Without a Sound

Mikey was waiting right outside the bathroom door, just as he had promised. “Feeling better?” he asked cheerfully.

I nodded, smiling.

“Good,” he replied, satisfied. “Now, how about we go down to the kitchen and get you some food?”

I pulled my eyebrows together. Sure, I missed the taste of food, but why would I need it? All I wanted to swallow was blood. I had to make an effort not to shudder when that thought crossed my mind.

“I know you’re probably too thirsty to feel hungry, but you could use some food,” he explained. “Our bodies don’t need food to live. Well, your existence proves that we don’t really need anything to stay alive. Blood, food, water… those are all just conveniences, but they definitely can’t hurt you.”

I suppose I sort of understood, but it still didn’t make perfect sense to me. If food was only a convenience, then why did he want me to eat it?

Reading my expression perfectly, Mikey said, “Even if you aren’t hungry, food might at least, er, put some meat on your bones. God, when I look at you I feel like I’ve neglected you.

I frowned. It was wrong for him to feel my condition was his fault. Besides, he was just about to feed me. Sometimes he just confused me.

Seeing the undecided look on my face, he urged, “Alright, let’s go down to the kitchen. You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten something.” Taking one look down the stairs, he added, “And no way am I letting you walk down the stairs. You’d break your neck, and that would be extremely painful.”

He grinned at me when he picked me up, but I couldn’t tell if he was joking about me breaking my neck.

His house was truly gorgeous. It was spotless, too. When we got to the bottom of the elaborate staircase, he didn’t set me down on the hardwood floors. He carried me through the beige hallway that looked – although beautiful – very plain.

We emerged in a kitchen with the same dark wood flooring and cabinets. A lot of the appliances looked strange to me. I guess I wasn’t really up to date on the whole technology thing, which was understandable, considering how I had been living under a rock. Literally.

There was a little table in an eating area to the side of the kitchen overlooking a bay window that revealed only darkness. Mikey took me to this table and set me on one of the matching chairs. “I’m not much of a cook,” he admitted. “I hope you can get all you need from a limited menu.”

I smiled. Did he actually have a flaw? I guess everyone did. I watched Mikey curiously as he began to pull food out of the refrigerator.

“Eggs,” he muttered to himself. “She needs protein. An omelet. I can put vegetables in that. Bacon and sausage.” Suddenly he wheeled around and looked at me. “Is all that okay? Is there anything specific you want?”

I frowned. I could picture all of the foods in my mind, but I didn’t know what they tasted like. I lifted my shoulders and dropped them again. I guess I’d just eat what he made for me. I was okay with that.

He scowled, obviously frustrated. Yeah, I could imagine that I was frustrating. After staring at my unhelpful face, he turned and began to cook. I watched patiently, not really sure what to expect.

Soon I realized he was making way too much food. I raised my eyebrows at him when he set five plates in front of me.

“I’ll eat what you don’t,” he explained, handing me a fork.

I’ll admit it: the omelets were broken, the bacon was a little undercooked, and the pancakes were a little crispy on the edges. But you want to know the truth? Those things don’t even matter when you haven’t eaten in decades. I guess you wouldn’t know what it’s like. Good, I hope you never do.

But I’ll try to explain it. As soon as I took my first bite of that omelet, I was almost as hooked on it as I was on the blood, and that’s saying something. It just had so much flavor!

I ate until I was so full I felt sick and bloated. When I sat back in my chair, Mikey eyed a few leftover pieces of bacon. Once I nodded to him, he practically inhaled what was left of the breakfast food. I wondered if he had eaten anything since he found me. Considering the way he ate, I guessed that he hadn’t.

When all the plates were empty (Mikey had a bigger stomach than you would think), he sat back and looked at me very curiously. “Better?” he asked.

I smiled gratefully and nodded. I actually felt a lot better, to be honest. I also felt really, really tired.

“Good. So, do you remember your name yet? It would be nice to have something to call you,” he said.

I shook my head in dismay. It would’ve been nice to know my own name, but I still couldn’t remember it. What vexed me the most was that I constantly felt like it was on the tip of my tongue. I just couldn’t recall!

“That’s okay,” he replied, seeing my distress. “You’ll remember, don’t worry.”

He leaned in closer to me, his eyes searching through mine. “Can you talk?”

Of course I could talk! I remembered it perfectly. But when I opened my mouth to tell him that, nothing came out. I closed my mouth and furrowed my eyebrows together, dumbfounded.

Mikey looked perplexed, and he was still trying to read me. At last he nodded. I tried to stay focused on him, but it was getting hard. Why was that?

“It’s okay,” he said comfortingly. “We’ll work on that later. Right now you look tired.”

Oh, right. I was finding it hard to concentrate because I was practically falling asleep.

He was laughing. I tried to keep my heavy eyelids open to see what he was laughing at, but I was losing control of them. Still chuckling, he got up and lifted me easily off the chair.

That was the last think I remembered. I fell asleep so fast in his comfortable arms that I didn’t even have time to smile.