Without any warning, it seems I am off to be making breakfast, early in the morning. I really shouldn't be surprised at this morning's events. For a good few days now, Rebecca has been coming in to wake me up, and take me downstairs to get some food in her stomach. The woman is incredibly insistent sometimes. As soon as we cleared the room, I tried to go to the bathroom to get a little cleaned up, but ended up being yanked further towards the stairs. At this time, I lose my balance and start tumbling down the stairs, her with me.

Both of us start screaming as we tumble down the stairs. I immediately move my body to the side, ensuring that I don't fall flat on my head as I yank Rebecca towards me. She yelps as I do the only think I can think of to keep both of us safe. She's pulled into my chest and wrapped in my arms, as tight as I can hold her. Thankfully, our stairwell is divided into two sections. As soon as we to the bottom of the first second, about seven stairs, we stop, landing on my back with her on top of me. This morning is definitely not on my side.

I cough as I slowly move my arms from the hold they had on Rebecca and I ask her about whether or not she is alright. Pushing herself up from me, she blinks and looks down at me. She'd been laying, face-down against me. Her face gets a little red and she shakes her head, quickly moving off me. “I...I'm fine! Watch where you walk, Trent. You could have gotten us both seriously hurt! Stairs aren't supposed to be that hard to travel through. I'm gonna go ahead and go downstairs. I'll meet you there.” She then quickly runs down the next set of stairs, which is about 8 steps in total.

As I slowly pick myself up, I hear her calling from below. “..and don't fall down this next set of stairs. I don't want an injured cook!” I can hear the scurrying of her little feet on the floor below. Getting to my feet, I hang onto the railing, slowly going down the steps. It was, surely, her fault that we fell down in the first place, but she is how she is. Even though she's living with me now, I can't very well tell her that she can't act the way she is. I like her company way too much to start giving her an uncomfortable experience here. I start to think about the past week as I come down the stairs.

Ever since she had decided to stay, I've had a load of fun. Every single day brought something different to the mix. One day, we were setting some things up for her, like a stepping stool for the bathroom and the bedroom which now belongs to her. Another day, we went through an old dresser to find some clothes that would fit her. I had offered to wash her clothes for her, the ones she had on, but she decided against that idea. She didn't like the idea of being without clothes in my house, even if it was just for a little while. Who knows what today will bring. All I know is that I'll probably have fun with it.

Coming into the kitchen, I see the refrigerator door already having been opened up, and Rebecca is on one of the stools at the counter. In front of her is a small plate, silverware, and a napkin that she'd had me lay out for her last night. She sits there, in her little dress, swinging her feet back and forth, smiling towards me. “I'm ready for breakfast! I already got out what we're having, okay?!” She points to the other side of the counter, where I can already see a carton of eggs and a small spatula. It looks like we're having eggs, again.

“Coming right up, Rebecca!” I say, enthusiastically. These times are when she's usually the most full-of-energy, and wanting to be around me. Although it's true that she sticks around me for most of the day, the times we eat are the times where she seems the most enthusiastic. I can't really allow myself to be anything, but enthusiastic as well. As I walk over to the eggs, getting a couple out, I see a smile on her face as she throws some attitude in there. “Scrambled, please, and hurry! I'm starving over here!” Her little bits of attitude make her seem very bossy, but that's alright. I do enjoy being instructed around, even if it is by someone only 1/3 of my size.

The next few minutes are spent getting a pan out and starting to cook the two eggs on the stove attached to the counter where Rebecca sat. As the food cooks and I stir it around, making sure to break it up as it cooks, I look over to Rebecca and begin to get curious about today. “So, Rebecca, what would you like to do today?” Although I can easily just wait for her to tell me later, I want to know now, so I can start preparing myself for what her curiosity will get herself into today. As I wait, she puts her hand up to her forehead, as if she were thinking really hard.

“I wanna talk about you today!” I can't help but blink in confusion as to Rebecca's idea. She just wants to talk, and about me, of all people? I was honestly expecting her to want to do something, like wander around the house, or watch TV, or something of that sort. Talking is the one thing that I was not expecting. “You want to talk about...me, Rebecca?” I ask, still in a bit of confusion. She wants to talk about her own life so little all the time, I can't imagine why she wants me to tell her about myself. I'm not against talking. It's just so surprising, from her.

“Yeah! I wanna know more about you!...and I can tell you more about me! Or, at least...what I can remember. I just want to learn more and understand you better, since, you know, we're living together right now.” I almost think I hear a giggle coming from her lips as she talks about living together. Now I'm even more confused. As I cut up more of the egg in the pan, I think about what she would want to talk about. Every time her past comes up, she tells me very little. Honestly, I don't know that much about her, at all. Of course, she could probably say the same about me.

After finishing the preparations and pouring the eggs onto two plates, I sit down next to her and softly pat her shoulder. “Sure thing, Rebecca. After we eat, we'll go to the living room or somewhere, and you can ask me anything you want.” Rebecca, losing some of her attitude, smiles towards me and then begins to shovel food down her throat, using small salad forks to cut up her egg, rather than the full-sized forks I am using.