Alien Tongues ~Humans Spines Book Two~

Hot Chocolate-II

Reminder: Words that are all three underlined, italicized, and in bold are meant to be 'striked out'. We just have to imagine until Wattpad updates to include this feature.

Dumaine

         I get it now. Murdering people is wrong and I understand why now. I don't feel bad for killing those people though. I feel what it does to those close to the person who has died. Even though the families and classmates of the people I killed couldn't remember that they even existed. I know why it's such a big deal now. This means I can still murder whoever needs to be murdered. Because it hurts. Killing things feel so good. Because it was my fault and it hurts.

        Emmeline is breathing like there's a snake slithering down her throat. I explained it all to her, recounting the events leading up to Drexel's poetry reading. Her facial expression has frozen in this confused eyebrow, teary-eyed, sour-lemon mouthed state. I'm actually quite proud that I'm not making that same face. I've only really thought about what happened to Hans six times since what I've started to call the Blue Day. Each time it takes me an hour to get over it. But this time I have Emmeline. Even while processing like she is now, she exudes this constant acceptance and trust. Like she knows that no matter what, she will make it out alive. Or something like that

        "Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay." There are words on the tip of her tongue but I watch her swallow them. "What about now? What about his dance studio? What about the Opaque? What about the Reaper-Mother and Lochlan and Maddy and your dad and those Demons that came to attack us? What about now?" Her eyes search mine. I'm waiting for one of her tears to finally dribble over the edge.

        "Dumaine!" She snaps and I remember that she isn't nearly as patient as the Translucent. She doesn't have all the time in the world.

        "Now?" My eyebrows rise as I pull myself back together and shrug. "Well, you see, the thing about now is...Well," I pull myself up from the couch and take her hand, gently guiding her to her feet. "the thing about now is that it's Thanksgiving. And I know you're hungry."

        I really did try to help make dinner. I stirred stuff and measured things and boiled water but I spent half of my day outside. Drexel's the one who's been in the kitchen all day. He got up early this morning like he does every morning and began chopping and peeling while it was still dark out. I thought maybe Cecilia, his wife, would show up to help him but when she didn't I figured I probably should. Drexel had to have been the best personal assistant ever.

        "Whose house is this?" Emmeline is holding onto me, looking around a room that she has never seen. I know how she looks in this room though. I've seen her eat at this dining table hundreds of times. I watched her sit on these pillow chairs thousands. Walk across this wooden floor millions. Her body knows this room, with its cream and red walls, inside and out. But as she stands looking down at the white pillows on the floor and the knee high table and the complete feast laid out across it, she is clueless. Emmeline has never been here before.

        "This," I spread my arms wide. "is our house. And this," I pull her down beside me as I sit on a pillow. "is our Thanksgiving dinner. Eat."

Emmeline

        I feel uncomfortable. I want my father. I want Hans. I want my best friend, but he's different now. Not too much, but for me, just forty-five minutes ago he was holding my hand and telling me the Opaque have arrived. It wasn't seven months for me. It wasn't even an hour ago. The Reaper-Mother's voice is still echoing in my head. I'm still living by Hans's quote from this that morning. I can still hear the last thing I heard him say. Prove me wrong.