I am Clara

Can't a Girl Enjoy a Bath?

 As I laid in the warm bath water, trying to sooth the ache of my tired muscles, I couldn't shake an overwhelming sense of uneasiness. It was such a drastic change from today's carefree afternoon. The contrast was unsettling. I could only describe it as an immense sense of dread, a feeling that something wasn't right. Despite my growing anxiety, I shut my eyes and did my best to forget about my problems. I had been getting this feeling often lately, it probably meant nothing.

      It was only when my aching muscles were pricked by a familiar piece of metal and pain turned to numbness that I began to panic. Someone was in the house. The Sphere was preparing for a battle. The thought of Andrews fast asleep in his bedroom on the second floor, completely innocent and helpless, sent me into a frenzy. Water splashing everywhere, I jumped out of the tub. Sliding on the marble floor, I grabbed a pair of pyjama shorts and pink robe, not bothering to grab anything else. Rearranging my clothing in a manner to be considered somewhat decent, I raced downstairs, not once thinking of strategies or weapons. Mimpi would not have been proud.

     Running into the hall, I was briefly relieved to see Andrews' door still closed and hear his faint snoring. I say briefly for the moment I stopped holding my breath I was tackled into a nearby wall, picture frame falling on my head.

     I removed the blade placed against my throat before it could do more than just a scratch, threw it behind me and kicked the man across the hall. He hit the wall with a loud bang and Andrews' door soon swung open. Despite the darkness, I saw him clearly. The moon light escaping his window reflected on his half nude body, wild hair, and wide eyes.

     "Close your door," I ordered, midway through my transformation into the suit.

     Though rattled and holding his head, the man was quickly rising, reaching for another weapon strapped to his back.

     "Shut the door, now!" I stopped his protesting. "I. Mean. It. Shut the door and lock it. Do not come out until I tell you too."

     "No. What—"

     Before I could further argue with the idiot, he was struck between the eyes with a sharp piece of the Sphere. Watching his limp body fall, I wanted to scream with frustration. Sure, there was no way he'd get in my way now, but what if something happened to me? He had no way of defending himself. I had no doubt this was a result of Mimpi's poor logic.

     Removing my exasperated expression from his unconscious body, I turned my attention towards the much more problematic and very conscious body. Arm raised and slightly bent; the spear was seconds away from being released of his grip. Doing as I had last time, I launched my own weapon his way. The hilt of my sword met the top of his forehead and he instantly collapsed, the spear falling along with it.

     I summoned the blade back to my side, staring at the man in utter disbelief. Could it really be that easy?

     Not seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary, I jumped over Andrews' and stole a pair of handcuffs from his closet. Tying the man's hands behind his back, I dragged the body towards Andrews' room, only stopping when I heard the faint sound of footsteps and someone beginning to speak. Dropping the limp body, I whirled around, blade at the ready. The tip met Andrews' chest, placed directly over his heart. Eyes wide, he blinked at the weapon on his bare chest. I copied his expression, breathing heavily as I quickly drew the blade away.

     "Don't do that," I breathed.

     "Why am I so dizzy?"

     "The Sphere—" I started, cutting short with alarm.

     I wasn't alarmed for our lives, I knew the steps didn't belong to Mimpi's people, the quick pace was familiar. I knew who the footsteps belonged too, and I was very much alarmed of the potential horrendous reaction they would have towards what they might discover.

     "Get a blanket," I told Andrews, shoving him in the direction of his room, as I once again began to drag the body. I would never reach his bedroom on time.

     "What?"

     "Get your blanket, now!" I grunted, pulling the man with great effort. "And a sweatshirt... Please."

     Despite quickly dashing off, Andrews wasn't going as fast as I would have liked. The smell of old spice after shave was rapidly growing stronger, Andrews' parents were just around the corner.

     Andrews threw me the blanket just as Anna's dark hair became visible. He helped cover the body with the blue quilt, as I threw on his Wildcats sweater. Covering the lower half of my body with the remainder of the blanket, I bent my knees, creating a tent in the fabric, in attempt to make the human lump less noticeable.

     "What is going on?" Anna demanded, out of breath.

     "Sorry," I blurted. "Um... I was sleep walking and hit the wall."

     Tremendous work, Clara. That was very convincing.

     "Sleep walking?" she cocked a brow.

     "Yeah. Happens when I'm stressed."

    "And the blanket?"

     "I was sleeping. It's not atypical for one to sleep with a blanket or to get cold."

     "So, you grabbed Easton's blanket and clothes?"

     Spluttering at the intensity of her tone, I found no reasonable explanation and eventually gave up. "Yeah?"

     Pinching the bridge of her nose, she spoke no more. Shooting her son and I a look of exasperation, she stalked back the way she came.

     Only now noticing that Jim, who seemed highly amused with the situation, happened to be wearing one of Anna's silk lavender robes, I bit my lip, holding back a laugh at his attire.

     "What?" he asked. "Not my style?"

     Shaking my head, I snorted, watching him follow his wife, with a quiet promise to calm her down.

     I left Andrews in his room with Kundanskie's minion, before searching the entire home, ensuring there were no other intruders.

    "Is evil always this heavy?" Andrews grunted as we carried the man, wrapped in an old white bed sheet, down the stairs.

     I made a small noise to acknowledge his comment but made no move to strike up a conversation.

     "What's wrong?" he asked, breathing heavily.

     "Nothing."

     "Clara—" he started impatiently, opening the backdoor.

     "You didn't shut your door!"

    "What?"

     "I told you to shut your door and lock it. I told you to leave me alone to deal with the man... You didn't."

     "I—" he started in a stutter.

    "I told you. I told you, you couldn't—"

     "I know," he interrupted. "I'm sorry. I know it was stupid. I know better, but I was tired and confused... I just didn't think."

     I gave him the benefit of the doubt, again. I nodded and shot him a small smile, choosing to ignore the uneasy feeling in my gut.

     By the time we managed to secretly drag the man and leave him in a somewhat public area, the sun had already begun to rise. Jim was actually awake and preparing for work when we returned, which was rather unfortunate.

     The moment we opened the front door we came face to face with Jim, who had abandoned his silk robe for a suit. I remained hidden behind Andrews, praying his body would hide what the sweater didn't. Staring at us with a deep frown, intrigued rather than annoyed, he turned back on heels.

     "I didn't see anything," he returned to the kitchen, leaving us alone.

     Making a dash for our rooms, before he could change his mind, Andrews and I slept the very few hours remaining before the sound of our alarms.