1
“So. This is weird.”
The sound of my own voice surprises me in the silence of my apartment. My inside thoughts often become outside thoughts without my permission, but I don’t usually notice until someone responds to them. Thankfully I’ve never had anything embarrassing come out of my mouth with someone else there, so it’s not something I’ve ever actively worked to stop. Everyone’s a little quirky, and variety is the spice of life.
Dear Elijah,
Thank you for your hospitality.You should definitely get a restraining order against the ex who broke into your house (blame him for the damage to your chain lock). Also, I’ve commandeered possession of your house plants because you’re a bad plant dad. They would have died while you were gone.
From your summer house-sitter,
Romily Butcher
I didn’t hire a house-sitter.In fact, when I left to spend the summer abroad in Italy, I couldn’t find a single person willing to water my plants besides Stalker Steve, and he’s the reason everyone refused to help me out. He’s actually a stalker and scared all my friends away.
“Friends.”
I think a true friend wouldn’t have let him scare them off behind my back, but it’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t need houseplants or friends. Nothing else is missing, and actually, I have more food now than when I left, so that’s cool.
“Chirrup.”
“What the hell was that?”
I glance around my shockingly clean apartment, looking for the chirp that came from somewhere.
“Chirrup!”
“Ok, grabbing my broom now.”
I collect my little aluminum broom from the wall next to the fridge (someone hung it up on some hook-things that weren’t there before I left for Italy), and I slowly sneak into the living room, searching for the source of the chirp—don’t want to scare whatever it is.
“I’m not scared. You’re scared.”
Everything is basically where I left it, except that someone rearranged my school books into alphabetical order by title. (I think they might have added a few non-school books to my collection too.) I’d organized them by semester, but it’s fine. I can always rearrange them back to my preference.
“Chirrup!”
The chirp catches my attention, and I back away from my bookshelf as I catch sight of a—a—thing. It’s tiny with velvety rust-colored fur and huge orange eyes. Huge. Way over-sized. Cartoon big. I cannot over exaggerate how big these eyes are. The thing’s, uh, hands are smaller than its eyes. And it’s rubbingthem together evil villain style while eyeing me like I’m possibly on its menu. I wouldn’t blink twice if it suddenly started twirling a non-existent mustache.
A prehensile tail curls around one of the little tchotchkes on my bookshelf as it sort of sways on its hind, uh, hands…
“What do you call a chimp’s hands?” It’s like the creature has two sets of hands, and it’s threatening me with one set while standing on the other.
“Ok, uh, creature. Nice, um, thing…” I slowly back away from it, holding up my broom to deflect it from attacking me. That’s all I need; my doctor already thinks I’m insane. I do not want to have to explain getting mauled by a cute little monster.
“Chirrup!”
At least its voice isn’t creepy—that’s something.
“You’re kind of cute in a terrifying way.” I have zero filter between brain and mouth, in case that wasn’t super obvious.
Bang!
I scream at the sound of someone banging on my door. God,people!Why would anyone bang on someone else’s door without sending a text firstandgetting a reply?
“Elijah!”
“Go away!” I yell at the voice of Stalker Steve. “I regret ever going out with you!” And that’s the truth, though I have to remind myself of that because he’s pretty hot and I have a difficult time making good choices about men.
