Speak & Listen 2

A Sophisticated Whore

I now had the truth in my hands. I could decide to run with the thrill that came with the danger of being in the presence of Abel, or Channing Myers, or I could do what's right. I could turn the gun to Abel and end this insanity. I could walk out of that house and receive the help I need and, for once, live in a peaceful reality where my mind isn't a toy for grown men to play with.

I so wish I wouldn't end the story of my life with this cliche, but I couldn't imagine how everything could have been without the start of those letters. How, as Abel said, I had intended to speak to be heard. How, when I was finally heard, I was tormented. I deserved a sane reality, where I existed as a hero free of guilt.

But, it sounded insane to say that as much as the man who was evidently a psychopathic killer deserved to die, I couldn't bring myself to the reality that I felt existent and important ever since Abel came into the picture. Sure, I had admitted to myself countless times how, not even to the slightest bit, I did not find myself sexually nor romantically attracted to him, but I couldn't fight the thrill that came with him. The excitement of danger. Really, this made me wonder how fun reality would be. It's sort of like the imagery I've always had of heaven. How, in heaven, we are promised abundant life and fruits of eternal health and possibly, not even a glass of whiskey is allowed.

Is reality even worth it? What if in reality, all I had was myself? What if this fantastical state of mind was actually the better place to be? What if I was totally fine and the world isn't? I could only imagine Abel and I in an asylum, kept away from each other, as I spent the rest of my days ruminating of the 'what could have beens' and the 'what ifs'?

That was not the life I wanted to live. I wanted a soulmate. I wanted a companion who was patient and understanding of my ways. Abel was EXACTLY that. In fact, I only complained about his perfection...complained about what I exactly wanted. Doesn't that make me unappreciative?

...

In a dangerous amount of speed, Alejandro's Porsche Carrera and Gabriel's Mercedes truck raced to Nahoo. Gabriel, in his car, was with William and Elijah while Alejandro in his car was accompanied by Mason.

"How do you know where he lives?" William asked.

"Really. No one knows where he lives." Elijah's eyes rolled.

"I followed him." Gabriel answered. "The dude is a 23-year-old man who travels by a bicycle. That's weird."

"Well I think he's done far much weirder things." William sighed.

While Gabriel was driving, a police wagon, followed by many others, passed by even faster speed. About ten or more wagons consecutively passed Gabriel and Alejandro's cars.

"Shit!" Gabriel halted the car, making a screeching sound.

William fumed. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to get arrested. I'm a murderer remember? And you two might be arrested too!"

"We are not going to be fucking arrested!" Elijah smacked his head.

"No! We're turning back!" Gabriel hyperventilating.

He actually turned the car around, making Alejandro's car, which was ahead, to slow down.

"Gabriel, turn the fuck around. Adrian is in danger!" William yelled.

"The cops are on their way to save him. He'll be okay! But we can't go to fucking jail!" Gabriel was now having a full-blown anxiety attack.

When he began escalating his speed, he was stopped by a horizontal line of police wagons that completely quarantined the road. Most of the policemen were leaning outside their cars, holding their firearms against the car.