I pick up a knife in the kitchen, and feel around the sharp blade. Maybe death isn`t so bad. I could see mom again and my grandmother. I`d never shed another tear, never be abused or hurt, never be lied to again. What gets better than that? I bring the knife up to my heart and smile.
"I`m coming, mom." I whisper as I bring back the knife to stab into my aching heart.
I wake up gasping. Immediately I turn the light on, touching my arms and rubbing my hands together, am I dead? No. It was just a dream, just a twisted bad dream. I turn the light back off and climb into bed, I don`t know how or when, but soon enough my eyes are closed, my breathing is slow and steady and I`m drifting off to sleep.
..........................
I awaken to the smell of sausage, confused I get out of bed and walk upstairs to the kitchen. The officer, who I learned was named Ken, is standing in the kitchen flipping sausages and plating them. Next to that, is a pile of pancakes, chocolate chip actually.
"Good morning." He says, gently. "I thought since you were so kind as to let me stay here for the night, I`d make breakfast... It`s the least I can do." He smiles softly.
"Oh, thank you. I appreciate it," I say.
He just smiles in response. "They`ll be here to pick you up at 1:00 in case you forgot." He finishes plating everything, and we sit down. We eat in silence, and when we`re done, I help him clean up the dishes.
"Do you want to talk about anything? Doesn`t have to be about what happened if you don`t want." He says.
"You know about me-roughly- so what about you? Wife? Kids? Stuff you like to do?" Such a casual conversation I tell myself... So strange, but sometimes strange isn`t bad.
"Ah, yes, I have a wife... No kids, we can`t have our own, unfortunately. Uhm well I like cooking." He says.
"Me too. I used to help my mom cook all the time. I remember my first time using a mixer... Lets just say it didn`t go well." He laughs and inspite of everything, I`m myself smiling.