Chapter 4 - Cimmerio 2

For someone so tiny, she sure was heavy. I had to carry that girl all the way from the lighthouse to her house. 303 Snead Street was very far away from the light house and it took me forever to find it. Once I found the house I had to find a way in. She had fifty million keys on one ring so I had to go through trial and error before I finally found the right key.
Sylvia Forrester was her name. She was 24 years old and she was an organ donor. Who knew a driver’s license could tell so much about a person? I laid her out on her bed so she could regain conciseness. I intended on leaving immediately, but something about her convinced me to stay.
It wasn’t her innocence, and it definitely wasn’t her loveliness. So what was it? Was it her head injury? Or was it the fact that she said she cared about me? I thought it over for a while. She really didn’t mean that she cared about me. She was just saying that to keep me from jumping. So if it was just a way to keep me alive, why does it make me feel so warm inside? I pushed back my brown hair and looked at her.
She looked so peaceful in her unconscious state. Her dark, chestnut hair surrounded her round face. Her thin, pink lips were partially open. The expression on her face was as if she were having a nightmare. Her eyebrows would constantly scrunch up and then relax. She would groan a few words like, “No.”, “Don’t.”, and “Stop.”
At first, I wanted to wake her up, but I decided that it was best for her to wake up on her own. She lay on the bed like a sleeping angel. Her skin looked soft, warm, and inviting. I couldn’t help but skim my fingers over her face and down her arm. Her arms were small, but very muscular. That was what made her heavy when I carried her home.
Time passed slowly as I sat in the corner of her bedroom waiting for her to wake up. Every now and then, I would walk around her house just to see what kind of person she was. She, undoubtedly, loved the color pink. Her bed sheets, her curtains, and all of her towels and rugs were a dark shade of pink. On almost every square inch of her walls were pictures, posters, or other artsy objects. Near the back of her house, she had one room dedicated to her exercise equipment.
It was all heavy-duty looking. She had the pound marker set on four hundred pounds. I could smell her in the room. I could smell her in every room. I liked the way she smelt. It was like a mix of Kate Jasmine flowers and Irish Spring body wash. Her kitchen was absolutely amazing. She had big counters and two ovens stacked one on top of the other. Her refrigerator was stocked with Gatorades, water bottles, and a lot of fruits and vegetables.
She had a wide variety of spices and oils. I picked up a can of Lawry’s, my favorite spice. I was in love with her kitchen already. I wondered if she would be interested in tasting some of my homemade vegetable soup. I had to admit, I was a pretty awesome cook. Cooking was something I adored more than anything.
Without a second thought, I began pulling pots and utensils out of there safe keep and placed them on the stove. I pulled an armload of vegetables out of the refrigerator and sat them on her large counters. Potatoes, tomatoes, cabbage, carrots, onions, squash, and okra. She had all of the key ingredients to my vegetable soup.
After about thirty minutes, I had everything in a large pot boiling on the stove. It smelt just about as good as Sylvia did. Sylvia! I just started to remember her! I quickly jogged back to her bedroom to find her slowly moving around on her bed. She groaned something and held her head. “Oh my God, what a bad dream.” She said. She scratched through her hair and yawned. She stood up, met eyes with me and began to scream. “Who the hell are you and why the crap are you in my house?”
She fell back on her bed and scooted towards the headboard. “My name-,” I started. She grabbed something from under her pillow; a baseball bat. She lunged towards me with it and began to beat me. “Stop! Sylvia! Please! Ow!” I cried as I feel to my knees. “Hey!” she dropped the bat. He eyes were wide open. “Hey, you’re that guy from last night! Yeah! You’re that crazy guy that jumped off the lighthouse!” she pointed at me as if I had committed the biggest crime in the world. “Guilty.” I grunted holding on to my aching shoulder. “Wait a minute! If you jumped off the lighthouse, that means you’re...and I’m...Oh my God I’m dead!” The fear in her eyes was more frightening to me than anything else.
She bent down and grabbed onto my shirt collar. “I’m dead! You’re dead! We died at the same time and now we’re force to live out our spiritual lives together! Why does God hate me?” she shrieked. “Sylvia, if you just let me explain.” I tried to loosen from her but she had one hell of a hold. “Oh, why me? Why did I have to go and try to help you? Why did I have to die a virgin?” she started to cry her head off.
Although I felt bad because she thought she was dead, I found it quite amusing to watch her freak out. This is what they meant by all women are lunatics. I grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her until she met eyes with me. “Sylvia, you’re not dead.” I told her. She screwed her face up again and cocked her head to the side. “What?” she asked. “You’re not dead.” I repeated.
Her face soon began to relax and she let go of my shirt. She leaned her head against my chest and sighed. “So, I’m not dead?” she asked. “No, you’re just shaken, that’s all.” I replied. She pulled back and looked at me again. “Wow, I feel so stupid; how embarrassing.” I could see her cheeks grow bright red. She sat down on the edge of her bed and held her head again.
Then out of nowhere, she began to laugh. She was laughing so hard that tears started coming out of her eyes. I frowned at her. “What?” She held up her finger and shook her head. “Am I being Punk’d?” she asked. I raised an eyebrow in confusion. “If I’m being Punk’d, than I think I should let you know that I HATE reality TV shows. Who put you up to this? FRANCIA! Come on out! You too Ashton!” she cried. I knelt beside her. “Um, Sylvia, it’s just us. No one else is in the house.” She shook her head and laughed again.
“If I’m not being Punk’d then how do you explain us both surviving a fifteen hundred drop from a lighthouse? Explain that to me.” She demanded. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I had the most serious face on.” I said. She looked really pissed and confused just then. “Why are you in my house in the first place?” she looked at me with disgust. “I wanted to make sure that you were alright and also I’m a tourist and I don’t know my way around.” I answered trying not to look at her angry eyes.
“There’s a hotel on every street, though. And why wouldn’t I be alright? I mean, it’s not like I fell off of a lighthouse and died or anything like that.” I could tell exactly what she was trying to do. She was using her manipulative woman powers to make me feel terrible inside.
“How did we survive?” she crossed her arms. “I landed on my feet.” I looked at her carpet and her carpet only. “Mmm-hmm. That’s impossible.” She scoffed. “Humans can’t survive a fall like that unless they have a parachute, a harness, or a giant trampoline at the bottom. I’m still waiting for that explanation.” She tapped her foot. “You won’t believe me.” I sighed. “Try me.” She grabbed my face and caught my eyes.
“Alright.” I stood up and shoved my hands in my pockets. “Still waiting.” She said. How annoying, I thought to myself. “We survived the fall because I landed on my feet. I landed on my feet because...because I’m a...because I’m a werewolf.” I didn’t want to see her face after she heard what I had said. She started laughing again. “You expect me to believe that? What are you three? Werewolves don’t exist.” She stood up laughing her butt off.
“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.” I frowned at her. “How can I? You’re telling me that you’re a werewolf? Ooh! Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? Not me, you stupid psycho! Get out of my house!” she yelled. “Let me prove it to you.” I needed her to believe me. “Prove it? Fine. Prove it.” I started to walk towards the bedroom door. “And don’t even think about turning into a wolf. They have to follow the lunar cycle.” I turned and shot a hurt look at her. “I wasn’t going to try. I was a wolf last night.”
I scratched my head and thought. What if I jump from the lighthouse again? “Come with me.” I said. I could hear her scoff and laugh behind me as we left her house. “I still don’t know my way around, so you’ll have to help me find the lighthouse again.” I told her. She, obviously, was amused at seeing me fail at my attempt to prove to her that I was a werewolf, but I would have the last laugh.
Tourists wouldn’t dare climb the stairs of the lighthouse at four in the morning so we had all the privacy that I needed. Once we were at the top she shouted at me. “Now, prove to me that you’re a werewolf and if you are, I’ll let you live in my house for the rest of your life.” She crossed her arms and gave me a smirk. She was so insistent on proving me wrong. I shook my head at her and smiled. “Ready to chicken out?” she asked. “Ready for a new roommate?” I retorted.
I looked below to see if there were any tourists nearby. None. They were all on the beach. I climbed on the railing and stared at the flat rocks far away. Maybe a stretch of twenty-five feet. I sure hoped I still had my excitement built up. “I’m waiting?” She said in a sing song manner. I took a deep breath. The early morning sun created a few beads of sweat on my brow.
I could feel the excitement dying off so I had to be quick. In a move as quick as the flash of lightening I found my self gliding through the air. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Sylvia’s face when I got back. I landed hard on the balls of my feet as I tried to catch my balance. I turned around to face the light house. Sylvia was now a tiny little stick standing on the top of the light house with her little stick arms on top of her head.
Even from a far, I could make out the dumbfounded look that overcame her normal expression. I took a minute and walked around spreading out my arms as if to say to her, “What then?” I couldn’t waste anymore time standing around bragging to her. I had to jump back to the lighthouse before I had to walk back.
I had more space out here so I decided to play with her. I took off in a slow jog. After a few seconds I picked up the pace. I was moving so fast that the ground below me seemed to vanish. I came upon the lighthouse in just seconds. I leapt for the base and as soon as my hands felt the brick-like material I forced my self to climb up. It felt so great to be free like this but it would only last for a little while. I neared the railing and in one more attempt to impress her. I grabbed onto the bottom bar and flung myself up so I could land back on the top of the railing.
I jumped down on to the floor with a loud thud. My chest was an inferno. It was like someone had to beat the air down into my lungs. I was completely covered in sweat now as I held onto my knees trying to breathe. I looked up at Sylvia from under my stray strands of sweaty hair. “So,” I said. I straightened up and used the back of my hand to wipe the sweat from my eyes. “When do I move in?”

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