Energizer

eleven

"No, tell me now, this isn't going to be a story for another day," I said whil glaring at Marcus from the porch. I knew this feeling in my stomach had to be something bad.
"Alright, you really wanna know?" Marcus spoke quietly, and sighed loudly afterwards.
He stood up, walking onto the porch with me.
He looked me in the eyes, speaking softly, "You'll find out in a few weeks."
My eyes widened at his response, which was not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear the whole truth.
"Tell me. The truth. All of it. You make me feel anxious sometimes," I looked at the ground while I spoke, looking up briefly to find Marcus crying. Full blown crying on my porch.
"What? You alright?" I pulled him into a hug, because I hate when people cry. He rested his head on my shoulder, speaking through soft sobs, "I'm supposed to marry her."
A sign of relief shot through my body and I nodded in acknowledgement.
Marcus continued talking, "My parents set this up for me, they got sick of me not dating anyone and I had to see this girl for two years and pretend I love her. I hate her. I like you, I like men. I can't tell her or my parents that," Marcus was still sobbing into my shirt.
"It'll be okay. You can call off the wedding, I'm sure," I said with a bit of optimism.
I'm horrible at advice. Usually, people just get mad at what I say when I'm trying to help.
"What?!" Marcus pulled away, "I can't just go and call off the wedding! Then what?!" He looked at me with his glossy eyes, wiping them on his arm.
"Then, you tell your parents the truth," I sternly said. I took the bottom of my shirt, wiping his eyes. "I'm too nervous of what will happen. Do your parents know?"
I shook my head.
"What? Didnt you date that other guy before?" He was starting to calm down, the tears staining his cheek.
"I kept it a secret. It was very hard, but he was a slut basically making rounds door to door so I had a reason to break it off and stop hiding. My parents think I've been single my whole life," with that comment, I smirked. Marcus held his head in his hands, exhaling deeply once again, "I'm just so stressed. I'm going to leave you alone, now. I'm sorry about everything," He stepped off my porch, "I should have never met you."
He started walking back to his house on the end.
I debated whether or not I should even ask about the money. Ordinary people probably wouldn't have noticed the money. I knew he was hiding something about that, too.
I walked back inside and sat down at my desk, placing a fresh canvas in front of me.
I opened the tubes of fresh paint that have been sitting for too long, mixing colors with my paintbrush. I let my mind take over.
A few hours had passed, and the rain slammed down onto my windows once again, making the view blur. My phone went off throughout the afternoon, but I didn't even bother to get up and look. Instead, I kept painting.
The doorbell rang.
I wonder which lunatic even went outside in this weather to come see me. My brush dropped onto the table, my body reluctantly moving towards the door shortly afterwards.
"Hi Marcus,"I pulled open the door, letting him inside, wet clothes and all.
"Don't mean to, uh, ruin your carpet or anything," he grinned awkwardly.
Marcus stood still in one spot, placing his hands behind his back.
"I don't mind. Why did you come to see me again?" My question made him chuckle, and he apprehensively looked around before speaking, "I wanted to say sorry for dumping that story on you about the whole.. marriage. I should of told you when we first met."
I shrugged and tried to meet my eyes with his, but they were wandering so much I couldn't catch them, "It would have been nice to know sooner."
I scratched the top of my head and hoped he wasn't going to get mad.
"I'm sorry again. I kind of have to do this marriage thing. For my family, of course. You can come, if you'd like," Marcus pulled a wrinkly, wet, and quite small invitation from his pocket. I slowly opened the fold, reading the text inside.
"I'm happy for you, I guess," I tried to smile. I also tried to find a small bit of happiness in the deep dark corners of my body, but I couldn't.
"I like you. Somehow, I wish I was marrying you, and not some girl I was forced to 'like'," Marcus said and half smiled, then turned around to leave as he looked at the floor.
The door closed.
All that was left were the two wet shoeprints on my carpet.
I carried the invitation into my kitchen, hanging it on the fridge. I knew I had to go, even if it killed me.

The next morning, two missed calls from Kat appeared on my phone. I must have been in a really deep sleep. The rain definitely helped.
I proceeded to grab my phone off the floor, trying to balance my reach off the bed so I wouldn't land next to it on the floor, too.
The dial tone rang while I waited for Kat to answer.
"Hello? Ari! So glad you called back."
"Yeah, no problem. Did you need something?" The reception started to break into a fuzzy blur,
"We can deliver the painting in two days, right?"
I barely made out what she said, but I agreed anyway,
"We sure can."
I briefly heard her say thank you before the line dropped silent. I glanced over at the painting for Maya, which was propped up against my bedroom window. While I examined it, my phone started to vibrate once again.
"Uh, hi?" My voice this morning was crackly and altered due to allergies.
"Can I go to the hospital with you while you deliever the painting you mentioned before?"
Marcus said, hopeful.
"What? Don't ask me," I responded. I didn't really know if he could come along or not.
"No, no, I don't want to go with you while you deliever it. I want to turn myself into the mental ward," He said, once again, a little to cheerfully.
"You're crazy! You do-" My voice was cut off,
"I am crazy. That's the problem," Marcus was blunt as he spoke.
"No you're not.."
I was no therapist, so I gave up early on talking him through this one.
"No, Ari, I really am crazy. I need help, soon."
He hung up.

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