Roses in Heaven

Chapter 4: How It Feels To Be Alone

Smothering the purple jelly over the cooked toast, I bit into the sandwich and sipped at my coffee. I can feel the jolt of energy surge through my veins from the caffeine-infused drink. I combed my hair and later brushed my teeth, softly in little circles; then flossing between each tooth. I licked at the gap in the top, thanking God that my mother didn't get braces for me. I applied deodorant and slipped on a shirt. Hearing the knock on the door, I yelled, "I'll be there in a second!"
I took my pills and went to the door, licking my lips. Looking through the peephole, I find the brunette from two days ago, Hannah.
"My name's Hannah. Grace told me that she wanted to see you."
"I'll let you in in a second, can you just tell me how the hell you got my address?"
"Oh, Samuel told me via text message."
"Stupid Samuel," I quietly murmured.
"Okay, come on in."
In comes Hannah and walking next to her was, you guessed it, Grace.
She wore a black-and-white shirt with a black headband and, of course, dark lipstick and jeans. This girl really likes to match her clothing with headbands and makeup. And I didn't mind; thought it was creative of her doing that.
"'Kay, Grace, I'm gonna run some errands while you two hang out. Any questions?"
"Yes, um, please stop treating me like a three-year old," said Grace.
"Sorry."
Hannah darted her dark eyes at me and said, "Please take care of her, okay? She can be a bit antisocial."
Thank God Grace didn't hear her because she had earbuds in.
"I will."
"Also..."
She took out a piece of paper and added in a hushed voice, "This is Grace sister's number. Her name's Dani and try not to anger Grace about it. They rarely got along with each other growing up."
"Thanks again."
"Okay, see you later, Gracie."
Grace took out an earbud and waved to her in a strange way: she used the sign for rock 'n roll but with the thumb out.
When Hannah closed the door, I then said, "That's a unique way of saying 'good-bye'."
"It's sign for 'I love you'," she explained.
"Sign?"
"Until I was four, I didn't speak, so my family taught me how to sign. Because it's been years, I kinda forgot some of it.
The 'I love you' sign has been used forever."
"Why didn't you speak?"
She stared blankly at me, digging through her shirt pocket for a rubber red block. Grace was about to put the rubber block in her mouth when she said, "Do you mind?"
"No, no, not at all. Go ahead."
Without warning, she placed the block between her teeth and chewed aggressively.
"I have pica," she explained.
"A disorder where people eat things that aren't edible. Luckily, I'm smart enough to not actually eat it; I just chew on it and spit it out."
"Hey, listen, do you like paintings?"
She perked up and replied, "Yeah, why?"
"I'm an artist and I was wondering if you wanna look at my work. I range from papier-mâché to mannequins."
"Mannequins?"
"I just make them look like real people by putting wigs on them and clothes; nothing really"-
"I'd love to see them," she answered.
"O-Okay," I stammered.

Grace took a few pictures- with my consent- of a couple of my artworks.
"Must've taken years of practice," she mused.
"I don't like to brag, but I did win about twenty awards." She scoffed in an incredulous tone and responded, "Awesome!"
Suddenly her expression softened and said, "I know how it feels to be alone."
"What? What do you mean, you know? You have friends and I-I have friends."
"I mean mentally. In real life, we have friends that take care and support us through hard times, but in your mind...you wonder if you have any at all.
"And I saw the pills in the medicine cabinet when I used the bathroom. Guessing that you have a disability or something like me."
"I have depression because my ex died, but you have a disability?"
Slowly turning her head to me, tears dripping off her face, she said, "I've been diagnosed with autism since I was eighteen months."