The Only Way ✓

31. Story Time

Third Person

"I'm fine. It was nothing. Seriously, I'm fine he said," a long haired red head muttered to herself as she walked out of the elevator and into her living quarters. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't notice her loneliness. 

"Mila, I'm just going to go see Simon," she continued and scoffed as she took out her frustration out on her bedroom door. The jacket she wore had quickly been disposed of on her floor, as she began to transfer her frustration into something more useful- cleaning. It was all she could do, mutter to herself and clean because in her current condition of amnesia she had only one friend who had simply dropped her off at her complex to entertain herself. 

"Yeah, right. I'm suppose to believe that. He freaking gets all dark and seconds later I'm suppose to believe he's perfectly stable," she rambled off. She dashed through her room trying to clean everything she possibly could even if she had cleaned seconds before. 

"Why not?" 

"Because I know what it feels to be under that vile trance. A few seconds is not enough time to become stable," the girl answered carrying on her therapeutic cleaning not yet registering she had just spoken to another voice that was not the one in her head. 

"I really can't believe I'm having this discussion with myself," the red head was so consumed in her cleaning she had blinded herself of the most evident things.

"Talking to yourself... Dearie, words hurt, I'm perfectly sure I do exist," The girl froze there in her crouched position. If it was possible, if she were human her blood would have run cold. That voice, it wasn't her inside head. That voice wasn't anyone she knew. 

"Oh now didn't mean to interrupt your little shindig you had going there, but someone like you shouldn't be talking to themselves," the stranger took a quick sweep through of the room, giving a quick nod of approval as he made himself comfortable on the bed. The girl turned around slowly, expecting the stranger to be somewhere behind her and she was surprise to see that he was on her bed, quite comfortable. 

"Staring is rude, love. But I'll just put it pass me because it's you." The stranger laid on her bed, a bag of chip appearing in his hands, their origins unknown.

"Who are you?" The girl took several steps closer watching the stranger intently. Yet, curiously. His voice sounded so close as if he were right behind her shoulder and yet he was several feet away. She almost cringed at the loudness. 

"I'm your fairy Godfather..." the stranger uttered waiting for some sort of reaction and when he received none he carried on, "you're a hard one to crack. If I didn't know any better I would have thought you were related to Simon. That old bastard can't tell the difference between a joke or a threat." The girl narrowed her eyes at him at the mention of Simon.

"Oh touchy subject is it, didn't mean to spark any feelings there. I rather not have to deal with blood today, Camila, mine nor yours. Wait, would you rather be called Cam, or Mila," the stranger removed his precautionary attention on the girl and consumed himself with the chips in his hands. He didn't feel threatened by the girl, it was just all part of the show. The girl couldn't fathom how this stranger had been capable of getting inside her home, any less know so much about her.

"Who are you?" She repeated herself, "how do you know so much about me?"

"Since you refused to take the fun version of who I am," the stranger sighed and with a snap of his fingers the chips disappeared, "I have to give you the really boring version of who I am. Seriously, you sure you don't want me to give you the fun version, it even has an interactive-" Camila who continued to stay standing in her spot shook her head.