Where I Lay My Head

"Thank you," I said kindly to Cecil once the boys had made their final exodus, leaving us alone in the apartment. My voice had shrunk to its normal volume just above a whisper. "He was scaring me."

"Sebastian's a great guy!" Cecil retorted offensively and folded his arms over the swollen muscles of his chest.

I flinched at the spontanious raise of voice. Why couldn't he understand how I was feeling? Honestly, it hadn't been that long since he had been in my shoes, completely new to this sort of freedom.

"Just... let him grow on you." he used his voice sparingly now and joined me on the sofa, his staunch arm wrapping around my frame and pulling us close. "It sure is nice to see you."

I weakly smirked and leaned into him, shocked at how identical he smelled to the old Cecil I knew four years before; still nutty and warm. He was a completely different person now, in a completely different place, but I felt as if we were kids again when he lived not a two minute walk from my back yard and we were together every day. I truly missed those days, but knew it was senseless to dwell on aspects of the past that certainly cannot be ressurected. "Great to see you too, Cec'."

It had to be ten minutes that we stayed like that, and not long enough. But I had things to do. It was my duty as the only female in the house to maintain a clean living environment and if I wanted to do anything remotely similar to that, I would have had to start very soon.

"You're not at the farm anymore, Priss. Chores don't exist around here." Cecil called to me as I examined all that needed to be done, starting in the kitchen.

The idea of no chores was a great one, but I couldn't get a grasp on it. After sixteen years of hours and hours of chores each day, I couldn't just relax while the filth of Cecil's apartment began to pulsate.

"Cleaning is my duty as a woman, no matter where I am." I responded plainly while rummaging the drawers of his kitchens for a dish-rag.

He sighed. "I don't know if Rumspringa got to you in time. Maybe you can't be saved."

I smiled but realized that was wasn't joking once I spared a gaze his way as he somberly lounged at the sofa. Did he truly hate life in Mullica Hill so bad that he felt he had to save me from it?

That bothered me, almost frightened me, so much that I didn't dare ask him to elaborate. Maybe Cecil and I weren't so alike after all, and maybe I was doomed to a life-time of isolation and restriction.

Don't I belong somewhere?