Bruises

f0rtÿ-ëïght

The elevator was too slow and too loud and I hated it. It arrived on the sixth floor right next to Tim's apartment, and I found myself walking towards his door.

I gingerly knocked on it, the video camera tucked firmly in the zip-pocket of my bag. I fingered it nervously while I waited.

He opened the door with his usual bright smile, yet it seemed somewhat fake. But when he saw me it disappeared, replaced by pressed lips. "What do you want?"

I swallowed. My throat hurt. "I need to show you something."

He hesitated, his fingers tapping the edge of the door in a quick rhythm. "This isn't a good time." Tim stepped aside and I saw someone sitting on the couch.

His sister, with the same blonde hair hanging in a curtain down her back.

"No, Tim, this is a very good time. Please." I looked up at him pleadingly.

He groaned. "Don't tell her who you are."

I nodded and stepped inside his apartment.

It was white, from the ceilings to the the walls to the lounges on the white tiles. The apartment was embellished with light timber which adorned the kitchen and the edges of furniture.

If he was the light, I was most certainly the darkness.

But maybe he wasn't that light anymore and I wasn't as dark.

I walked in and pulled my laptop out of my bag, setting it up on a small timber stool. I got out the video camera and attached it to the computer via a short cord, and waited for it to register.

I felt someone walk up behind me. "Hi, I'm Tim's sister, Bridget."

I slowly turned around and smiled a small smile. "Hey. I'm... Amanda. I work with Tim."

She nodded, grinning. Her teeth were perfect inside plump pink lips. "What are you doing?"

"I need to show you both something." I glanced at Tim out of the corner of my eye to find him wiping away a stray tear. My heart stung.

I pressed play on the video.

_

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