The Little Blue Pitcher

Explanations That Don't Explain Anything

I looked up to see the weirdo, leaning coolly against the wall. I sighed and laid back down, not even bothering to fight. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, struggling to breathe. He came to my side and picked me up softly, carrying me to my bed where he laid me down with the upmost care.

"Well, you were in a dangerous spot there and I was hoping that I got you out of it before he popped an organ or however that works." he explained, only leaving me taken aback and with more questions.

"How do you even know? You were nowhere near my house. The police came and got him, not you. So technically, you didn't get me out of anything." I growled.

"Did the police talk to you? I bet they didn't, right?" he asked with a cocky attitude.

"No," I said simply.

"That's because I brought them. I saw that you were injured and I was waiting very impatiently for you to say the magic words." he scolded, as if I were a child.

"So what, then? Were you watching me through a window? God, you act like you're some sort of genie. You need professional help to lower that ego."

"Actually, you're one hundred percent correct."

"What, that you need professional help to lower your ego?"

"No, that I'm a genie. I figured I'd grant your first wish before properly introducing myself. And, as much as I'd like to kill that guy for you, it's against my morals."

"You are a fucking loon, dude. Get out of here. And don't talk about him like that. He's my-"

"Your what? Your boyfriend? Doesn't seem that way to me. Didn't you hear him? He doesn't love you."

"You shut your mouth. I only almost said that because it was a force of habit. Also I still have feelings for him."

"And you're calling me a loon? He just beat you, Allie, and told you that what you thought you two were was not. I felt your ribs crack. You should hate him for that, Allie."

I was taken aback by multiple things he said. When he said my name, it sent shivers up and down my spine and made goosebumps torture my arms. He felt my ribs crack? How?

"How do you know that my ribs are broken?" I asked warily.

"I told you, I felt it. I can feel everything you can feel and see physically. I don't intrude on your emotions or thoughts though. Again, against my morals." he explained, as if he were telling the truth.

"You expect me to believe that garbage? You are a human! I'm crushing your dreams right now. You are a damn human!" I spat, but he seemed unphased.

He didn't say anything, but he kept a calm face, stroking his short stubble a couple times and watching me as if to make sure I didn't keel over. I sighed, both in immense pain and in immense frustration.

"What do you want from me? You stalked me in Scotland and then followed me all the way home so you must want something from me. I have no money to give you. Tell me what you want or leave me alone." I cried, hoping that he would finally get it through his thick skull.

He didn't say anything, but walked up to me and stroked my hair once before walking out. As he was shutting the door, he said, with hurt and seriousness, "I'd like for you to rethink how you view your situation."