#themischievousgrin

its so beautiful :’)

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It was everything she would have ever wanted.  Sometimes.  Other times, she wanted nothing but for the one person she loved most to drop off the face of the earth.

That was the funny thing with living with someone else.  Apart, you could get along great with someone.  But together in a little apartment that was already too small for one person… Inviting someone else into your home.  What was she thinking?

“Chester.  Were you snooping around in my room again?”

“Alice.  Were you trying to hide drugs again?”

She could just kill him.  Why did he always have to prod in her business?  Why did it matter to him what she was doing in her spare time?  Stupid cat.  Stupid boy.  God fucking damnit all to hell in a hand basket frozen over on fire—

Alice didn’t realize she was on the ground until he came over to hold her shaking body still against him.  She didn’t realize she was crying until he wiped her tears away.  When she looked up at him and saw that smile, she knew why she had invited him to stay.

“You’ll make it through this.  You’ll get better.  I promise.”

So after years of searching I finally found that cat again.  It’s nice seeing his smile.  I feel a little more complete.  I wonder if he knows just how much I’ve changed since we last crossed paths.  If he does, he doesn’t show it.  Surely he would leave me high and dry again. 

…I wonder if he knows how much he means to me.  Silly, really.  He’s just a cat.  But he’s so much more than that.  Does he know?  I wonder if I mean the same to him.  I wonder what would become of it.  I wonder what would become of us.  Nonsense questions that will likely never receive a serious answer.

Busy as ever, Graham all but gave up on sleep. What few moments he had were spent in his study between lectures and the strained scenes of madness as it seeped from the world around him and poisoned the lives of the masses. Panic. It spread a sort of panic that was like a slow sickness. A brief touch of the madness and a week later, the exposed were dropping like flies into fits of panic with a new need to escape.

Psychological turmoil and a dash of panic was what nearly made the economy crash after 9/11. People lost faith in their money. Fear spread far, money was withdrawn, the economy suffered. Money was not for the faint of heart. Although, this was a different faint of heart than what many people would consider faint of heart. Graham dealt with true faint of heart--blood and guts and psychopaths and murderers--but cared very little about his pay. Numbers were numbers. Happiness was measured in--who cared about happiness?--Justice. Justice was measured in the end result, not the steps to reach it.

After twenty minutes of a fruitless attempt to grade the papers that he assigned, Graham drifted into a blank-eyed daze. In his mind, however, he finished at least three papers. A noise distracted him. In what became a dream, he turned his head to investigate the noise and blinked slowly.