RE: Forgive Me
04-25-2016, 12:33 AM
> Wake up Vince and ask what the heck
I put the object in my pocket and find my way back inside. I do my best to contain my questions and emotions. My mother is not in the room. A fortunate event; I don't want to deal with her right now. I walk towards Vince and grab him by his clothes, shaking him around.
"Vince!"
He opens his eyes and blinks against the light. I let go. He exhales and closes his eyes again.
"Cheryl..."
"Vince, what the heck?"
"What the heck?"
"What the heck did you send to Francine?"
"What the heck did I send to Francine?"
"Yes!"
"Nothing."
"What. But she... Then who sent her this?"
Vince opens his eyes once more and looks at the device in my hand. He frowns and shakes his head before carefully getting up into a sitting position.
"She gave that to you?"
"No! I mean, she forgot it? Sort of?"
I struggle to find words to describe the concept of simply vanishing into thin air, as relating to object ownership.
"She was here, then."
"She came to see you."
"Wait, how long have I been here?! Days?"
"An hour at most."
"Cheryl, what the heck?"
"What the heck?"
"How the heck did she know?"
"I don't know. She left before she could explain it to me."
"She left again? Why?"
"I don't know. All she told me before leaving was that your father was..."
"What the heck?"
"Indeed. I... My condolences."
Suddenly the awkward exchange grinds to a halt. I sit down next to Vince as he lets his face sink into his hands and wrap my arm around him.
"T-thank you."
As I sit on the sofa with Vince, I start to feel sleepy. It's been a long day and I'm not entirely sure how well I am taking all of this mentally. Time starts to lose meaning, and my eyelids slowly close. When they do, the darkness takes me away.
I roll out of bed with a headache. It's Sunday so I don't mind, but damn if it hasn't soured my mood. I see that there are a couple of messages waiting for me on the computer, but first I open the blinds. The sunlight is enough to see by, despite coming from the wrong end of the building.
After splashing some water on my face and changing into my normal clothes, I sit down behind my computer. Vince and Cheryl have messaged me.
That reminds me.
I look around. The clockwork device is gone from my room. I don't see it anywhere. Was it stolen? Is that what happened last night? Is that why I have a headache?
I suddenly feel stressed out. I quickly open my messenger and read Cheryl's message.
«What the heck, Francine?»
«What the heck what?»
«How did you know about Vince?»
«What? You're not making any sense. I don't know anything about Vince.»
«Don't you remember what transpired last night?»
«You found Vince on your doorstep?»
«...»
«Forget I asked. I don't even know what's going on myself.»
«Long story short, you showed up, gave me your device, and went off again.»
«What the heck?»
«That wasn't me.»
«But I recognised you.»
«That wasn't me.»
«My head hurts.»
«You're not the only one.»
«No, I didn't send anything.»
«Oh. Then I have absolutely no clue how I ended up with it.»
«Also, I'm glad Cheryl found you. You could have gotten hypothermia out there.»
«But...»
«You followed me, right.»
«Oh god, please ask Cheryl. I already explained to her that I didn't leave the house last night.»
I stand up and pace back to the bathroom to stare myself in the face, just to make sure I'm not crazy. What the heck?
I put the object in my pocket and find my way back inside. I do my best to contain my questions and emotions. My mother is not in the room. A fortunate event; I don't want to deal with her right now. I walk towards Vince and grab him by his clothes, shaking him around.
"Vince!"
He opens his eyes and blinks against the light. I let go. He exhales and closes his eyes again.
"Cheryl..."
"Vince, what the heck?"
"What the heck?"
"What the heck did you send to Francine?"
"What the heck did I send to Francine?"
"Yes!"
"Nothing."
"What. But she... Then who sent her this?"
Vince opens his eyes once more and looks at the device in my hand. He frowns and shakes his head before carefully getting up into a sitting position.
"She gave that to you?"
"No! I mean, she forgot it? Sort of?"
I struggle to find words to describe the concept of simply vanishing into thin air, as relating to object ownership.
"She was here, then."
"She came to see you."
"Wait, how long have I been here?! Days?"
"An hour at most."
"Cheryl, what the heck?"
"What the heck?"
"How the heck did she know?"
"I don't know. She left before she could explain it to me."
"She left again? Why?"
"I don't know. All she told me before leaving was that your father was..."
"What the heck?"
"Indeed. I... My condolences."
Suddenly the awkward exchange grinds to a halt. I sit down next to Vince as he lets his face sink into his hands and wrap my arm around him.
"T-thank you."
As I sit on the sofa with Vince, I start to feel sleepy. It's been a long day and I'm not entirely sure how well I am taking all of this mentally. Time starts to lose meaning, and my eyelids slowly close. When they do, the darkness takes me away.
Day 2.
I roll out of bed with a headache. It's Sunday so I don't mind, but damn if it hasn't soured my mood. I see that there are a couple of messages waiting for me on the computer, but first I open the blinds. The sunlight is enough to see by, despite coming from the wrong end of the building.
After splashing some water on my face and changing into my normal clothes, I sit down behind my computer. Vince and Cheryl have messaged me.
That reminds me.
I look around. The clockwork device is gone from my room. I don't see it anywhere. Was it stolen? Is that what happened last night? Is that why I have a headache?
I suddenly feel stressed out. I quickly open my messenger and read Cheryl's message.
«What the heck, Francine?»
«What the heck what?»
«How did you know about Vince?»
«What? You're not making any sense. I don't know anything about Vince.»
«Don't you remember what transpired last night?»
«You found Vince on your doorstep?»
«...»
«Forget I asked. I don't even know what's going on myself.»
«Long story short, you showed up, gave me your device, and went off again.»
«What the heck?»
«That wasn't me.»
«But I recognised you.»
«That wasn't me.»
«My head hurts.»
«You're not the only one.»
«No, I didn't send anything.»
«Oh. Then I have absolutely no clue how I ended up with it.»
«Also, I'm glad Cheryl found you. You could have gotten hypothermia out there.»
«But...»
«You followed me, right.»
«Oh god, please ask Cheryl. I already explained to her that I didn't leave the house last night.»
I stand up and pace back to the bathroom to stare myself in the face, just to make sure I'm not crazy. What the heck?