Without a Sound

(Charlotte's P.O.V.)

A few days passed with the same pattern. I would wake up, Mikey would give me blood, I'd bite him, take a shower, and eat. Then sometimes we would watch a movie, and other times I would go right back to bed.

After maybe about a week, I woke up in the middle of the day. Although the blinds were closed, sunlight brightened the pink and purple room. At first I didn't know what woke me up, but then I heard it. The noise was coming from Mikey's room. He was tossing and turning in his bed; I felt the movement of his blood. Was he havning a nightmare?

As quietly as I could, I pulled the blankets off of me and got out of bed. I was definately stronger now. I could walk without a problem, and I didn't ache the day after. I was perfectly steady when I was standing, too.

On my way to the door, I passed the mirror. I was starting to look human. I was still on the skinny side, but I didn't look skeletal anymore. It had to be all the food Mikey was giving me.

I crept stealthily to my door, opened it, and entered the hall. It took only a few steps for me to be right in front of Mikey's door. I turned the door knob so slowly that I barely felt myself moving. I opened the door a crack, cringing when it squeaked, but he didn't wake up. I leaned against the door frame, only able to see through the tiny opening with one eye.

Mikey was thrashing around in his bed, sweating. I was instantly worried because I knew he must have been having a terrible nightmare. I thought about going to wake him up, but I wasn't sure if that was a good idea.

Suddenly he shot up, breathing heavily. Were those tears or drops of sweat running down his cheeks? It was difficult to tell. Before I could really figure it out, he wiped them away. Still panting, he ran his hands through his damp hair.

He let out a long, exhausted sigh, putting his face in his hands. Then he got up and stumbled to his dresser. He picked up a glass of water that was already waiting there for him, gulped it down, and then looked at himself disapprovingly in the mirror.

His eyes were too red and puffy for me to pass off the wetness on his face as sweat. The fact that he had been crying, even in his sleep, scared me half to death. Whenever he was with me, he was always so strong and brave.

With a shaky hand, he opened one of the drawers in his dresser and pulled something out. It was a picture frame: the only one I had ever seen in his house so far. He blew dust off of it and studied it carefully for a long time.

After he carefully placed the picture frame back in the drawer, he turned back to his bed. Then he froze in mid-step.

He must have sensed my blood, because he whipped around to look at me. For a split second he looked alarmed, but then that sweet smile spread across his sad face. I could tell it wasn't forced, either. He was genuinely happy to see me.

I opened his door wider, not smiling back. I was worried about him. This wasn't the first sign I had seen that there was something he was hiding from me, but it was the first major one that really pointed to something. Especially the tears. People like Mikey didn't cry unless they had a reason to.

We stood there awkwardly for a little bit before he apologized, "Sorry. Did I wake you up?"

I shrugged. It was no big deal. I wasn't tired. I let my concern fill my eyes and ask my question for me. Was he okay?

He beckoned for me to come sit on the couch in his room with him. I walked over to him slowly, not sure what to expect. It was going to be hard to have a conversation with him, considering I still couldn't talk. I sat next to him on the cool black leather and waited.

"Are you hungry?" he asked hopefully.

Glaring at him, I shook my head, even though I was always hungry. This wasn't the time to be worrying about food.

He sighed and mumbled, "It was worth a try." When he put an arm around my shoulders, he said, "I'm sorry I woke you up. I have nightmares sometimes."

I looked up at him, urging him to continue.

"I have nightmares all the time," he admitted. "Sometimes they're worse than others, but they always seem so real." His eyes unfocused, and an expression of horror came over his face.

He shook his head as if trying to get rid of the thoughts in it, and then smiled at me again. "Next time I'm having a nightmare and I wake you up, just come on in and wake me up, okay?"

In other words, he was telling me not to spy on him from outside the door. Okay, so I did feel guilty about that, but I wasn't sorry. I was finally getting some information. I nodded reluctantly, knowing my limited vocabulary (which was virtually no vocabulary) meant I couldn't prompt him to tell me more.

I knew there were things I wanted to know, though. I wanted to know what kind of nightmares he had, why he had them, and what was on the picture that he kept in his dresser and had been untouched for so long it was dusty. I couldn't look now, but I could later, when he was gone.

Mikey got up and pulled some clothes out of a drawer. It was then that I noticed he was wearing only boxers, and I was embarrased again. I think he saw me blush, but he decided to ignore it. Then he pulled me up and took me to the kitchen, where he made me breakfast. When we were done eating, it was still light out.

"I have an idea," he said when he finished cleaning the dishes. "Let's go outside."

I smiled at him. I'd been waiting for this for a while now. I remembered how everything was supposed to look under the sun, and I'd seen it in the movies, but I never actually remembered seeing it with my own eyes.

"I knew you'd like that idea," he replied smugly. "Besides, you're too pale not to go out in the sun every once and a while. It would be a crime not to. And you're also strong enough to walk by yourself now.

Yet he still didn't let me walk down the stairs, even though I was sure I could do it. Anyways, I followed him to a door in the back of the kitchen that led to the backyard.

When he opened the door, I couldn't help but gasp. Everything was so vibrant and colorful! It must've been spring, because the huge garden we walked out to was just blooming. There were flowers and bushed of every color, arranged artfully. The cobblestone pathway wound through the greenery and around a beautiful fountain that a stone bench sat in front of.

Mikey grabbed my hand and took me to the bench, grinning. He seemed to be pleased with my reaction. We sat on the bench for a long time. Mikey pointed out different flowers and plants and told me their names. However, I already knew the name of my favorite: the red rose.

Roses were just so beautiful, with their layers of velvety petals. But no matter how pretty and smooth the actual flower was, the bush itself was full of nasty thorns. Roses sort of reminded me of myself.

What I liked even more than the beauty of the garden was its smell. Every time a breeze blew, a new fragrance drifted to my nose. It was overwhelming.

Too soon, though, it started to get dark. But with the approach of dusk came a new sight: the sunset. Mikey sat close to me on the bench while I watched in awe as the sky changed from blue to pink to orange and then finally to grey.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Mikey whispered into my ear.

I nodded enthusiastically. This might have replaced the moon as the most beautiful thing I'd seen, second only to his face, which was still winning by far. I'd never tell him that, though, even if I could talk.

At long last, the chill of the night forced us to go inside. Mikey set me up with a movie and said he'd be back in a few hours. Just like that, he was gone, and I was alone.

Now I could do some investigating.