Chapter One

I watched her stand on her tiptoes stretching to reach the last of the dust. She would never get the back corner. She has a ladder in the garage she could use, but she is rather lazy. I turn away as I can promptly predict how the rest of the day will go. I feel the desperation to leave this person. But I have been assigned to stay here until time comes to retrieve me. They call it learning. But there is simply nothing I could possibly learn from Starely.

“Babe? You home?” The voice thunders over, causes her to slip but then she catches herself. The world is too kind to her sometimes. I glare at the direction of the voice, not that he would notice me. Not that they could see me. “Yeah, I’m in here,” she calls out. Giving no further direction. She’s still slightly mad from the night before, when he arrived twenty minutes late smelling sour and acting drowsy. He passed out upon his arrival. If I had eyes to roll, this would certainly be the right time. I know too much about this person.

“What are you doing up there?” He asks, quizzled, arriving at the kitchen. But if he would further assess the situation, he would see the disinfectant in her hand and the dusting cloth on the floor. Oh, these people are driving me rather insane.

“I’m cleaning,” she says shortly, stating the obvious. “My mom is coming, you have to go.” Ah. The lovely secrets kept from those who adore her. Of course no one knows about her relationship. Why would they? There was a restraining order against him!

“Why didn’t you tell me last night, dear?” He never calls her dear.

“I would have,” she says, turning to finally look at him. She gives him her rather fake smile he always falls for. He almost smiles back, but instead gives a slight frown. “But babe, you passed out as soon as you got here.” She scrunches her nose and gives him a big innocent look. People are rather annoying. He looks panicked for a fraction of a second, worried, insecure. But throws it away quickly. Too quickly for the girl to notice. As she usually doesn’t tend to notice most things. “But you still love me,” he says smirking, confidently. She almost gives him a real smile. She jumps off the kitchen island and gives him a hug. “Of course I do,” she whispers in his ear. But her mind drifts to casually wondering if she really does love him. She eyes the clock. Two hours until her mother arrives. “Babe, you have to go, she’ll be here soon, we’ll catch up later.” She smiles sweetly. He winks at her, thinking they’re on the same page. “I’ll go over to my uncles.” He lets her know, but they both know that’s the only place he ever goes. But she nods along like it’s a good idea and pretends to look stressed in the midst of her cleaning. Of course, most of these are my assumptions, but after being here for three years, I can keep up. Her writings all point to her perspectives on things as well. And his random outbursts also contribute to my accusations. I often wonder who is more naive out of the two.

I will follow him today. Since I have hung out with the girl all this morning and afternoon. A change of scenery would be nice. But instead of the usual drive to his uncles, he only drives down the street. He stops at a small brick house. He is unacquainted with anyone on this block. His sudden change is questionable.

“Now I wait,” he says, talking out loud. And if I were visible, he would be staring right at me. “Let’s see if her mother is actually almost there. Because last time, I don’t think she ever arrived.” Dumbfounded, I look at the young boy. Do I really know these people as much as I believe?