Making friends

(Rorim's POV)

Last night after we returned, we ate quesadillas and played games, just as Sam promised.

I allowed myself that night to have fun and relax around Norman for real. It wasn't difficult, more so because it wasn't just us two. The quesadillas everyone prepared were happily devoured in the living room, with Gillian and I eating most of the servings. Norman offered to wash the dishes afterwards while the three of us played. We gathered before the table and first played Jenga (where Sam won), then two rounds of pick-up sticks (where Gillian and I won), and then chess (where Norman won). I have also had my moments with Sam's fluffy cats - Caramel and Apple Sauce. Sam explained that they were both cream tabbies and what better way to name them than base it from her favorite cream dessert, apple pie. Although that didn't make sense to Gillian and we forgot about the activity, I'd like to think that the whole situation still served its purpose - getting to know each other better. The night passed by so fast that it was quarter to twelve when I realized the time. I panicked for a bit when I pictured Gilbert pacing back and forth in the living room anxiously because of my absent notice of going home late. The guys also started fixing up after I told them I'll be going first. Upon leaving, I handed the bracelet to Norman, received an embrace from Sam and left. I took a taxi ride home and arrived at exactly twelve.

I opened the door, expecting Gilbert to be waiting by the dining area, only to be surprised by his nephew instead.

"Hi." I whispered to him and shut the door quietly behind me.

"Welcome home." Zen smiled at me and raised his cup to me.

"What are you drinking? Where's Gilbert?" I looked around, checking for his worried figure in every corner to no avail.

"Asleep. Tired. Milk." Huh?

"What was that?" I covered my mouth and chuckled quietly at his reply.

"I don't know." He shrugged and we shared a good laugh.

I guess my time with the group hasn't exhausted my laughing gas.

"You're not going to sleep yet?" I asked, pouring myself a glass of water.

Zen washed his cup in the basin. "Was only waiting for you."

I nodded and drank. "Thank you for waiting then."

"You're welcome."

"Why are we whispering?"

"No idea, I'm just copying you." And we chuckled again. For a moment, watching a reflection happy didn't bother me so much.

"Good night, Zen." I said, with my normal voice this time but softer, which Zen replied with a wave.

I tiptoed to my room and prepped for bed.

It was when I got settled in bed that I brooded over my current plans. Every second, a gush of recollection rained over me, like a huge wave enveloping the sea, gnawing at itself from outside. It was heavy, then it was calm, then gentle and silent. And like waves, they came again and again. I was the sea, and the waves were my memories. I remembered them, the ripples of my existence, the bodies that became my cocoon, the lives that filled the void that I was, and the dreams I destroyed because of my hopes.

Sometimes, I liked to think that being me was normal, like most people. Because most people couldn't grasp their own identity, despite acting and believing they do. Most people choose to hide behind a mask, a facade, just to belong. Contrary to that, most brace themselves too, exposing their true selves without letting the hate of the world affect them, or at least try to. Most people loathe themselves, the figure or frame they're cursed to live in or the curse of insanity in their head that eats them inside out. I thought I was most people, after all, I have been most people. The only difference was, I have been them all my life. Constant was only the memories and him, and then nothing else.

In this lifetime, I was able to accept that constant. No longer felt the need to pursue my long lost desire, I was content with being a wandering soul whose only purpose is to live someone else's life and deal with everything that follows. Everytime, I had to meet, and love, and hate, and lose, and leave different faces, different souls, different hearts. I lived with that and I could live with it some more. But right when I wanted to live (and leave) each life peacefully by accepting what I was, I get knocked by a seemingly inevitable circumstance - Norman. He appeared before me. Again. And I can only dread.

I have to dread. To hate. To despise. To avoid. To force. To keep. To kill. Or else it's a never ending limbo for me.

Kill him, and it will be yours.

I will. No matter how it takes.

"Games begin tomorrow." I promised myself and drifted to sleep.

————————————-

We woke up earlier the next day and slowly figured out how to make an incubator. The other kids were still asleep when I quietly slid out the box from under my bed and took it to the playroom where Norman waited. Because the box where the nest sat was small, we swapped it for a bigger one that Gale found in the storage room. Norman figured that we needed a few feathers as they were good heat insulators. While he did that, Gale and I arranged the old clothes and towels to shape like a nest, making sure the size was big enough to fit the eggs just right. The eggs were carefully moved to their new nest, placing one egg closely next to the other. Later after Ms. Hipher rang the bell, we asked for an old, working thermometer and lamp.

"It's so we can check the temperature and regulate it." Gale reasoned and Ms. Hipher reluctantly provided. She did say she would give what we needed as long as it's available.

We thanked her then and placed the box in the storage room next to the sockets. One by one, we set up the new gadgets in the box, with the lamp's light focused on the eggs and thermometer next to the eggs.

Norman came back and joined us with a pocket full of chicken feathers. "We have to maintain the temperature to thirty-seven celcius." He said as he stuck a few featherful in between the eggs.

After minutes of waiting, the thermometer's meter reached the numbers between three and seven, making us three jump in delight.

"What now?" I asked them, clueless, momentum slowly subsiding.

Gale tapped my head. "Today's the sixth day if we count the days from when you found the nest. If I remember it correctly—"

"We have about more or less 20 days before the eggs hatch." Norman announced.

An idea suddenly flashed in my head and I dashed to our room. I took my old stuffed toy from the cabinet and gently sat it next to the nest.

"Now it's more cozy." I uttered as I stood, satisfied with my work.

"We can't leave it here though", said Gale.

"Who said we're leaving? You two can go, I'll stay here." I sat down next to the box and stared at it.

Norman sat on the other side and smiled at me, assuring me that he was to stay.

"Can I leave you two here then? I'll be in the second house for a while but I'll check up on you when I can."

We both nodded and went back to the box.

Minutes passed and we heard rapid footsteps stomping from outside, the sounds startled me.

"I think it's already breakfast." Norman claimed, the smell of fresh bread and ham surrounded the storage room.

grrooooooowl

"You can go." I told him, acknowledging the sound from his stomach.

"We should all be there. Ms. Hipher hates it when we miss breakfast."

I shook my head. "I can't leave the eggs."

"Eat quickly then."

I pursed my lips and sighed in defeat. I was getting hungry too.

We both stood up and stepped out of the storage door, checked first for lurking eyes and proceeded to the dining room. Hunger hit us even more when we reached the door.

"Hurry, we're starving!"

"Norman, where did you go? We looked for you!"

"Eaaaaaaat! Eat! Eat! Eat!"

"Ms. Hipher, my ham looks small."

Norman and I gathered at the table, on the empty chairs they left for us and said grace. I sat on the farthest seat and Norman did next to his friends. With my first bite of the sandwich, I moaned. I would've missed it if I didn't come sooner. I doubt there would be anything left as well, kids are always mostly greedy when they're hungry.

"Why are you not playing with us anymore?" The question from Norman's side of the table caught my attention. I pretended not to hear and continued eating.

"Yeah, where have you been going?"

"Why are you always with Raven?"

"Keep playing with us Norman."

My interest subsided as I hurried munching, with only the eggs in mind. I have to get back there or someone will disturb them.

Chewing the last bite, I took my plate to the kitchen and inaudibly thanked Ms. Hipher for a good breakfast. She made me drink my milk first, which I hated, before letting me go.

As soon as I got back, I instantly eyed the thermometer. I relaxed when I saw it unchanged and sat next to it again. Suddenly I thought about Norman and his friends. I thought about how he hasn't been with them lately because he was with us, dealing with the eggs. Then I wondered if he missed playing, if he wished to play instead. I wondered what I would feel if he left me and the eggs for his friends. Was I one of his friends? Does he consider me one of his friends? Do I consider him my friend? What do friends do? Can you both talk and suddenly be friends? Do you ask someone permission to be friends? I only pondered, as I didn't really know.

The knock on the door stopped my thinking. I moved on the other side, before the box and tried to hide it with my frame as I anticipated.

I held my breath when the door opened. Then Norman's head peeked from the side, as if checking and stepped in when he only saw me. I went back to my old seat and said nothing.

We were quiet for a while until I couldn't keep the questions to myself any longer.

"Norman." He looked up and met my eyes.

"I heard your friends from breakfast." I folded my foot from the floor to my chest. "Do you not want to play with them?"

He pondered for a moment as he stared at the eggs.

"I don't really miss playing with them. They all lose to me." He replied after giving it a thought.

I inhaled, "Do you want to stay here then?"

He nodded in a blink. "I want to see the eggs hatch and I want to take care of them."

His answer brought a warm smile to my lips, a heat to my cheeks. I was happy to hear it.

"Norman?"

"Yes?"

"How do you befriend someone?"

He tilted his head and shifted his position. "I don't really know. Aren't they automatic?." He pursed his lips and thought deeper. "But what if the other side doesn't count you as a friend, then that's embarrassing. I guess it's safer to ask then."

That made sense. I wondered then if he wanted to be friends with me. Because I did.

"Can I be your friend?"

I almost thought that the question came from me except that the voice wasn't mine.

"You're asking me?" The warmth started growing again.

He nodded and looked at me with anticipation.

I took a moment to let it register until I replied. "Okay." I exhaled and leaned my head closer to him. I awkwardly stayed in that position until Norman leaned his and our foreheads touched.

"What are we doing?" he chuckled lightly.

"I saw cats do this to each other. They touch their foreheads when they meet. I wanted to try it." And it was true. I liked to think that cats do it to greet each other since they can't shake hands. Cats are not like humans.

"You're a bird not a cat." That made me laugh, my forehead bumping his lightly as I shook.

He didn't pull away until I did. I decided that I liked that about him. According to Ms. Hipher's lessons, he was being a good person.

I beamed at him. "Hello, friend. I'm Raven. I'm a person, not a bird."

"Hello, Raven. I'm Norman. Thank you for being my friend."

That morning, in the dark, dusty storage room surrounded with boxes of different surplus supplies and an incubating nest, I made my first official friend.