Tiny Raven

I was drunk.

Not the most I had ever been.

I wasn’t wasted or blacked out, but I was definitely well into drunk territory.

Grillby had kept my glass filled. He kept increasing the ice as he lowered the amount of alcohol. He also made sure to intersperse the liquor with glasses of water.

He was nice.

Apollo reappeared partway through the night and talked to me about nothing for an hour. Then he went away, calling me “sweetheart” and asking me to call him sometime.

He was … tolerable. Barely.

It was quarter after ten when Grillby escorted the skeleton back to the booth I had commandeered. Closing time had come and gone, but I hadn’t felt like leaving. I wanted to give Bones and Grillby time to catch up since it seemed like they knew each other.

Every time I considered leaving I remembered that Boney was a slave. A slave I owned.

And I needed another drink to drown the guilt.

The bartender held out some small bills to me, the remains from my alcoholic binge. I waved it off as I attempted to pull myself together for the walk home.

“Keep it,” I slurred. “You need’t more’n I do.”

He flared at me, clearly disagreeing, but didn’t push. The fire elemental slid the extra cash into his vest pocket and offered a hand to help me up. I shook my head.

“ ’m fine. ’m drunk, not inv’lid.”

I could already tell I was going to have a hangover from hell in the morning, but I didn’t care. That was a problem for future me.

And future me could suck it.

Present me wasn’t feeling quite as guilty and scummy as I had before. I counted that as a win.

“ ‘lright Bone Boy. Ready t’go home?” I asked as I finally heaved myself to my feet, hoping I was at least somewhat intelligible.

The skeleton shrugged, which was as close to a “yes” as I was going to get from him.

Grillby gave the skeleton a meaningful look as I shouldered my messenger bag. I wondered what the pair had talked about while I was drowning myself in alcohol.

“G’night Grillbz,” I said, holding onto the “z” a little too long. I shot him finger guns and a wink. “See ya tom’rrow, hot stuff.”

The bartender sparked a little and his flames turned dark and red. I laughed as I turned from him and started making my way outside.

I shivered as I emerged into the deep autumn night. Stretching while I waited for Bones to say his goodbyes and join me. I took a deep breath, trying to let the crisp air sober me a little.

I had stopped drinking an hour ago and my happy buzz was fading fast. The guilt was settling back into my stomach.

I felt like trash.

“I am a trash can,” I proclaimed to the dark street and sky, raising my fists. “Not a trash can’t!”

I heard a snicker behind me and turned to see Bone Dude three feet away and staring at me like I had grown an extra head.

I blinked in surprise. Had I … Had I made him laugh?

“Fuck yeah,” I said as I dropped my arms and began the walk home.

I led the way to my apartment building, rambling incoherently as we walked. Bones walked a few paces behind me, silent and glaring at the back of my head.

My apartment building wasn’t the prettiest building on the block. The owners were an elderly couple who did their best to keep up with the demands of being landlords. But they clearly had trouble keeping everything managed.

Sometimes their daughter would stop by to help them out. She would make appointments for repairs and maintenance to the facade and outside of the building. Her visits were few and far between, so the building often looked like it was on the verge of condemnation.

She also spent most of her visits trying to get her parents to sell the place. Which would effectively evict nearly every resident.

It would certainly mean my eviction.

Despite appearances the couple kept the innards of the building working beautifully. Which was far more important than the curb appeal, in my mind.

Except, of course, tonight. The capstone to my shit day: the elevator was out of order. Again.

I kicked weakly at the door, as though all it needed was a little percussive maintenance from my boot. This failed to fix whatever the issue was, so I headed to the stairwell,.

“Hope you’re up for a climb, Bone Boy,” I said as I unlocked the door.

Somehow, despite being behind me when we started our ascent, the bag of bones managed to get in front of me.

Every time I got to a landing he was already there, leaning against the wall and waiting for me. I would pass him, start up the next flight, and then find him waiting on the next landing.

I didn’t think I was that drunk.

Finally at my floor I opened the landing door, allowing both Bone Guy and I into the hallway. I turned and headed down the hall to my apartment.

Last door on the left.

Bone Ninja was already there, waiting for me.

I paused when I noticed him. Had I told him which apartment I lived in? I must have during my drunken rambling.

I couldn’t even remember what I had talked about on the way home.

He was leaning on the wall next to the door, glaring at me in annoyance.

I meandered over, taking my time, and put my key in the lock.

I held the door open for my new roommate.

Yeah. Keep thinking of him like a roommate. That eases the guilt a little.

“Welcome home,” I said with a wave of my hand when the skeleton hesitated to enter. I followed him in, locked the door behind us, and slid off my shoes while I let him look around.

I tried not to take it too personally when he glanced back at me, like he couldn’t believe this place belonged to me.

All I could do in response was shrug.

The apartment had already been furnished when I had taken over the lease. Dining room table and chairs, a comfortable sectional sofa and coffee table, a decent TV.

All of it nice. None of it mine.

My youngest older brother had said it looked like a showroom apartment. Beautiful for photographs, but lacking signs of life. My sister said it lacked “personality.”

I disagreed with them. There was life in the garbage bag near the door, full and tied off but not yet taken out. The coffee table was home to a pile of books, dogeared and well loved. There were piles of paperwork on the dining room table, sorted into an organized chaos.

Nearly every windowsill held at least one plant.

It wasn’t my fault I had the personality of the color beige.

I shook my head to clear it, pulling my thoughts back on track and bringing on a wave of nausea.

“Kitchen and living room,” I said as I walked by the skeleton and waved at him to follow me. I led him down the hallway, opening doors as I went. “Spare, office, spare, my room, bathroom, other bathroom. Pick whichever of the spares you want.”

I unlocked my own bedroom door and threw my bag and jacket onto my bed.

The spare rooms were similar. One was a little bigger and had a balcony, but no closet. The other had a closet and a small window. Both were furnished with a mattress, sheets, and pillows, but nothing else.

No one had stayed in either since before I moved in, but I kept the linens clean just in case.

I walked back into the kitchen and opened the medicine cabinet to get some pain relief for the morning. I was already sobering up and I knew I would be cursing myself when my alarm went off at four.

I was already cursing myself for staying out this late and getting so drunk.

As I sorted through pill bottles I realized I had no idea if the skeleton had eaten at Solar’s or not. For all I knew he couldn’t actually eat the burger and fries I’d pushed onto him.

“Hey, Bone Dude?” I asked, voice raised to carry but not enough to annoy my neighbors.

I turned around and found myself eye to black eye sockets. I yelped and dropped the two bottles I was holding.

He was three steps behind me, staring at me.

That was going to get old real fast.

I picked up the pill bottles and took a step away, reasserting my personal space. “You said the old bastard lied about you needing to eat?”

The skeleton gave a quick nod. I frowned and wondered how long he had been starving.

“What a dick,” I said simply, then I held out my hand waving at the kitchen. “Kitchen and pantry are open to you. I don’t have much, but anything I have is yours.”

I chose my pills and then turned to put the bottles back.

“ … anything?” The skeleton asked as he stared at the fridge.

I glanced at him, uncertain how to answer the question, then nodded.

“Yeah, anything,” I said. I nudged him out of the way and opened the fridge, lighting up his face. “If you use up the last of something or want anything specific, write it down for me. I’ll try to get it next time I do a grocery run. Which’ll be next Sunday. The list’s on the door.”

I grabbed a water bottle and took another peak at his expression as I pulled away.

He looked like he was in awe and those pinprick pupils were back.

I wondered how often he had access to food in the last few years.

I doubted I would like the answer.

I looked back in the fridge, taking stock of what I had available. Most of my leftovers were gone, but I knew I had the ingredients for lasagna and I could make a batch tomorrow.

“You aren’t allergic or need a special diet or anything, right?”

Bone Dude shook his head, still enamored with my nearly-empty fridge.

If he was going to keep this up my electricity bill was going to skyrocket.

“Hey,” I said, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Don’t let all the penguins out.”

He grunted but obliged and closed the door to the fridge. Then he looked around the kitchen, apparently lost.

“Make yourself at home,” I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. “This is your home, now.”

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, because his eyelights flickered out and he went back to glaring at me.

I sighed and pointed out cabinets and drawers. “Plates and stuff are up there, utensils are in this drawer, pots and pans are down here. This is the pantry. I only ask you clean up after yourself. I had to deal with a roach infestation a few months back and I’d really rather not have that happen again,”

I frowned at the memory. It wasn’t even my fault. A neighbor had allowed an infestation to grow so much that it migrated out of their apartment. My entire floor had to be fumigated to deal with it.

I’d slept in my car for three days. In the middle of summer.

It was miserable.

I motioned at the living room setup. “I don’t have much in the way of movies or anything, but I have access to some streaming accounts. Feel free to use them, but make sure you’re on my account. Name is Theresa or Terra – like the Roman goddess? – but a couple might be under ‘Angel’. If any of those don’t work, let me know and I’ll figure it out.”

Bone Dude continued to stare at me and I was completely done with interaction. I picked up my water and pills and left the room.

“Goodnight Bone Butt,” I said as I walked away. “Hope you sleep well. Let me know if you need anything.”

I stopped at the bathroom to brush my teeth, checking my reflection in the mirror once more. The bruise was clear now, an angry purple-red. It hurt more, too. A dull ache that I could almost ignore, but that was ever-present.

At least I was wrong about having a black eye.

I went to my room, locking the door behind me. I dropped the pills and water on my nightstand.

I changed into my pajamas while looking at my messenger bag. The paperwork for Bone Guy (my slave) was in there, and I couldn’t decide what to do with it.

As I pulled my nightshirt over my head I decided that, like the hangover I was going to wake up with, that was a problem for future me.

I hoped she would forgive me.

I plugged in my laptop, flicked off my lights, and hopped into bed. I sent a quick text message to my sister to warn her about our mother and her bullshit, then I plugged my phone in to charge.

I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.