Giselle

I think I ruptured my spleen. What a wonderful thought to start my morning with.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I forced myself to sit up. Soreness spread through my entire body. I was moving like a lady in a really tight corset. The bigger than my fist, colorful bruise that formed under my ribs played a great factor in my extremely straight posture.

Wait, is the spleen on the left or the right? Recalling the long forgotten biology classes, where a spleen was located didn't come to mind. Well, wherever it was –I'm sure it hurt.

Building the will to get off bed, I began to heave out, but halted mid-breath. Breathing hurt, sitting hurt, lying down hurt and even walking hurt.

Why am I holding back crying out? I live alone for heaven's sake!

On that note, I let my voice out as I hauled myself to stand, "Oooooowe!"

The bag of peas that I used as a cold compress was all mushed in my hand. "Owe. Owe. Owe. Owe," more grunts accompanied my steps as I trudged to the kitchen to put the bag in the fridge.

Split-peas soup for diner it is.

My mind was still foggy from the horrible sleep I had. Fatigue and exhaustion pulled me out of the haze of whatever terrifying thing happened yesterday. However, nightmares of wrathful glowing amber eyes had me jolting awake, right before the splitting pain punched me right back to dream land.

The shower I took reminded of the burning scrape on my elbow and a few more bruises and scratches became visible against my skin. "That would add color to a girl's life," I joked then regretted when I tried to laugh.

I cleaned, dried and bandaged the best I could.

Surrendering giving my hair a proper brush, I settled for the messiest bun ever achieved. I put on a black T-shirt under and topped it with a hoodie, since my favorite jacket was ruined; then finished with a pair of jeans that hung below my waist. I couldn't stand anything around my middle.

There was no time to wallow; I had a coffee house to run and costumers to serve.

Leaving the apartment, my heart was shaking the entire way. This time, I was a hundred percent certain that I hadn't imagined what happened. There was no way in hell I had built that in my mind. I wasn't nor had I ever been that creative. I never even had an imaginary friend when I was a kid. I remained vigilant until I reached the coffee house.

"Why are you here?" Mike griped the minute I walked through the door. "Didn't I say come in late?"

I nodded, "You did."

He placed the tray he was carrying on the closest table so that he could cross his arms, "And?"

Walking passed him to the small lockers where we kept our things, "and I didn't."

Mike fumed and followed me. "You really need to learn how to rest. You know that you made absolutely no sense yesterday, right?"

"I know!" I bit as I flung my bag and phone in the locker and wincing in progress.

I wasn't making any sense to myself either. However, I lifted my hoodie and t-shirt high enough to show him the only evidence. "Then explain this?"

Mike's brow pinch as his head jerked back. He blinked a couple of times before bending over for a closer examination and his eyes widened.

"Damn," he exclaimed straightening up. "That must hurt!"

"This is what I've been saying." I fixed my clothes and grunted when I accidently bumped the bruise with my fist.

The continuous stabs of pain were getting on my nerves and in return, I took it on the locker's door when I slammed it.

"There're some weird things happening to me that I can't explain and I'm this close..." I pinched a thumb and an index leaving a quarter of an inch between them, "to losing my mind."

Seeing that I was on the verge of snapping, Mike had his palms up. "I believe you," he started and them he put his hands on my shoulders to calm me. "Why don't we have you seated first?"

I let him guide me to the nearest chair and he watched me carefully and slowly lowering myself.

"Did you have breakfast yet?" He asked and then twisted his lips and rolled his eyes when I looked away. "Of course you didn't. Don't move."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to." I tried to joke. I was feeling a tad better now that I dumped a bucket-load of frustration.

Mike scoffed and walked away to the counters, "I guess you'll pull through if you're cracking jokes."

I wanted to chuckle, but that was a hard pass. Within a few minutes, a warm turkey and Swiss cheese croissant was placed in front of me, followed by a cup of frothy cappuccino.

I was about to object, but Mike was faster.

"Shut up and eat," he blocked my attempt. "There will be none of that day-old BS today. You're going to eat well and rest. I'll handle things. Kapeesh?" He glared down at me and ordered, "Now eat."

"Okay mom." I huffed rolling my eyes.

He grinned and returned to work.

I picked the tomatoes off my croissant and took a big bite. Apparently, I was hungry too. My mood shifted noticeably and the fog that clouded my mind began to clear out. The cappuccino gave me just the right kick. I cleared out my plate and drained my cup pretty fast.

The problem now was, a clear mind wasn't the best thing because I kept ruminating on what happened. My eyes couldn't stop drifting to the table where the strange elderly man sat. Cold chills glissando up and down my spine like a piano every time I did.

I was sure he said: This changes everything?

My gaze shifted to where I saw him the first time and sudden idea popped in my head. I jumped to my feet and dashed out. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered Mike calling my name, but I was too focused to stop or listen. I marched across the street, right to where Tobias stood in front of his shop giving away coupon for a free small coffee.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wilbur," I called out.

He turned around with the biggest, fakest smile a man could put on. "The hell you want?" He grumbled through his teeth once he saw me. "I don't have time to chitchat, unlike you I have customers."

And just like that, he switched his attention to his coupons and left me fuming and glaring at his back.

Oh no you didn't!

I rounded him to stand right in his face. He had no way other than talking to me. Hearing his compressed snarl and watching his nostrils flare gave me a tiny sinful satisfaction.

What might appear to others as a friendly conversation between two shop owners was everything but that.

"Go away little girl." Tobias Wilbur whisper-barked at me, but beamed when handing a coupon to the person walking behind me.

"Or what? You'll manhandle me the same way you did the old man yesterday?" I dared, but kept my voice low.

Despite my personal opinion on Wilbur's personality, trashing his reputation was cheap shot. "What you did was uncalled for and rude," I called him out on his actions,

He pulled another piece of the small pile in his grasp for another customer, "The heck you're talking about?"

Is he kidding me? I silently screeched in disbelief.

"What do you mean- the heck I'm talking about? That homeless man you shoved away and tossed his cart!" I whisper-yelled.

My brow knitted as I stared him in eye, trying to read any sort of recollection or acknowledgment. To my bewilderment, he remained a blank sheet.

Instead, Wilbur features twisted and his fraudulent smile dropped. He bowed his head which brought his pissed expression and bad breath closer to my face. I refused to shrink away or attempt to make a nervous swallow motion.

"You listen here, little girl," Wilbur hissed, "I don't know what you're aiming at with you accusations, but I would advise you to get the hell out of my face."

He's serious! My brain found it impossible to process. He wasn't lying!

Maintaining my stand I glared back, while I buried my confusion for the time being to delve when I was alone. Tough for Wilbur, I never was the one to scare easily or buckle under.

"Whatever!" I raved and tried one last time, "if you don't want to help the less-fortunate, just send them my way. I'll be more than happy to share what I have."

Tobias Wilbur straightened looking down on me and an obnoxious smirk pulled his grayish thin lips. "I'm not sure what you wish to harvest by spouting nonsense, but I'll do that."

Frankly, I was surprised that he affably complied; ever so briefly though. Merely because he hadn't finished yet.

His voice dripped with arrogance, "After all, hobos and homeless are more fitting to be your customers." The ridicule and mockery were unmistakable in his voice. "And since you don't have any to start with, I'm sure you have a lot of... goods to give away."

This... this... In my furry, I failed to come up with proper swearwords to mentally lash at him.

"Take this." He waved one of coupons in front of my face. "Judging by how you're running your business, you'll need a free cup of coffee very soon."

Stupefied, I stared at him. My blood ran hot in my veins and I almost snapped. Spending a night or two in jail would be absolutely worth it.

Instead, I put on my finest smile and spoke in the sweetest voice, "Why don't you keep it."

And choke on it! The rest of my curse rolled in my head.

I took a step aside and strode back to my store and silently walked to the storage room. The space was tight for me to pace, so I ended waking in circles. My head was about to explode from all the jumbling thoughts and resentment.

"What happened out there?" Mike asked the minute he joined me.

I snapped, "That egotistical, narcissistic, materialistic, ethicless, disrespectful, spineless, greedy jerk don't remember what he did yesterday!"

Now the adjectives roll in!

My frustration was building up and I could feel it pushing against my brain. I was giving myself a migraine and the breathing exercise was hurting me more than helping to calm down.

Mike looked puzzled too, "What he did, you mean the homeless man?"

"Yes, the homeless man!" I growled.

"Wh-o vanished?" He added with a stretch.

"Yes!" I seethed.

Mike held his hands up. "Okay, okay... I'm just trying to understand."

Now was the time to dig out my confusion. Halting my pacing, I stared into nothing. "Wilbur didn't seem like he had some sort of memory loss."

"No," I contradicted with myself. "He acted like it never happen."

I shook my head when I recalled his expression and my feet started to pace again. "No, no, he wasn't acting. He was genuinely muddled when I brought it up."

What the hell was going on?

My head jerked to Mike and I found him looking at me like I've grown a second nose. "Don't look at me like I've lost my marbles! And say something!"

His mouth opened and closed a few times making gargled noises while his hands floated in the air in random motions.

A few seconds of watching that, I scorned in derision and rolled my eyes, "Whoa there, buddy. Don't strain your voice."

That granted me an exasperated sigh and hands on hips. "Seriously, when I'm trying to help you?"

"I'm sorry." I shrank and hit the brakes on my temper, but I didn't hit it hard enough. "It's not like you were saying anything useful or at all," I mumbled, yet not low enough.

Mike cleared his throat and I instantaneously apologized again.

"Can it be that Wilbur was pretending?" Mike asked.

I shook my head. "I very much doubt he is that great of an actor. The man had no recollection at all."

He raked his brain. "Then, another explanation will be that..."

"That I'm losing my marbles." I put my own words in his mouth and he flinched.

"I, I didn't say that..." Mike stumbled, but paused when he heard the desk bell announcing we had a customer. He turned to me but I was already motioning him to go.

Customers come first; and then my mental health. Maybe not right after, but somewhere in the top ten.

My fingers massaged the gathering headache that was forming behind my eyes. I desperately wanted to rely on logic, but none seemed to apply to my current situation.

I heard the door pop open and my head whirled to Mike.

He handed me the first-aid kit and a bottle of water. "Apply ointment on that bruise and take a couple of painkillers."

"Thank you." I smiled back and then informed him, "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't worry about it." He dismissed my words. "I have everything under control." And then he closed the door.

I gently applied a generous layer of creamy substance. The light sting came shortly after. If this thing worked on bruises as well as it did on burns, I couldn't tell, but it sure was doing something.

Tying my apron around my waist was a reminder to take it slow. It wasn't like I could take the day off anyway. Breaks and vacations were luxuries I simply couldn't afford.

Today is going to be a good day. I hyped up myself.

With that semi-positive attitude I returned the aid kit, grabbed my notepad and pen and joined Mike.

Focus on making coffee. I advised myself while grinding our perfectly roasted coffee beans. I just need to keep my head in the game and concentrate on work.

Keeping busy with customers – however few they were- did help, but as the sun began to descend my nerves and stomach sank along with it. The 'what if he came back?' question repeated in my head.

Growing anxious, my eyes darted to the street outside; the night had begun to spread its curtains. Not seeing anyone that resembled that homeless man brought me no peace. I wasn't sure if I was scared, agitated or simply uncomfortable. Then all that got scattered away when I saw it.

"Aww..." I uttered. "Mike, come look!"

Mike was crouching beside me stacking bags of coffee beans. "What?" he asked without lifting his head.

"It's that husky from the other day." The cute thing was looking right at me.

Mike popped up to his feet like a gopher and eagerly asked, "Where?" His head swerved left and right.

I chuckled over how typical Mike was. There wasn't a time he searched for something and found it. "He's right there, dummy." I pointed to where the dog sat across the street under the light pole.

"I can't see him," Mike argued.

"What do you mean you can't see him?" Glancing at my blind friend here, I dragged him by the arm and placed him where I stood. Then peeked from behind him and extended index finger. "He is right th..."

My lips clamped. Leaving Mike, I passed to the window with eyes wandering up and down the street.

He's gone.

Mike approached and swiped the street too. "Darn it! I didn't see him this time too," he huffed with disappointment.

"Maybe he knew that if you saw him – you'll take him home with you," I tried to hide my gathering concerns with a joke.

Mike laughed, "Damn right I'm taking him home!" He searched one last time before returning to work.

Dogs can be really quick, right? That's why Mike couldn't see it. The thought of that was more comforting than the angst squirming inside me.

Just focus on work. I repeated to myself.

"Hey, are you alright?" Mike asked when he was returning the broom to its place. "You look kind of pale."

I was rearranging the pieces of chocolate cake on their display shelf and restacking the strawberry shortcake line. "I'm fine and I'm usually pale."

"I meant pale-r," he cleared out and then chuckled when I gave him a dirty look. "You should go home and rest. I can close up here."

My head was already moving left and right, but Mike kept going.

"You're telling me that you don't wish you were snuggled in that ugly coach of yours, in front of T.V, with a nice cup of hot coco and a bag of chips?" He smirked.

"Hey! Don't call my coach ugly!" I protested, "it's not ugly, that's character."

"Say all what you want, that thing is still hideous," Mike murmured, but I heard him.

"It's cozy, snuggly and comfortable, what more could a girl need." I sighed.

That thing might be the best purchase I've ever made, even better than my bed.

Mike's head bobbed. "Now that you're daydreaming about it, go, rest."

"I can't leave you take the full load by yourself. It isn't far to you and I most certainly don't pay enough to overwork you," I argued without pausing what I was doing and moved on to the bagels.

He rolled his eyes and got all cocky. "No matter how much you have, you'll neverrrr be able to pay me enough." He let the 'R's roll a tad longer to prove a point.

I snorted and bit back at him, "And yet, here you are!"

His fake hurt-feeling expression made me laugh. Then I continued, "Plus, I can't leave you handle all the customers by yourself."

Scanning the store first, Mike jeered and jutted an arm out, "We have like two customers!"

Stretching my neck, I saw that there was exactly that many.

"I promise to maintain the coffee house exactly how you left and not burn it to the ground; Scout's honor." He even saluted accordingly.

I stared at him for a minute. The thought was incredibly tempting, especially after the painkillers had worn off long ago. And a hot cup of cocoa sounded heavenly.

Getting to my feet, I handed Mike the tongs.

"Don't forget to take out the trash. Clean the steam wands and turn off the machines. Don't forget to close the back door and be careful not to cut your hand on that latch." The list poured out of my mouth.

Mike rolled his eyes, but I wouldn't shut up nor give him the chance to sneak in a single word.

When I was done, he just gestured for me to stand there and went to retrieve my stuff from the locker and held them by the door. It was a clear 'get out!' message.

"Text me when you get home," Mike enjoined then he rushed me out with a quick, "Good bye." And shut the door behind me before I could say a thing.

I gave him my meanest glare through the window, but he just signaled me to keep walking.

Fine, I'm leaving! And began to head home.

I didn't allow any of my previous worries take over and kept them pushed down and focused on envisioning my time on the couch with a book and blanket.

I was drawling dreamily. I think I have some of those cooki...

A sharp gasp tore out of my throat as I leapt off my path when something touched my hand. My head jerked to my left to see what the heck that was while my heart pounded in my chest.

A happy yelp and big brown eyes looked up at me. It was the same husky, again.

"Oh my god, you gave me quite a scare there," I exhaled with shaking nerves and a hand over my heart.

He gave me a low whimper and his ears drooped a little. That pinched me right in the conscious. I could have sworn right then and there that he understood me.

"Aww, I didn't say I wasn't happy to see you," I cooed in baby-talk. I crouched to scratch behind his ears; feeling delighted with his amiable behavior and wagging tail.

He was just a big, black, fluffy ball of furry happiness. "Aren't you just the cutest thing ever? Who's a good boy?"

This was the best thing that happened to me today and I couldn't stop petting him. I envied those people with pets.

Allowing myself one more minute of playtime, I reluctantly climbed to my feet when a cold breeze tickled my neck. "As much as I'm enjoying this, I should go. Stay safe, sweet boy."

I barely made it a few steps away when I felt the husky's snout nudging my hand. Mirthful giggles bubbled in my chest as I saw him trot around me and then playfully run ahead of me. He would wait until I reached him, then run and stop.

"Hey, where are you going?" I asked. "I can't take you home with me, buddy." The last was said half-heartedly.

I'm talking to a dog, and in public. My own sarcasm spoke to me. Way to preserve what was left of my brain.

I didn't care if I looked like a lunatic; I was happy. "I don't have a place for anything bigger than a fish," I continued, "or maybe a turtle."

He made a noise that sounded a lot like a scoff, and if possible he shook his head.

As we gotten closer, he ran off and climbed the stairs that led to my small studio apartment. He stopped in front of my door and then barked looking at me.

I stood there, puzzled. I knew dogs had a good sense of smell, but was it that good? Not only that, the entire walk this dog seemed like he was leading the way, as if he knew exactly where I was living.

Nah, that's crazy. I dismissed.

"I can't let you inside," I had my keys out as I climbed to the small landing. Patting his head, I told him, "I think I have a nice snack for you. Wait... no... um... stay!"

Leaving him out, I slipped inside and rushed to the fridge to fetch out some leftover fried chicken. Deciding quickly between heating it up or not, I went with popping it in the microwave for a few minutes.

No one likes cold chicken and I couldn't imagine that dogs would either. I used that time to carefully take off my hoodie and send a text to my other mom, Mike.

I placed the chicken piece on a paper plate and prayed that he was still there. Stepping into the living room, I almost made it to the door when I was jolted in an abrupt halt with a sharp inhale. The plate slipped out of my hand sending the treat I was carrying skidding along the floor.

"Wh... H, how?" I stammered. My heart was beating in a speed that could only be measured by horse power.

He was inside my apartment. Sitting on his hind legs by the couch and looking at me.

But I closed the door. And I glanced to check.

"H, how did you get in?" Killed by 'man's best friend' whipped my thoughts as I stared at him.

"Took you long enough," a strong voice spoke.

A petrified scream ripped out of my throat and I leapt back slamming into the book shelves behind me knocking down a few. My widened eyes darted to where I thought the source was.

Completely immersed in sheer darkness, despite the turned on lights, someone lurked there. The thundering of my heart echoed loudly in my ears as all my vigor drained out of my body and the blood froze in my veins.

A pair of blazing gold orbs glared at me.