Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ In My Heart and In My Mind ❯ Chapter 4
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Shinigami_Shimai 
Miscellaneous: Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Mystery | Type: Shoujo-ai | Uploaded On: 08.29.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.2K | Visits: 269 | Status: Completed
Miscellaneous: Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Mystery | Type: Shoujo-ai | Uploaded On: 08.29.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.2K | Visits: 269 | Status: Completed
In My Heart and In My Mind
By Kathryn K. Williams 2006
Chapter Four
“Mom, I’m home!” Tristan called out as she entered the dark living room of her small one and a half floor house, “Sam’s with me!” She announced, kicking her shoes off into the open closet next to the front door.
A woman in her mid thirties with curly blonde hair stepped out of the lit kitchen with an autumn themed dishtowel in her hands, “Samantha, it is good to see you.” The woman stated, genuinely happy to see her daughter’s friend, “Are you staying over for supper?” She inquired with an inviting smile that made Sam smile in return.
Samantha felt a faint flush of embarrassment cross her face as she added her shoes to the closet. She hated the fact that she needed a place to hide from her family and hoped that her shame was well concealed by the gloom of the living room, “Could I please, Diana?” She nervously inquired. Even though she had stayed over night at Tristan’s place many times over the years, and had been told on numerous times to consider her friend’s mother as her own, she still felt as if she was a burden on Tristan’s mother. Even such a simple request as eating over made a pit of guilt rise in Samantha’s stomach that she had to continuously fight to keep at bay, and so the most she could muster was using the woman’s first name.
“Sure thing.” Tristan’s mother remarked cheerfully, “I was about to start cooking, but seeing as your birthday is tomorrow how about I order some pizza?” She inquired as she moved towards the phone, not really awaiting an answer.
“YES!!” Tristan agreed enthusiastically, “Thanks Mom!” She gave her mother a quick hug.
“What do you have there?” Tristan’s mother asked as she eyed the rainbow plastic bag in the girl’s hand.
Tristan backed up from her mother and nervously held the bag behind her back, “It’s a gift for Samantha.” She remarked, uncertain of her mother’s reaction to the toys.
The woman glanced between the two girls, “Tristan, did you ask for Samantha to pick out her gift again?” She inquired with a hint of disapproval.
Tristan rubbed the back of her neck, “I didn’t know what to get her.” Tristan protested, “I wanted it to be something she really wanted. You know how hard it is to choose something for her.”
Tristan’s mother shook her head in disbelief, “Alright,” She let out a sigh of defeat, “So what did you get her?”
“You won’t believe these things.” Tristan stated excitedly as she dug through the bag, “They are so neat and they come with this cool computer organizer and everything.” She explained as she pulled out Samantha’s toad and held it out to her mother.
The woman took the toy suspiciously and scanned the packaging, “Are you sure this is what you wanted Samantha?” She asked the girl warily.
“Yeah...” Samantha responded shyly, “Lisa had one at school and she let me try it... They are kind of cool... I guess....” She said with a shrug.
Tristan’s mother eyed her daughter carefully, “Let me guess. You bought one for yourself too, am I right?” She inquired knowingly.
Tristan flushed, produced a second toy from the bag and held it out to her mother.
Again the woman shook her head at her daughter, “I think it is cute that the two of you like the same things, but sometimes I wonder about you Tristan.” She stated with a sigh, “Why don’t you two go downstairs while I order pizza, alright?” She instructed as she picked up the phone off the wall where is hung and began to dial.
“Thanks mom!!” Tristan hurried off. In the corner of the kitchen were two sets of stairs, one leading up and another down to the small subbasement below, which was the direction the girls headed. Tristan’s father had turned the room into a rec-room for himself before Tristan had been born, however recently Tristan’s mother had it converted into a space for her Tristan and her friends. It was a small L-shaped room with several small rectangular windows near the ceiling that never let in much light and always kept the room in a permanent state of dusk. Trish flipped on a small lamp that sat upon a small table next to old couch that was well worn in and Sam recalled many long weekend days lounging upon its soft surface. A wobbly coffee table took up the centre of the room, covered in several teen magazines, while small television and a stereo filled up a small entertainment unit on the far wall. Around the corner of the room were three doors; one to Tristan’s bedroom, another to the laundry room and the last was a back door that led to the back yard. On more then one occasion Samantha had ventured to her friend’s home in the late hours of the night, tossing pebbles at Trish’s window in hopes that she would awaken. She was glad when Tristan moved to the basement because they were less likely to disturb Tristan’s mother when using the back door. On Sam’s fourteenth birthday Trish gave her a key to the back so she would have a place to sleep if she needed it. That was the greatest gift she could have ever be given and she remembered crying in her friend’s arms on that night.
Samantha flopped down on the couch, bouncing slightly and causing the springs to protest ever so, and she stretched out, “Your mother is really cool.” She stated with a yawn as the days events began to take a toll on her body.
Tristan shook her head in disagreement, “She’s weird.” She remarked, “I think she is still trying to make up for messing things up with dad.”
“At least your mother got rid of your father while you were still young.” Samantha stated dismally, “You didn’t have to suffer with their arguing any more.”
Tristan fell silent as she always did when her father was mentioned. She slowly moved around the coffee table, setting the toys atop the pile of magazines, and sat at the far end of the couch.
Sam wished she knew how to help the girl open up more but decided to let the issue drop. Instead she lifted her legs to rest her feet lightly against the girl’s lap and Tristan set a hand upon one of Sam’s feet. Samantha enjoyed the comforting warmth of her friend’s hand upon her skin as she tried to think of something to say. She could feel Tristan’s thumb trace circles around her ankle and Samantha closed her eyes as she savoured the pleasant feeling when Tristan’s mother’s voice came drifting down the stairs.
“Pizza will be here in forty-five minutes girls.” Tristan’s mother called out.
“Alright.” Tristan yelled back, “Thanks mom.” She glanced down at Samantha then quickly retracted her hand, almost as if she suddenly became aware of the fact that her hand was on her friend’s foot.
A strange silence filled the room as Tristan nervously fiddled with her fingers and the quietness was stated to make Samantha feel uneasy. Samantha hated this uncomfortable stillness and noted that it had been happening more and more over the last year. She was afraid that one of these days it would burst and that would be the end of their friendship. She let her head roll over to stare at the two toys lying upon the coffee table.
Something about these things were really creeping her out and she was not even sure why she wanted one. They looked cute and were indeed interest, but there was something about them that really bothered her. She could not even understand what compelled her to want the thing and the more she stared at those creatures the more she wished that she had refused to get them. She could almost feel them staring at her from beyond their plastic casing and it made her feel troublesome.
Tristan glanced at Sam then to the toys and back again, “You regretting getting those?” She inquired as if she read her friend’s mind.
Samantha was startled by her friend’s words, “N... no...” She stammered then grabbed the back of the couch to pull herself into a seated position, tucked her legs under herself, “I just didn’t want to open mine until you opened yours first.” She lied and suddenly wished she had kept her mouth shut. She did not want to open their packages. She got a bad feeling that when they did something horrible would happen, but she did not want to tell Tristan that. She might have been her best friend, and the person she told almost everything, however this was one thing that she was sure her friend would laugh at her over so she kept her mouth shut and just stared at the toys.
Tristan reach out for the toys, “How about we open them together?” She inquired handing the toad to her friend.
“Alright.” Samantha felt a little less tense that Tristan had made the suggestion. There was something special about them opening the toys at the same time, something they used to do on Christmas when they were children. She took the toad from Trish’s hands and glanced upon its face. Unlike Lisa’s, this one did not have a shocked expression. It looked more melancholy and she could almost feel the sadness emitting from the toy through its clear prison.
Tristan took no time to remove her bunny from it’s packaging and Sam glanced up to see Tristan turn her toy over in her hands, staring at it disappointedly, “The way that girl at the store was going on I was almost expecting it to come to life the moment I opened the package.” She stated with a slight chuckle.
Samantha joined in on the laughter, however her laughter held an edge of nervousness. Reluctantly, Sam began to remove her critter’s packaging to find it came free with little difficulty and the creature popped out of it’s case with ease, flopping onto her lap. She could feel odd warmth from the spot where the creature now lay, not like the sensation she got from her friend’s hands. This was almost hot, as if whatever was within its plush skin could burn you if you cut it open. She imagined hot blood flowing steadily under that fuzzy exterior and a small heart pumping away. She was almost afraid to pick it up for fear that it might actually move. She saw a small card drift out of the box, and caught it before it fell off the couch. “It says here we just need to take out the psychic calculator from the pouch in its chest and pull the tab out of the back of the device,” She read as she skimmed the words on the card, “then answer its question before it will work.”
“Sounds simple enough.” Tristan stated and without the slightest hesitation she pushed her fingers into her rabbit’s chest causing Samantha to shudder in disgust at the sight. Tristan retrieved a soft pink device with white heart shaped buttons and turned it over to find a small white, heart-shaped, tab sticking out of the back. The moment she pulled the tab free the device came to life with a few beeps and other cute sounds. She turned the device over and read the message, “Hello, I am Floppy. What is your name?” Tristan read aloud and laughed, “Neat!” She exclaimed and began to push the buttons to spell out her name.
Courage filled Samantha as she noted that Tristan’s pet did not lunge for her friend’s throat. She cautiously pulled open the toad’s belly to find a dark green device within. Taking a deep breath she stuck her fingers into the slit, almost expecting to feel organs moving about. Not wanting to keep her fingers in the creature to long she quickly retrieved the device. It was deep green and had light green leaves for buttons and a leaf shaped display area. She turned it over to find a small green leaf sticking out of the back and pulled it out to hear the same series of beeps and music. When she turned the device back around and proceeded to read the message that blinked across the screen, “Hi, I’m Toader! Nice to meet you, what is your name?” The second line held a blinking leaf shaped cursor that awaited Samantha’s answer. She glanced up from the toy at Tristan with a puzzled look upon her face, “They were not very clever with the names, were they?” She noted with a hint of distaste.
Tristan shrugged, “I think Floppy suits mine.” She remarked as she continued to answer the thing questions.
Samantha pressed the buttons on her toy to enter her name, S-A-M and then hit enter. The screen blinked for a moment then a new message appeared.
“What is your full name?” It inquired.
Samantha blinked at the screen then turned to her friend, “Hey, Trish? Did you enter your full name?” She inquired nervously.
“I tried Trish first.” Tristan replied with a frown, “But it doesn’t seem to like short forms.” She stated, mystified by her new toy.
Samantha turned back to the device and entered her full name, next it asked for her birthday. She punched in the month of September and the twenty-eighth, and then entered and the thing came to life in her hands causing her to jump ever so slightly. Suddenly it began to play Happy Birthday in off toned beeps.
“What did you do?” Tristan inquired anxiously.
Samantha shrugged, “I just told it my birthday.” She turned the thing over in her hands then looked at the VCR clock to see it was only five o’clock, “It didn’t even ask me for the current date or anything.”
“Maybe it was programmed ahead of time.” Tristan suggested with a shrug.
“Maybe...” Samantha seemed unsure about that answer. She did not get to puzzle over it for long before the devise started beeping and asking more questions. She glanced at the screen to see more words crossing the display, “What is your favourite colour?” She read out loud, “Red, of course.” She mumbled, embarrassed to find herself talking to the device as if it would understand her. She glanced up to see Tristan was to busy answering her toy’s questions to notice Samantha’s comments and let out a sigh of relief. She returned to her device and entered her answer.
The two girls silently answered the multitude of questions the toy had for them. It asked everything from the simplest of details, such as their favourite animal, to strange questions, such as what they eat that morning. Before they knew it the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of the pizza delivery person.
“Pizza is here girls!” Tristan’s mother called out, startling the girl’s out of the spell the toy had over them.
Tristan set her toy down and stretched, “That thing asks a lot of questions. I can’t believe I just got quizzed on my life by a toy” She remarked with a chuckle then glanced over at her friend, “You finished answering your questions?” She inquired as she got to her feet.
Samantha punched in a few more letters, “Almost, I think.” She remarked, slightly mesmerized by the barrage of questions, “Go get some pizza. I’ll be right up.” She suggested, not taking her eyes off the device before her.
“‘Kay!” Tristan started towards the stairs then stopped and glanced back at her friend with concern in her eyes, “You sure you’ll be only a moment?” She inquired worriedly.
Samantha simply nodded.
Tristan hastily climbed the stairs to the kitchen, occasionally taking a glimpse down the stairs at her friend as she sat hunched over her new toy.
Samantha did not see the uneasy look upon her friend’s face before the girl turned and ran up the stairs. She busily filled out the finally question and hit enter. “Thank you Samantha. Is there anything you would like to ask me before you go eat?” It inquired.
She stared at the device then at the stairs. How did it possible know that she was about to leave it to eat? Maybe she would test the thing before leaving it. A question formed in her mind. Something she always wondered since she was very little. A question that she was sure this small toy would not be able to answer, “Is there someone who loves me?” She asked then hit the enter key, certain that there was no way it would have an answer for her.
The screen blinked for a few second and suddenly it filled with little hearts, “She awaits you upstairs.” It simply stated.
Samantha could feel her hands begin to tremble and her heart leap into her throat, making it hard to breath. How could it know that she was downstairs? Her eyes honed on the first word, ‘She’, How did it even know that there was a girl upstairs? One of the many questions the device had asked was Samantha’s gender and she told it female so why would it even suggest that a girl was in love with her? She swallowed hard as her eyes read and reread the message over and over again.
“Samantha, you coming?” Tristan called out from the kitchen.
“Yeah!” She found the off switch and flicked it, watching the screen turn blank, then shakily set the toy down on the coffee table next to its plushie skin. There was no way this toy could know who loved her. It was not possible and the thought that Tristan could be that person made her laugh. She had known the girl for years and there was no way Tristan felt love for her. Maybe sisterly love, but not real love.
She decided to forget about it and headed upstairs for some pizza. Yet the thought that someone could actually love her had already planted a seed within Samantha’s chest and she could feel it’s roots wrapping around her heart with every step she took. An ache began to build up inside of her as she approached the stairs. Her hand set upon the railing and she gazed up at the kitchen above, trying to will her legs to move, to climb those stairs. The mere thought of eating next to Tristan racked at her heart and she found she could not face Tristan if her feelings were true.
Sam quickly turned back to the toy; it’s black eyes staring at her from its spot on the coffee table. She suddenly broke from the stairs and scooped up the device into her hands. Trembling as she fumbled with the switch and watched as words began to scroll across the screen.
“Hello, Sam.” It said in pixelized letters, “Is there something you wish to ask me?”
‘SAM!!’ Samantha’s mind raced. First the thing asked for her full name and now it was using her nick. What was with this thing? Shakily she punched in a new question. She needed to know if Tristan really did love her and she needed to know now, “Is Trish the one who loves me?” She typed, having to correct a typo or two as she did because her hand shook so much, then anxiously hit the enter key.
The screen blinked again and its answer appeared before Samantha’s eyes, “Of course.” It stated simply.
Samantha let the device drop to the coffee table in disbelief. How could Tristan love her? There was no possible way. She scratched her head as she tried to piece together the events of her years with Tristan. Was there ever a time that Tristan showed signs that she could be in love with Samantha? She milled over the question and yet her mind would not give her the answer she wanted, then she remembered the way Tristan would pet her foot when she laid on the couch and the way she held her tight on those nights that she cried. Was it truly possible that her best friend was in love with her? Her head began to hurt the more she tried to think of what to do. Finally she grabbed the device and it’s plush skin, and then stuffed the gadget into her back pocket as she dashed up the stairs to the front door.
“Sam?” Tristan entered the living room and stared at Samantha in confusion, “Is there something wrong?” She anxiously asked.
Samantha shook her head in frustration, “I... don’t know.” She muttered as she pulled on her shoes, “I think I’m just... worried.” She stated, unsure of what to say.
“About your mom?” Tristan inquired, restlessly
‘No, about you.” She wanted to yell, but took a deep breath and let it out, “Yeah... Dad doesn’t always do as he is told and he might have forgotten to write the message down.” She lied, “Mom could be having a fit right now for all I know.” She remarked, hoping her friend would believe her fib.
Tristan’s mother entered from the dinning room at the end of the room, “Would you like me to call your place and see if everything is alright?” She asked with concern in her eyes.
Samantha gave the woman a nervous smile. She wished her mother was as concerned for her well being as Tristan’s, “That’s okay.” She replied then stepped towards the door, “Maybe I should get back home before she really does worry.”
Tristan let out a depressed moan, “I was hoping that you could stay overnight and then we could have two sleepovers in a row.”
Samantha considered giving the girl a hug to calm her worried then stopped herself. She stepped back from her friend and scanned the girl’s features, such a soft a cute face surrounded by that golden hair. Sam had dreamed on many occasions that they really were sisters and now the thought of this girl loving her was frightening Sam. She knew nothing about love or relationships. She had gone to one dance with a boy back in Junior High and nothing else. She would rather go to the movies with Tristan then go out with anyone else. Did the device somehow know this? Maybe it was trying to tell her that she had been leading Tristan along. The very thought of which made her tremble in fear. She suddenly turned away from her friend, “I should go.” She mumbled as she opened the front door.
Tristan quickly picked up her shoes and began to put them on, “I’ll come with you.” She stated anxiously.
Samantha felt herself freeze at the very suggestion, “N... no...” She stammered as she felt her finger grip the door knob tightly, “I... I can handle my mom. I don’t want her yelling at you too.” She remarked then pushed open the screen door; “I’ll talk to you later.” She was greeted by a gust of cool autumn air that felt good upon her skin. The sensation sent a shiver through her body and across her skull in such a way that it comforted her in a strange way and made her think of Beth’s comment about her being a wind spirit. She quickly discarded the through and turned back to her friend.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Tristan suggested with a smile that Samantha could tell was forced.
Samantha picked up her backpack from next to the door and stuffed plushie’s skin into one of the many pockets; “I’ll see you then.” Without awaiting an answer she let the screen slam behind her and ran out into the cool night. As she jumped onto her bike she could see Tristan standing on the porch watching her. Sam was almost certain she could see her friend rubbing tears from her eyes but refused to believe it. She did not want to believe any of it.
Samantha pedalled with all her might; the evening air roaring passed her ears, biting at the flesh of her cheeks and hand. She ignored the sensation as she sped down the back paths that twisted through her neighbourhood at an increasing pace. So much had happened that day that her mind felt broken. It kept jumping over moments in her life with Tristan and would not leave her alone. The more she tried to force Tristan out of her mind the more the images of the girl persisted. She pushed down on the pedal and allowed the bike to speed up. She jumped off the path and onto the street, nearly being hit by a car. She did not hear the wail of the car’s horn as she hopped the bike back up onto the sidewalk. She continued to jump on and off the curb, racing between parked cars in an attempt to shake the worries from her mind. Usually a good ride on her bike would rattle her woes loose, however this time they stuck fast and she found that no matter how much she pushed herself it didn’t seem to help.
Within moments she arrived at her home and wished there was another block or two of road to ride along. She did not want to be here any more then she wanted to run away from Tristan. Her eyes scanned the streets in search of some place to curl up and hide. She forced herself to not crawl under a rock and allowed the bike coast up her driveway, parking it beside the house. Her heart was pounding out of control and she felt like she could ride forever, but she was afraid that if she allowed it herself to continue her legs would carry her to the next town where she would truly have no one. She decided to leave the bike for now and just go hide in her room.
As she approached the front door she realized that maybe coming home was not such the greatest idea. Right away she could hear the arguing of her parents from beyond the house’s thick walls and regretted putting the bike down. It would seem that no matter where she went she would always be running from something. Her hands hurt from the cold air and she knew she could not stay outside for much longer. She settled on heading straight up to her room to grab a thicker sweater, her jacket and glove then go out for a longer bike ride. She set her hand on the doorknob when a serge of a raw heat shocked her hand and she heard the device in her pocket suddenly spring to life. She let go of the knob and reached for the toy to find the devise was blinking wildly and vibrating in her hands. She looked at the screen to see on word repeated across its surface, “RUN!!!” It screamed at the girl.
The door abruptly opened at that moment and Samantha glanced up to see her father staring at her in stunned shock, his head a mess of curls that reminded Samantha of whom to blame for her own hair’s unrulingness. A pair of thick lenses sat crooked upon his red sweat covered face while a pair of beady brown eyes stared out at her through the glare of the street lamps created. Even still she could see the fear and bewilderment in those eyes and noticed there were small cuts upon his cheek and brow. He turned away from his daughter to glance over his shoulder and for the first time Samantha saw her mother, her face twisted in anger as she barrelled around the corner from the living room. Her eyes were wild and wisps of light blond hair hung in her face, obscuring part of the snarl that crossed her lips. In her hands she held a large crystal vase, spilling flowers and water across the linoleum that covered the hall floor.
“Get out of here and never come back!” Her mother screech as she flung a glass vase at the man. Her father quickly ducked as the vase tumbled through the air, over him. Sam had no time to think, her mind frozen by the scene she saw before her. No time to move as the vase collided with her head, shattering into hundreds of pieces, sending the small girl sprawling onto the grass lawn below the patio. The last thing Samantha recalled was the sound of her mother’s worried voice as her blurry image hovered over her and then everything went black.
‘Happy Birthday Sam.’ She thought to herself as she felt a thick darkness encircle her mind, ‘Happy Birthday to you.’
*****
To be Continued . . .
*****
Note: Characters and ideas in this story are a copyright of Kathryn K Williams.
If you wish to view art from this series please visit my deviant arts site at: http://shinigami-shimai.deviantart.com/
For more of my stories visit my deviant hearts site at: http://www.devianthearts.com/viewuser.php?uid=159
Also if you spot any typos or other errors please contact me at katwilliams @ rogers.com
By Kathryn K. Williams 2006
Chapter Four
“Mom, I’m home!” Tristan called out as she entered the dark living room of her small one and a half floor house, “Sam’s with me!” She announced, kicking her shoes off into the open closet next to the front door.
A woman in her mid thirties with curly blonde hair stepped out of the lit kitchen with an autumn themed dishtowel in her hands, “Samantha, it is good to see you.” The woman stated, genuinely happy to see her daughter’s friend, “Are you staying over for supper?” She inquired with an inviting smile that made Sam smile in return.
Samantha felt a faint flush of embarrassment cross her face as she added her shoes to the closet. She hated the fact that she needed a place to hide from her family and hoped that her shame was well concealed by the gloom of the living room, “Could I please, Diana?” She nervously inquired. Even though she had stayed over night at Tristan’s place many times over the years, and had been told on numerous times to consider her friend’s mother as her own, she still felt as if she was a burden on Tristan’s mother. Even such a simple request as eating over made a pit of guilt rise in Samantha’s stomach that she had to continuously fight to keep at bay, and so the most she could muster was using the woman’s first name.
“Sure thing.” Tristan’s mother remarked cheerfully, “I was about to start cooking, but seeing as your birthday is tomorrow how about I order some pizza?” She inquired as she moved towards the phone, not really awaiting an answer.
“YES!!” Tristan agreed enthusiastically, “Thanks Mom!” She gave her mother a quick hug.
“What do you have there?” Tristan’s mother asked as she eyed the rainbow plastic bag in the girl’s hand.
Tristan backed up from her mother and nervously held the bag behind her back, “It’s a gift for Samantha.” She remarked, uncertain of her mother’s reaction to the toys.
The woman glanced between the two girls, “Tristan, did you ask for Samantha to pick out her gift again?” She inquired with a hint of disapproval.
Tristan rubbed the back of her neck, “I didn’t know what to get her.” Tristan protested, “I wanted it to be something she really wanted. You know how hard it is to choose something for her.”
Tristan’s mother shook her head in disbelief, “Alright,” She let out a sigh of defeat, “So what did you get her?”
“You won’t believe these things.” Tristan stated excitedly as she dug through the bag, “They are so neat and they come with this cool computer organizer and everything.” She explained as she pulled out Samantha’s toad and held it out to her mother.
The woman took the toy suspiciously and scanned the packaging, “Are you sure this is what you wanted Samantha?” She asked the girl warily.
“Yeah...” Samantha responded shyly, “Lisa had one at school and she let me try it... They are kind of cool... I guess....” She said with a shrug.
Tristan’s mother eyed her daughter carefully, “Let me guess. You bought one for yourself too, am I right?” She inquired knowingly.
Tristan flushed, produced a second toy from the bag and held it out to her mother.
Again the woman shook her head at her daughter, “I think it is cute that the two of you like the same things, but sometimes I wonder about you Tristan.” She stated with a sigh, “Why don’t you two go downstairs while I order pizza, alright?” She instructed as she picked up the phone off the wall where is hung and began to dial.
“Thanks mom!!” Tristan hurried off. In the corner of the kitchen were two sets of stairs, one leading up and another down to the small subbasement below, which was the direction the girls headed. Tristan’s father had turned the room into a rec-room for himself before Tristan had been born, however recently Tristan’s mother had it converted into a space for her Tristan and her friends. It was a small L-shaped room with several small rectangular windows near the ceiling that never let in much light and always kept the room in a permanent state of dusk. Trish flipped on a small lamp that sat upon a small table next to old couch that was well worn in and Sam recalled many long weekend days lounging upon its soft surface. A wobbly coffee table took up the centre of the room, covered in several teen magazines, while small television and a stereo filled up a small entertainment unit on the far wall. Around the corner of the room were three doors; one to Tristan’s bedroom, another to the laundry room and the last was a back door that led to the back yard. On more then one occasion Samantha had ventured to her friend’s home in the late hours of the night, tossing pebbles at Trish’s window in hopes that she would awaken. She was glad when Tristan moved to the basement because they were less likely to disturb Tristan’s mother when using the back door. On Sam’s fourteenth birthday Trish gave her a key to the back so she would have a place to sleep if she needed it. That was the greatest gift she could have ever be given and she remembered crying in her friend’s arms on that night.
Samantha flopped down on the couch, bouncing slightly and causing the springs to protest ever so, and she stretched out, “Your mother is really cool.” She stated with a yawn as the days events began to take a toll on her body.
Tristan shook her head in disagreement, “She’s weird.” She remarked, “I think she is still trying to make up for messing things up with dad.”
“At least your mother got rid of your father while you were still young.” Samantha stated dismally, “You didn’t have to suffer with their arguing any more.”
Tristan fell silent as she always did when her father was mentioned. She slowly moved around the coffee table, setting the toys atop the pile of magazines, and sat at the far end of the couch.
Sam wished she knew how to help the girl open up more but decided to let the issue drop. Instead she lifted her legs to rest her feet lightly against the girl’s lap and Tristan set a hand upon one of Sam’s feet. Samantha enjoyed the comforting warmth of her friend’s hand upon her skin as she tried to think of something to say. She could feel Tristan’s thumb trace circles around her ankle and Samantha closed her eyes as she savoured the pleasant feeling when Tristan’s mother’s voice came drifting down the stairs.
“Pizza will be here in forty-five minutes girls.” Tristan’s mother called out.
“Alright.” Tristan yelled back, “Thanks mom.” She glanced down at Samantha then quickly retracted her hand, almost as if she suddenly became aware of the fact that her hand was on her friend’s foot.
A strange silence filled the room as Tristan nervously fiddled with her fingers and the quietness was stated to make Samantha feel uneasy. Samantha hated this uncomfortable stillness and noted that it had been happening more and more over the last year. She was afraid that one of these days it would burst and that would be the end of their friendship. She let her head roll over to stare at the two toys lying upon the coffee table.
Something about these things were really creeping her out and she was not even sure why she wanted one. They looked cute and were indeed interest, but there was something about them that really bothered her. She could not even understand what compelled her to want the thing and the more she stared at those creatures the more she wished that she had refused to get them. She could almost feel them staring at her from beyond their plastic casing and it made her feel troublesome.
Tristan glanced at Sam then to the toys and back again, “You regretting getting those?” She inquired as if she read her friend’s mind.
Samantha was startled by her friend’s words, “N... no...” She stammered then grabbed the back of the couch to pull herself into a seated position, tucked her legs under herself, “I just didn’t want to open mine until you opened yours first.” She lied and suddenly wished she had kept her mouth shut. She did not want to open their packages. She got a bad feeling that when they did something horrible would happen, but she did not want to tell Tristan that. She might have been her best friend, and the person she told almost everything, however this was one thing that she was sure her friend would laugh at her over so she kept her mouth shut and just stared at the toys.
Tristan reach out for the toys, “How about we open them together?” She inquired handing the toad to her friend.
“Alright.” Samantha felt a little less tense that Tristan had made the suggestion. There was something special about them opening the toys at the same time, something they used to do on Christmas when they were children. She took the toad from Trish’s hands and glanced upon its face. Unlike Lisa’s, this one did not have a shocked expression. It looked more melancholy and she could almost feel the sadness emitting from the toy through its clear prison.
Tristan took no time to remove her bunny from it’s packaging and Sam glanced up to see Tristan turn her toy over in her hands, staring at it disappointedly, “The way that girl at the store was going on I was almost expecting it to come to life the moment I opened the package.” She stated with a slight chuckle.
Samantha joined in on the laughter, however her laughter held an edge of nervousness. Reluctantly, Sam began to remove her critter’s packaging to find it came free with little difficulty and the creature popped out of it’s case with ease, flopping onto her lap. She could feel odd warmth from the spot where the creature now lay, not like the sensation she got from her friend’s hands. This was almost hot, as if whatever was within its plush skin could burn you if you cut it open. She imagined hot blood flowing steadily under that fuzzy exterior and a small heart pumping away. She was almost afraid to pick it up for fear that it might actually move. She saw a small card drift out of the box, and caught it before it fell off the couch. “It says here we just need to take out the psychic calculator from the pouch in its chest and pull the tab out of the back of the device,” She read as she skimmed the words on the card, “then answer its question before it will work.”
“Sounds simple enough.” Tristan stated and without the slightest hesitation she pushed her fingers into her rabbit’s chest causing Samantha to shudder in disgust at the sight. Tristan retrieved a soft pink device with white heart shaped buttons and turned it over to find a small white, heart-shaped, tab sticking out of the back. The moment she pulled the tab free the device came to life with a few beeps and other cute sounds. She turned the device over and read the message, “Hello, I am Floppy. What is your name?” Tristan read aloud and laughed, “Neat!” She exclaimed and began to push the buttons to spell out her name.
Courage filled Samantha as she noted that Tristan’s pet did not lunge for her friend’s throat. She cautiously pulled open the toad’s belly to find a dark green device within. Taking a deep breath she stuck her fingers into the slit, almost expecting to feel organs moving about. Not wanting to keep her fingers in the creature to long she quickly retrieved the device. It was deep green and had light green leaves for buttons and a leaf shaped display area. She turned it over to find a small green leaf sticking out of the back and pulled it out to hear the same series of beeps and music. When she turned the device back around and proceeded to read the message that blinked across the screen, “Hi, I’m Toader! Nice to meet you, what is your name?” The second line held a blinking leaf shaped cursor that awaited Samantha’s answer. She glanced up from the toy at Tristan with a puzzled look upon her face, “They were not very clever with the names, were they?” She noted with a hint of distaste.
Tristan shrugged, “I think Floppy suits mine.” She remarked as she continued to answer the thing questions.
Samantha pressed the buttons on her toy to enter her name, S-A-M and then hit enter. The screen blinked for a moment then a new message appeared.
“What is your full name?” It inquired.
Samantha blinked at the screen then turned to her friend, “Hey, Trish? Did you enter your full name?” She inquired nervously.
“I tried Trish first.” Tristan replied with a frown, “But it doesn’t seem to like short forms.” She stated, mystified by her new toy.
Samantha turned back to the device and entered her full name, next it asked for her birthday. She punched in the month of September and the twenty-eighth, and then entered and the thing came to life in her hands causing her to jump ever so slightly. Suddenly it began to play Happy Birthday in off toned beeps.
“What did you do?” Tristan inquired anxiously.
Samantha shrugged, “I just told it my birthday.” She turned the thing over in her hands then looked at the VCR clock to see it was only five o’clock, “It didn’t even ask me for the current date or anything.”
“Maybe it was programmed ahead of time.” Tristan suggested with a shrug.
“Maybe...” Samantha seemed unsure about that answer. She did not get to puzzle over it for long before the devise started beeping and asking more questions. She glanced at the screen to see more words crossing the display, “What is your favourite colour?” She read out loud, “Red, of course.” She mumbled, embarrassed to find herself talking to the device as if it would understand her. She glanced up to see Tristan was to busy answering her toy’s questions to notice Samantha’s comments and let out a sigh of relief. She returned to her device and entered her answer.
The two girls silently answered the multitude of questions the toy had for them. It asked everything from the simplest of details, such as their favourite animal, to strange questions, such as what they eat that morning. Before they knew it the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of the pizza delivery person.
“Pizza is here girls!” Tristan’s mother called out, startling the girl’s out of the spell the toy had over them.
Tristan set her toy down and stretched, “That thing asks a lot of questions. I can’t believe I just got quizzed on my life by a toy” She remarked with a chuckle then glanced over at her friend, “You finished answering your questions?” She inquired as she got to her feet.
Samantha punched in a few more letters, “Almost, I think.” She remarked, slightly mesmerized by the barrage of questions, “Go get some pizza. I’ll be right up.” She suggested, not taking her eyes off the device before her.
“‘Kay!” Tristan started towards the stairs then stopped and glanced back at her friend with concern in her eyes, “You sure you’ll be only a moment?” She inquired worriedly.
Samantha simply nodded.
Tristan hastily climbed the stairs to the kitchen, occasionally taking a glimpse down the stairs at her friend as she sat hunched over her new toy.
Samantha did not see the uneasy look upon her friend’s face before the girl turned and ran up the stairs. She busily filled out the finally question and hit enter. “Thank you Samantha. Is there anything you would like to ask me before you go eat?” It inquired.
She stared at the device then at the stairs. How did it possible know that she was about to leave it to eat? Maybe she would test the thing before leaving it. A question formed in her mind. Something she always wondered since she was very little. A question that she was sure this small toy would not be able to answer, “Is there someone who loves me?” She asked then hit the enter key, certain that there was no way it would have an answer for her.
The screen blinked for a few second and suddenly it filled with little hearts, “She awaits you upstairs.” It simply stated.
Samantha could feel her hands begin to tremble and her heart leap into her throat, making it hard to breath. How could it know that she was downstairs? Her eyes honed on the first word, ‘She’, How did it even know that there was a girl upstairs? One of the many questions the device had asked was Samantha’s gender and she told it female so why would it even suggest that a girl was in love with her? She swallowed hard as her eyes read and reread the message over and over again.
“Samantha, you coming?” Tristan called out from the kitchen.
“Yeah!” She found the off switch and flicked it, watching the screen turn blank, then shakily set the toy down on the coffee table next to its plushie skin. There was no way this toy could know who loved her. It was not possible and the thought that Tristan could be that person made her laugh. She had known the girl for years and there was no way Tristan felt love for her. Maybe sisterly love, but not real love.
She decided to forget about it and headed upstairs for some pizza. Yet the thought that someone could actually love her had already planted a seed within Samantha’s chest and she could feel it’s roots wrapping around her heart with every step she took. An ache began to build up inside of her as she approached the stairs. Her hand set upon the railing and she gazed up at the kitchen above, trying to will her legs to move, to climb those stairs. The mere thought of eating next to Tristan racked at her heart and she found she could not face Tristan if her feelings were true.
Sam quickly turned back to the toy; it’s black eyes staring at her from its spot on the coffee table. She suddenly broke from the stairs and scooped up the device into her hands. Trembling as she fumbled with the switch and watched as words began to scroll across the screen.
“Hello, Sam.” It said in pixelized letters, “Is there something you wish to ask me?”
‘SAM!!’ Samantha’s mind raced. First the thing asked for her full name and now it was using her nick. What was with this thing? Shakily she punched in a new question. She needed to know if Tristan really did love her and she needed to know now, “Is Trish the one who loves me?” She typed, having to correct a typo or two as she did because her hand shook so much, then anxiously hit the enter key.
The screen blinked again and its answer appeared before Samantha’s eyes, “Of course.” It stated simply.
Samantha let the device drop to the coffee table in disbelief. How could Tristan love her? There was no possible way. She scratched her head as she tried to piece together the events of her years with Tristan. Was there ever a time that Tristan showed signs that she could be in love with Samantha? She milled over the question and yet her mind would not give her the answer she wanted, then she remembered the way Tristan would pet her foot when she laid on the couch and the way she held her tight on those nights that she cried. Was it truly possible that her best friend was in love with her? Her head began to hurt the more she tried to think of what to do. Finally she grabbed the device and it’s plush skin, and then stuffed the gadget into her back pocket as she dashed up the stairs to the front door.
“Sam?” Tristan entered the living room and stared at Samantha in confusion, “Is there something wrong?” She anxiously asked.
Samantha shook her head in frustration, “I... don’t know.” She muttered as she pulled on her shoes, “I think I’m just... worried.” She stated, unsure of what to say.
“About your mom?” Tristan inquired, restlessly
‘No, about you.” She wanted to yell, but took a deep breath and let it out, “Yeah... Dad doesn’t always do as he is told and he might have forgotten to write the message down.” She lied, “Mom could be having a fit right now for all I know.” She remarked, hoping her friend would believe her fib.
Tristan’s mother entered from the dinning room at the end of the room, “Would you like me to call your place and see if everything is alright?” She asked with concern in her eyes.
Samantha gave the woman a nervous smile. She wished her mother was as concerned for her well being as Tristan’s, “That’s okay.” She replied then stepped towards the door, “Maybe I should get back home before she really does worry.”
Tristan let out a depressed moan, “I was hoping that you could stay overnight and then we could have two sleepovers in a row.”
Samantha considered giving the girl a hug to calm her worried then stopped herself. She stepped back from her friend and scanned the girl’s features, such a soft a cute face surrounded by that golden hair. Sam had dreamed on many occasions that they really were sisters and now the thought of this girl loving her was frightening Sam. She knew nothing about love or relationships. She had gone to one dance with a boy back in Junior High and nothing else. She would rather go to the movies with Tristan then go out with anyone else. Did the device somehow know this? Maybe it was trying to tell her that she had been leading Tristan along. The very thought of which made her tremble in fear. She suddenly turned away from her friend, “I should go.” She mumbled as she opened the front door.
Tristan quickly picked up her shoes and began to put them on, “I’ll come with you.” She stated anxiously.
Samantha felt herself freeze at the very suggestion, “N... no...” She stammered as she felt her finger grip the door knob tightly, “I... I can handle my mom. I don’t want her yelling at you too.” She remarked then pushed open the screen door; “I’ll talk to you later.” She was greeted by a gust of cool autumn air that felt good upon her skin. The sensation sent a shiver through her body and across her skull in such a way that it comforted her in a strange way and made her think of Beth’s comment about her being a wind spirit. She quickly discarded the through and turned back to her friend.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Tristan suggested with a smile that Samantha could tell was forced.
Samantha picked up her backpack from next to the door and stuffed plushie’s skin into one of the many pockets; “I’ll see you then.” Without awaiting an answer she let the screen slam behind her and ran out into the cool night. As she jumped onto her bike she could see Tristan standing on the porch watching her. Sam was almost certain she could see her friend rubbing tears from her eyes but refused to believe it. She did not want to believe any of it.
Samantha pedalled with all her might; the evening air roaring passed her ears, biting at the flesh of her cheeks and hand. She ignored the sensation as she sped down the back paths that twisted through her neighbourhood at an increasing pace. So much had happened that day that her mind felt broken. It kept jumping over moments in her life with Tristan and would not leave her alone. The more she tried to force Tristan out of her mind the more the images of the girl persisted. She pushed down on the pedal and allowed the bike to speed up. She jumped off the path and onto the street, nearly being hit by a car. She did not hear the wail of the car’s horn as she hopped the bike back up onto the sidewalk. She continued to jump on and off the curb, racing between parked cars in an attempt to shake the worries from her mind. Usually a good ride on her bike would rattle her woes loose, however this time they stuck fast and she found that no matter how much she pushed herself it didn’t seem to help.
Within moments she arrived at her home and wished there was another block or two of road to ride along. She did not want to be here any more then she wanted to run away from Tristan. Her eyes scanned the streets in search of some place to curl up and hide. She forced herself to not crawl under a rock and allowed the bike coast up her driveway, parking it beside the house. Her heart was pounding out of control and she felt like she could ride forever, but she was afraid that if she allowed it herself to continue her legs would carry her to the next town where she would truly have no one. She decided to leave the bike for now and just go hide in her room.
As she approached the front door she realized that maybe coming home was not such the greatest idea. Right away she could hear the arguing of her parents from beyond the house’s thick walls and regretted putting the bike down. It would seem that no matter where she went she would always be running from something. Her hands hurt from the cold air and she knew she could not stay outside for much longer. She settled on heading straight up to her room to grab a thicker sweater, her jacket and glove then go out for a longer bike ride. She set her hand on the doorknob when a serge of a raw heat shocked her hand and she heard the device in her pocket suddenly spring to life. She let go of the knob and reached for the toy to find the devise was blinking wildly and vibrating in her hands. She looked at the screen to see on word repeated across its surface, “RUN!!!” It screamed at the girl.
The door abruptly opened at that moment and Samantha glanced up to see her father staring at her in stunned shock, his head a mess of curls that reminded Samantha of whom to blame for her own hair’s unrulingness. A pair of thick lenses sat crooked upon his red sweat covered face while a pair of beady brown eyes stared out at her through the glare of the street lamps created. Even still she could see the fear and bewilderment in those eyes and noticed there were small cuts upon his cheek and brow. He turned away from his daughter to glance over his shoulder and for the first time Samantha saw her mother, her face twisted in anger as she barrelled around the corner from the living room. Her eyes were wild and wisps of light blond hair hung in her face, obscuring part of the snarl that crossed her lips. In her hands she held a large crystal vase, spilling flowers and water across the linoleum that covered the hall floor.
“Get out of here and never come back!” Her mother screech as she flung a glass vase at the man. Her father quickly ducked as the vase tumbled through the air, over him. Sam had no time to think, her mind frozen by the scene she saw before her. No time to move as the vase collided with her head, shattering into hundreds of pieces, sending the small girl sprawling onto the grass lawn below the patio. The last thing Samantha recalled was the sound of her mother’s worried voice as her blurry image hovered over her and then everything went black.
‘Happy Birthday Sam.’ She thought to herself as she felt a thick darkness encircle her mind, ‘Happy Birthday to you.’
*****
To be Continued . . .
*****
Note: Characters and ideas in this story are a copyright of Kathryn K Williams.
If you wish to view art from this series please visit my deviant arts site at: http://shinigami-shimai.deviantart.com/
For more of my stories visit my deviant hearts site at: http://www.devianthearts.com/viewuser.php?uid=159
Also if you spot any typos or other errors please contact me at katwilliams @ rogers.com