A storm was brewing, I could tell by the dark, ominous clouds fast approaching me, propelled by the howling wind that had appeared out of nowhere. The sun was low in the sky, its brilliant, blinding light slowly fading beyond the horizon. The trees whistled behind me, their leaves and branches swaying and bending to the invisible tune played by the wind. The sticky warmth that my umbrella could not deter had sneaked away unnoticed. A sigh escaped my body, mingling with the howling wind as the knowledge of how my day had transpired settled in like a cold splash of water. I had once more dreamed my day away.
I stretched my body, tensing and relaxing muscles that had been tortured by a stillness that they were not quite used to. I sat up only to be assaulted visually by the breathtaking sight that unfolded right in front of me. It was as if nature had a change of heart right in the middle of ruining a perfect sunset. To my left, as far as the eye could see, were the looming clouds that promised relief in the form of chaos that would ultimately lead to oblivion. To my right was a bright and colorful display of majestic beauty, the sky doled out in gold, teal, and peach hues, a homage to a setting sun slowly sinking into the navy blue ocean. Despite the imminent storm, I held out, unwilling to leave this beautiful display of just how pointless yet breathtaking life could be.
The wind's screams quietened to a gentle hum, the dark clouds no longer looming, now covering the space above me. The sun disappeared below the horizon, and as the darkness rushed to fill the void left by light, I felt a crushing loneliness that dragged a tear out of me just as the first drop fell. I felt no inclination to remove myself from underneath the flimsy umbrella that could only stand firm in the sunshine. It creaked and threatened to fall while doing nothing to shield me from the raindrops that were driven sideways by the humming wind. Sitting there, rain pelting my skin while the wind numbed it, I found myself wishing my world would end. This terrible weather would make for a fitting goodbye.
I felt her before I saw her, an aura deeply grounding called out before her hands touched my shoulder. She, too, was dripping wet, the clothes stuck to her body as if trying to shield themselves from the rain, hair wildly covering her face. Even then, under the raging storm with the world screaming out its release, her eyes remained lifeless. The scar that ran from her eyebrow to her chin, an angry red in a sea of dark skin, complemented those dead eyes. Those eyes grounded me like nothing else in my life; they spoke of silent horrors that remained untold but still sent shivers down my spine. She said nothing, she couldn't even if she wanted to. Hers was a dark and silent world, and I often wished she could glimpse mine.
We both walked to the house, slowly as if dismissing the storm billowing around us. The trees, the sand, the roof, even the very sky seemed enraged, lashing out at everything, and yet there we were, slowly walking up to our house seemingly without a care in the world. As soon as we were inside, I was attacked by the warmth in the house and the mouthwatering aroma of the feast I knew she had prepared. My stomach grumbled in response; the day had slipped from me, and food had been the last thing on my mind. I quickly made my way upstairs, spurred on by the need to satiate my hunger. I couldn't help the release an ironic bark that should have been a laugh, even at rock bottom, one still had to eat.
I quickly changed into dry, warm clothes, and like a barreling truck, I caught my reflection in the mirror as I exited my closet. Even covered in expensive clothing, I still felt cheap like coated plastic. My slender frame and hollow face were not what startled me. It was my eyes, dead and cold. Maybe that was why she grounded me, her living hell, called out to mine, two pitiful women, warriors of a lost war, living with no purpose, surrounded by ghosts of what had been and what could have been.
I looked at my reflection, and absurd as it was, I couldn't help but wonder what she thought of me. She had seen the entirety of my life, in submerged pools, scraped plates, dirty windows, and glasses on the streets. I had looked into her blurry eyes, brimming with tears that day as my world was torn into, did she cry for me or did I for her? Both of us had been forced to go through hell, one a victim, the other a witness. Yet staring at her now, we were both hollow, which one had it worse, the observer or the casualty?
Sunshine was already at the table, dressed in her usual black clothes as if the very idea of color repulsed her. I, on the other had bright pink sweatpants and a matching jumper, a stark contrast to the nightgown and warm coat she had on. The first time she signed her name, I thought I had misread her hands, but when she repeated it, I burst out laughing. Everything down to her black manicured toes was akin to the abyss; there was a piece of her missing, and you could see it in her eyes. I was not one to judge. She wanted peace far away from people, and I needed a helper to care for me and my house and deal with the intricacies that was staying alive. We worked in a way that was frightfully cold and yet surprisingly functional.
The meal was delicious as always. We ate in silence, her food the only thing that could bring me physical satisfaction without the immediate need to douse myself in gasoline. This stranger, sitting across from me, was truly the only strand of humanity that tethered me to reality. Without her, I would simply float off into the abyss, an idea I was all too comfortable with. She finished her food in record time, loaded the dishwasher, and slinked back to her room with a dismissive wave. Without her stoic face, the room suddenly turned cold. I did not have the time to contemplate this change in temperature before the glasses of the window I was facing shattered in the same second a bullet whizzed past my face, forcing me to drop to the ground.
The raging storm propelled by the wind tore into the kitchen, causing utensils that had previously been still to join into the cacophony. He appeared then, from the living room naked save for the black boxers he wore, which would have had me panting were it any other time. He took one look at me crouched under the table, and something akin to relief flashed across his face for a second before the entire house was plunged into darkness. In one swift move, he slid from the door straight to where I was and shielded me with his body, frantically glancing around. Although I could not see his face, I knew that those dark brown eyes were alert, looking for a way for both of us to escape.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark room for a split second, but that was all he needed. He grabbed my hands, his fingers painfully digging into my flesh, a testament to his determination to not leave me behind, and painful as it was, I felt safe. In less than a minute, we had cleared the hallway he had dragged us into, and without asking, I knew where he was taking us, the safe room. We turned a corner only to be met by one of the armed intruders, and while I hesitated, he dragged me on, not missing a beat. The intruder pulled his trigger, but barely missed us, and before he got another shot, we were already on him. He let go of my hand long enough to disarm him, using his momentum to his advantage. He then brought the gun down on the masked face with enough force that a thud could be heard above the chaos that was now our home.
Without hesitation, his hands were on me, and we were on the run again. I was pretty much defenseless in his world, I knew that much. If left to my own devices, I would have long died, I was on the verge of death when he first met me many years ago. The only way I had learned to survive was to stick by his side and do exactly as he said. Anyone else would have taken advantage of my vulnerability, but not him. He had proven true and kept me safe when I was nothing but a burden to him. We finally reached the door leading to the basement that had been reinforced and turned into a panic room. Once in there, we would be safe enough to come up with an attack plan. I wasted no time scanning my eyes and fingerprints, and finally, after the longest half a minute, I heard the telltale click as the door gave way. That thirty-second cost us as men heralded by bullets came into view.
I heard him grunt; the only indication he gave was that he had been hit. His body shielded mine as he pushed me into the room while closing the door, all in a swift move. The moment the door clicked, he slid down to the floor in the now deathly silent room. The room remained dark for a second longer before the light automatically came on. The blood oozing from my now unconscious companion was the first thing I noted, and I wasted no time in tending to him. I crouched down to his level and hoisted his limp and heavy hands to my shoulder, the coppery metallic smell of blood rushing into my nose. I gave it all I had, carrying him as fast as I could without risking injuring him any further, to the hospital bed that was set up in one corner of the room. We had been down this road far too often for me to be clueless about what I was meant to do.
Cold, clammy hands resting on my neck crashed me back to reality. I found myself staring at Sunshine's worried eyes. I looked down at my half-eaten meal and smiled gently at her, which she took as her cue to go, leaving me hating her a little in that moment. I stood from the chair, no longer interested in the now cold meal. After clearing the table and plate, I glanced at the still kitchen and silently wished it would be torn apart by the storm that raged outside.