The Way The World Ends ✓

Chapter 5. Indigo

~

Those who have crossed

With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom

Remember us-if at all-not as lost

Violent souls, but only

As the hollow men

The stuffed men.

~

A few hours later, I was still distracted while eating a microwaved frozen dinner on the couch in the living room. The TV was on, but I wasn't really watching it. Between bites of mashed potato, I reread the texts from before, feeling a foreign fuzzy feeling fill my chest as well as familiar apprehension. How was I supposed to glean meaning from so few words without any sort of tone indication? Why is this a form of communication? What ever happened to talking on the telephone or in person? Then again, I didn't think I would like any form of communication new or old.

I heard the door unlock and I thrust my phone between the couch cushion and my butt cheek to avoid any questions. I never really used my phone because there was no one to talk to except for Sonny, who I didn't really want to talk to in the first place. And I wasn't about to have her snooping around in my business. I wanted to be able to enjoy this without her ruining it with her prodding questions and ultimate taunting. I wanted to keep whatever was happening between Nate and I to myself, so I could keep myself in the bliss a little longer. It was selfish, yes, but I wasn't ready to give up on the possibilities just yet. I especially didn't want her to be the reason I had to let it go.

Sonny is very fit for a woman of forty. I'm not saying that all forty years old are unfit, but rather, Sonny is unusually fit. I think she must go to the gym once a day, and if she doesn't then I don't know why she wears the stupid skin-tight Lulu Lemon clothes every day. She waltzed through the door of the house wearing pink yoga clothes from head to toe and toted in behind her a bag from the grocery store. She swore that her hair was naturally red, but I could see the dye she bought monthly clearly through the plastic bag. I smirked, but that didn't last long because Petunia came running toward her mama. I cringed at the sound of her nails skating across the hardwood floors and resisted the urge to laugh when the dog overshot and skidded right into the wall. However, out of happiness, she was still panting like she couldn't get enough air. Dumb dog. My eyes trailed over the stream of drool she left from her bed to the front door where Sonny picked her up and cradled her like a baby.

"Who's mama's girl?" She asked the dog.

The dog responded with a snaggletooth pant that dripped even more drool I knew Sonny would make me clean up later. I rolled my eyes, which unfortunately caught my aunt's attention.

"What are you wearing?" Sonny criticized, looking down at me disapprovingly. "What happened to the clothes I bought you last week?"

"Um, they're called sweatpants. And those clothes don't fit me."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady," Sonny lectured, putting Petunia down so the dog could run back to her bed in the hallway. "And they don't fit because you haven't been working out like I told you to before."

"Sor-ry," I mumbled, gathering my dinner and getting up to escape.

"Get back over here," she told me on my way to the kitchen, crossing her arms over her chest. "I will not have you speak to me that way in my household."