prologue

prologue

A spring was set off somewhere in my abdomen in the midsts of my dreaming. I suddenly jerked upright in bed, grabbing my head and my hair with trembling hands. I couldn't breathe. Air was not getting in my lungs. Pain.
One. Two. Three. By the third gasp, my lungs opened up again and in came a swell of fresh air, followed by a sigh of relief. Lowering my hands to grip the bedsheets under and around me, I carefully, cautiously, glanced back over my shoulder. Cleo's form laid snuggled up under the sheets, undisturbed. Her sides were moving with her slow, soft breathing. That was somewhat comforting. Just to make sure, I crawled over on my hands and knees, tipping forward a bit to get a look at her face.
It was as perfect and undamaged as I had seen it a few hours ago before falling asleep. Closing my eyes with another heavy sigh, I shook my head. Nonsense, I scolded myself. Nothing bad could ever happen to her with me here... After peering around the room, inspecting the shadows in the corners suspisously like I remembered doing as a kid, I touched a quick kiss to Cleo's plush cheek. She whined a bit- too cute- then settled in for another round of silent sleeping. This finally assured me that she'd be okay.
Even if it all was nonsense and I knew she was all right, the unsettling sleep continued to eat away at my nerves for the next hour that I spent trying to sleep. After blindly searching for my glasses and getting out of bed- or off the futon, whatever it was called- to limp around the room and wake up my tingling feet, I made frequent rounds of skipping from the bedroom to the bathroom to stare at the mirror, then out on the porch to smoke. My back ached. Even after two years of sleeping that solid stone futon, I could not get used to it.
An hour and two cigarettes later, I still couldn't get the worry off my chest. The stress made my hearthurt, literally and figuratively all at once. I was left staring out the glass doors from inside my bedroom, looking onto the night lights that glowed in the smog that surrounded the city below. It was eerie. It looked like lightbugs that had set something on fire with their glowy rear ends and were now lost in the smoke.
And that was actually rather true. Lots of people were lost here. That's one thing I noticed from living in Durns.
Another thing I noticed- well, made a note to myself to try and remember to argue about it with her- was Cleo's weird taste in decorations. She had done something with the curtains last Thursday while I was at work. It was all probably too artistic for me to see the real thought behind it. I would've just argued to let them hang straight... But, no, the curtains lay pulled across one glass door, wound around in spirals around the top bar, and curled off like Christmas ribbons on a package down the side of the open window. At least it did a good job of keeping the room dark and private, completely closing off one door.
Even so, I still felt like someone was always watching me. God? Probably not. But someone... something was.
Peering forward one last time out the door, I abandoned my mindless internal ranting about Cleo's curtains and the damn city, and I paced back to bed, where a pile of warm quilts and hopefully a cozy pair of arms would await me.
Even before I had tugged on the covers and let the cold air in, Cleo had stirred and rolled over. I snuck my way into bed before she opened her eyes, faking my innocence by shutting my eyes and pretending to be dozing. She shuffled over, threw an arm around my back lazily, and touched noses, mushing her little button nose up against my big, flat one.
"Mm," she murred out, "Cal, why are you up?" I pulled open one eye; the pretending didn't quite work. While awaiting an answer, her wide eyes absorbing the night light that drifted in from the glass door nearby. And they let off a glow, almost painfully bright.
While I was lost in the little suns reflecting off her eyes, Cleo reached over and plucked my glasses off my nose, tucking them behind her on the bedside table. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to fecklessly adjust to the blurry fog surrounding us. A scowl followed.
"How long have you been up?" I grumbled out.
"Long enough. Worrying about something?" followed in a quiet murmur to finish my thoughts, full of her usual concern. Her toasty fingers trailed down along my spine, and that made me shiver. I knew my fingers would have the same reaction out of her, merely because my hands are always cold.
I muttered out a somewhat hesitant reply, "I dunno." After a strange pause, I tacked on a reason, "Just work, I guess." Which was a lie.
But the fib was good enough for Cleo. She merely tipped her head in reassurance, touched a kiss between my eyes, and pulled herself in close to me. Her arms curled snug around my shoulders, and she was unconsciously forcing me to now stay in bed. No more midnight pacing for me.
Defeated, I yanked the blankets over us both, tucked them in around her backside, and left one hand settled at the dip in her lower back. It always had fit my hand just perfectly, leaving the puzzle locked together comfortably around her snugglily curvature. The other hand entangled its fingers in her short, spiky hair. I found myself mindlessly fiddling with her locks while she left me for the dreamworld.
And I found myself alone again. Yet I wanted nothing more at that moment to shake her awake and make her stay up all night with me, so I'd have someone there to keep me from sleeping and having a nightmare again. I had no mother and father anymore to go running to for comfort. Instead, I had to settle with clinging onto a sleeping Cleo like I used to with a teddy bear when I was a little boy, feeling just as weak and powerless as one.
What a miserable feeling it was. But that feeling was soon lost to the dreary sleep that overcame my senses, shooting my consciousness into darkness again and leaving my feeble mortal body curled around Cleo's, unable to save her.

----------

Light was licking at my eyelids, beckoning me from my dreamless doze. So I did, prying my eyes open one by one. I found myself lying on my front, head twisted to face Cleo's side of the futon.
She wasn't there. For some reason, immediate panic swelled up inside of me. Where was she? I breathed deep, and found myself exhaling all that sudden fear when the scent of coffee and baked goods entered my nostrils and told my brain, It's all right, Cleo's in the kitchen. A small smile creeped over my lips unconsciously while I pushed myself up and over onto my back.
In my head, my mind silently turned over the day's agenda while my other senses went on vacation, basking in the morning sunlight's warmth and Cleo's scents of cooking. My brain was coming up with blanks, so, confident that I had nothing to get up for, I sunk back into the pillows behind my head and let out a comfortable sigh. Maybe I would get up in a few minutes to finish a cigarette before breakfast... Maybe.
My head rolled to the side, cheek pushing up against the cozy flannel cover and fluffy stuff inside. After a moment of resting with my eyes closed, I tugged one eyelid open and glanced half-heartedly to the table clock. As much sleep as I had been getting recently, Cleo might have been making lunch.
9:16. My half-asleep brain suddenly went on alert. Was it the weekend still? Must have been. Either the alarm would have gone off or Cleo would've gotten me up. But... It was three nights that we had gone to see a movie on our movie night, with the stale popcorn and stick floors and all. I remember that clearly, because my shoes continued to stick to floors for the rest of the weekend. But that all meant yesterday was Sunday and today was Mon--
"Oh, SHIT!" The words flew off my lips before I could think. I shot straight up and thereafter immediately crumbled, a wave of dizziness flooding my head. Collapsing in a heap on the floor, I made a scramble to find the shirt I had thrown off last night before getting into bed.
The shirt was stuffed up next to the midget-sized bedside table. Shaking it out a few times and inspecting it, I decided that it looked clean enough- besides the fact that it had a stain of sauce on the front- and pulled it on. I then yanked the little table drawer open and picked a tie at random, because I was busy with buttoning up my wrinkled shirt.
Pulling myself up off the floor, I ended up right back down there once I crashed my leg into the corner of the slab of stone I was forced to sleep on. It hurt! A string of curses followed, one that I was sure not only Cleo heard, but the rest of the condominium building did. Gritting my teeth, I reached an arm out and blindly rumaged for my shoes- my oversized and clunky boot-shoes that Cleo hated because they left streaks on the kitchen floor. But that was of little concern this morning. Pulling them on quickly and not bothering with the laces and buckles, I rolled onto my front and got up once more to finish my dash to the bathroom.
I spent about two seconds in front of the bathroom mirror. One second was spent smoothing down my hair with a lap of my tongue on my palm, and the other was spent noticing that my trousers were still open and unbuckled. And as quickly as I had run into there, I was out again, messing with my belt and hopping off to the kitchen to find Cleo, and hopefully some breakfast.
However, I stopped short when I realized that the bright room outside of the door was as unfocused as a photograph taken by a two-year-old. With one giant leap, I flung myself back onto the futon and began rumaging in the sheets to find my glasses.
"Hey, Cleo! Where are my glasses?" I shouted, tearing the futon apart that Cleo had already made up her half of.
An answer came back to me from the other room. "Right where they are supposed to be." My glasses were supposed to be on the table by the bed, but were they--?
"Oh," I muttered to myself. The glasses had snuck their way under a pillow in my frantic hurry. I made one final jump out of bed and, while pushing my glasses up my nose with my thumb, hurried to the kitchen once more.
Poking my head in through the kitchen arch, I found my little fiance hunched over the countertop, chin propped up in her palms while she watched the coffee pot finish. Upon noticing my presence in the kitchen, probably by the annoying flopping and thunking my shoes were making, Cleo turned her head to me, a beaming smile on her soft dollface.
"Good morning, kitten!" she called out cherrily as she straightened up, reaching for the empty canteen that wasn't far from her short reach.
"Yeah, 'morning," I muttered in reply, focusing my attention briefly on knotting my tie. Today would have to be a mismatch day- the tie was a bright crimson red, while my plain shirt and olive trousers completely clashed.
Soon, I scooted over to her, finding a moment to breathe while Cleo filled my canteen. Without realizing it at first, my hands gravitated to her hips and held them gently, hindering her work since I wasn't going to let her stray far from my grasp. I felt rather tempted to slip my hands into the pockets of her trousers and warm up my cold fingers, but now probably wasn't a good time. I stuck that note on my to-do list.
And time started trailing by sluggishly. Cleo just spent too much time filling the canteen and getting the right amount of sugar in it. Of course, that was one of those details I loved that she paid attention to usually. However, today was one of those days I wished she'd just hurry up. Impatiently, I bounced on my heels behind her, peeking over her shoulder. She was still messing with pouring in just the right amount of coffee into my canteen.
"I'm really late, Cleo," I whined, sticking out my lower lip a bit to add to my already pathetic display of weekday morning rush. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Because that's not my job," she replied back in an oh-so merry tone, tipping her head back to grin back at me. "It's not my fault if you decide to sleep in."
"Mean! You turned off the alarm!" I cried, letting out every childish quirk I had in me at the moment. I made sure I put in a little stomp of my foot to make my point and demeanor clear. Cleo simply snickered at me and turned, pushing a muffin and canteen into my hands. I put on a face, giving her a scowl.
"Quit it, you," she murmured, lifting a hand to pat at my cheek. "I'm sure your boss won't mind if you're a few minutes late. Now, here's a muffin, coffee, your bag," she hefted my shoulder bag up off the floor and dropped it around one shoulder, making me wince, "and a kiss." Rising up on her tip-toes, Cleo dabbed at my cheek with her lips, leaving a moist spot that I could feel near my nose. I was left standing there for a few moments with breakfast clutched in my hands, busy mentally sweeping off the irritation and exicitement from the morning. After stuffing the warm canteen into my bag and silently praying that it wouldn't spill, I grabbed the little lady around her torso in a snug embrace, lifting her up off the ground for a few seconds.
Tipping my head in near hers, I dug my nose into her hair to find her hidden ear and whispered to her, "What would I possibly do without my Cleo, hm? I think you saved me again. Well, almost." Still squeezing her close to myself, I offered an adoring nip to her ear, kissed it, and sighed heavily. "Even if it is your fault that I'm gonna be late this morning," I added on quietly. Cleo snorted at me and shoved me off with her hands, gently.
"You know, you're making yourself later every extra moment that you stand here," she said, smirking at me.
"I know," I replied calmly. Cleo laughed again, smacked my arm- that stung- and then edged me toward the door. I hit her back on the shoulder, though playfully, pouting at her.
"Ow," I whimpered. Cleo just shook her head at me with another bright grin. I loved those smiles she put on. It always made me forget exactly what I was thinking about before and lit up the moment. Thus, I ended up walking into a closed door.
"Get out, go to work," Cleo said, desperately trying to hold back a laugh from my mishap. "But have a good day and don't forget to call me around lunch time, okay?" I reached for the house keys dangling from the wall, next to the hook that held my coat off the floor. I made sure I tugged that down off the wall, too.
"Uh huh," I replied, absently.
"Don't forget. Please."
"I won't."
"Liar."
"Yeah, I know." I got a swat on the back for that. Shooting her a sheepish little grin, I tugged on my coat, flapping my arms a bit to get my hands through the sleeves. Cleo attempted to be useful by messing with my hair as she nudged me to the door. I felt like a young nestling getting pushed by its mother out of the nest as Cleo shoved me out, the girl busy rattling off details about tonight's dinner we had planned while I wasn't really listening. And then it hit me.
"Oh... right," I murmured, more to myself than anything else. "We're going to dinner tonight." Unfortunately, Cleo heard me.
"Cal!" she yelled, the anger in her voice suddenly apparent. "Don't tell me you forgot about that!" I flinched.
"N-no! I'm...going now!" I let the words hurry out of my mouth faster than I could realize that I was actually lying, again. I really had forgotten. But that didn't matter; I was already jogging down the stairs before she could respond to me. I glanced back once to find Cleo sticking her tongue out at me. I returned the favor, topping it off with a little blown raspberry and echoed in the empty stair halls, and couldn't help but break out into a grin, then lept the banister without much thought. So I didn't quite know was floor I was on.
I came crashing down two stories to land on my feet, then falling flat on my ass. Pain shot up my shins and I scowled. My knees were going to hurt all bloody day...
"Real smart," I scolded myself. With a hearty groan, I pulled myself up again and glanced around for any witnesses, making sure my pride was one thing that I could keep intact on this haywire morning. I then stumbled to the front doors of the building.