“Yeah, so that’s why I’m out and about, ya know?” Aldez finished and then looked at me.

“Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t listening to you at all,” I replied.

“Are you serious? I toldja you’re so awful,” Aldez stated aggressively. She took her glasses off and cleaned them using a cleaning kit she had in the cup holder. Then she asked, “Do you wanna ride with me?”

“Sure,” I replied and got into the car shortly after. I wanted to turn on the radio, but it was not working (or so I was told by Aldez).

“So whatcha been up to?” Aldez asked a few minutes later.

“Eh, just kind of relaxing,” I replied with feigned levelheadedness.

“Oh my God, Ethan! Just freakin’ talk to me! You’re always doin’ this and we’ve been friends for so long,” Aldez responded, clearly hurt by my lack of honestly.

“Don’t gotta get mad at me,” I retorted. I felt her subtle aggression pierce my heart. I continued, “I’m trying to be optimistic and you’re making it hard.”

“You’re so annoyin’. Like O.M.G.!” Aldez responded with incredible hostility. We approached a red light and Aldez started singing. Her voiced gently touched each note like honey dropping into white tea. I hummed softly along with her as if I were her accompaniment. As the light changed to green, we quietened our singing and simply listened to the alluring voices of the already-famous musicians. Shortly after, Aldez and I arrived at the museum. I was bathed in the lights of the building, yellow and inviting, and I looked at Aldez.

“Are you ready, E.?” She whispered.