Ai Writing 1

the guy

"Today is the fourth day since I set off." The old traveler stares at me. His cold gaze sends chills down my spine, I can’t help but stare back.
"Today is the fourth. See, there were countless days in my journey, but I only count four." The old man continues, pointing his callous finger in some direction, "the first day I was born. The second day, I met a squirrel. The third day, I burned my house. The fourth day, I reached my destination."
"I know you’re looking for a new beginning. A glorious path to a legendary adventure. But do you know how your story ends?" He pauses to pass me his beer as he says this.
"After all, we’re all heading to our ends."
"What’s your end? I mean, what do you intend to accomplish after the world has turned upside down?" I ask him before taking a swig of my bottle. My eyes meet the cold orbs of the stranger.
"It's a sad story." He states while staring off into space.
We stand there in silence as he takes another gulp from his bottle, I watch him drink until it hits his stomach. Then I see him cough violently as if his throat was caught on something. It took him a couple seconds until he could breath again.
"Your grandfather died today, didn't he?" He questions after a moment of silence.
He's dead... That's why his spirit hasn't come out, because of that damn illness. He's gone now. I wonder how he got sick and died, but I guess no one can really escape their fate. Everyone dies, and everyone lives on.
"Yes... My grandfather passed away about thirty minutes ago." I reply, avoiding eye contact with the old man.
"You have a lot of love to give, don't you Johnny?"
That sentence hit me like a bullet. My name is Johnny, but nobody calls me that anymore except for my parents and sister. People used to call me Johnny when I was younger. They thought my family name sounded nice too. Now they just call me Johnny. I'm an adult now, and people stop calling me that. I've learned to live with it, but it still hurts sometimes.
Sometimes I forget that I'm even human. I think it's funny, considering my profession as a hunter and everything I do, but I try not to let it bother me. Most people are scared of hunters nowadays, so they keep their distance from me.
I'm glad the old man doesn't seem bothered by my reaction, but he does look at me weirdly. "Is that a problem?" I question him, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze.
"No, not at all." The old man replies, shaking his head in the process. He then starts to laugh a little.
"I'm sure you're worried for the young ones," his laughter stops abruptly, "but I can tell you that no matter where you go, nothing can harm you. Don't you agree with me?"
"I guess..." I answer with hesitation. What he said makes sense. Nothing can harm me if there's nobody around. The only person who could be harmed if I leave is myself, which isn't an issue.
"Well I'm going to say goodbye now, see you again soon Johnny!" The old man announces before turning around and making his way towards the exit of the camp.
As he leaves the small clearing I take another glance around before I finally begin walking. This forest is beautiful. Although many hunters visit here, there aren't many who actually use the area to hunt. It's usually filled with trees, bushes, and streams. There's also the occasional bird or animal, but it's rare to find them.
"There's so much stuff up here," I murmur while running my fingers through my dark blond hair. There were several things up in the tree tops. Some branches hung over my head. Others had a net hanging down. Even some birds flew through the air while flying past.
This forest is so different from the other places I've traveled, it's refreshing. After all these years travelling between towns, and hunting monsters, I never experienced such beauty. I never knew I was missing it until I found myself standing here. I miss it every time I step onto that plane, but I get to see it here.
My thoughts are interrupted when I feel a branch move against me. I snap my attention towards the tree next to me. I quickly duck to the side when I notice two huge red eyes looking at me. I'm afraid if I make a sudden move they'll attack.
The creature lets out a small growl, slowly making its way closer to me.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I mutter to myself, backing away. Suddenly it moves, and leaps in front of me. I'm too close to back away and it grabs me by my wrist tightly.
"Hey!" I scream, fighting the grip on my wrist, "let go!"
The creature holds onto me tighter and I feel pain shoot through my arm.
"Let me go! You monster!" I thrash wildly, trying to free myself.
Suddenly someone appears behind me and smacks the creature in the head with the butt of their rifle. I jump away from the creature and cover my mouth when I realize it's a girl. The girl, being bigger than the creature, knocks it to the ground before kicking it away. The girl turns around to glare at me.
"Don't worry kid, it's dead. Are you okay?" she asks, looking concerned.
She's probably one of those hikers who came in the morning to check on us. She looks like her age, about sixteen, and she's dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt. Her hair is tied into two ponytails; she looks exhausted.
I stand there dumbfounded, unable to form words.
"Oh crap! Sorry! Are you hurt? Should I bring you to a clinic?" she panics, her eyes frantically searching for any sign of injury.
I shake my head quickly, "it's fine! I'm fine! Thank you for saving my life."
Her face relaxes, a faint blush spreads across her cheeks as she shakes her head lightly, "no worries kid. Do you want to ride my bike? I'd feel bad if you ended up getting a concussion or anything..." She adds, motioning to her bike.
I nod my head, grateful for the chance to get away from here. She smiles brightly and gets onto her bike. With some help I manage to get onto the seat beside her. She's riding surprisingly fast. We're almost to the gate before she realizes we're on a cliff.
"Damn it! I left my wallet in my cabin!" She curses loudly, looking down at the road below. I grab the hand grip tightly.
She slows down to a stop, and hops off the bike, "crap. I forgot it there!"
"Are you planning on staying here for long?" I ask her.
"Nah, just visiting for the weekend, but I should probably head back..."
"Wait here a moment! I have my cell phone if you need help."
I run back inside the building and into my cabin. I immediately grab my phone and pull up my contacts. There's only two people listed: my uncle and my aunt. Uncle is listed as the emergency number, I press the dial button and put my phone up to my ear.
The line rings once more before being connected. As soon as Aunt picks up the call I hear her voice, "hello? Is this Uncle?...Yeah, it's me. I wanted to speak with Dad... Yes, yes, it's fine. Okay bye." I hang up my phone and throw the strap over my shoulder before returning outside.
My aunt is holding her motorcycle helmet while putting on her helmet. Once she was done adjusting her helmet she puts both hands on the handlebars. She gives me a thumbs up before revving her engine. The noise was deafening. Her motorcycle starts up and she speeds off down the highway. Just as she disappears from my sight I turn around and stare at the place she disappeared.
I wonder how she managed to survive on her own like this. Did she steal a car or something? If she did steal a car she must've been able to afford the cost for gasoline, right? Maybe my brother stole her car when she went out last night. That would explain why I haven't seen her yet. I'll definitely talk to my brother later.
A few moments later I reach the gate, and once it opens I enter the camping ground. Once I pass the security barrier I head in the direction of my home. It won't take much longer.
As I walk down the street, I watch as the sun begins to rise above the horizon, casting bright rays on the buildings that surround me. It reminds me of what I'm doing right now. A job that allows me to pay the bills and live a decent life. It's not quite what I pictured it would be, but it's better than nothing.
It takes me less than five minutes to reach my destination. I climb up the stairs, and make my way inside my house, closing the door behind me softly. I place my bag down near the couch and head upstairs.
When I enter my room, I notice my phone on the bedside table along with a letter.
I frown and pick up the letter, unfolding it.
What is it again?
I sigh and continue reading the rest of my uncle's note.
After reading the letter, I lay the paper flat and place it on my desk.
The sound of the knocking wakes me from my sleep.
I groan quietly, rubbing my eyes tiredly before opening them again and staring at the door. It seems my body is tired from yesterday's activities, so I decide to just stay in bed for the day and rest.
The knocking continues. Finally, I give up and get out of bed. I rub my stomach and stretch, trying to work some energy back into my body. As soon as my hands drop my yawn escapes my mouth and I cover my mouth, embarrassed.
Finally deciding to do something about my lack of energy, I walk downstairs to the first floor and sit in front of the living room fireplace. Soon my whole body becomes warm and relaxed. It feels amazing lying in the fire, just watching the flames dance inside the fire pit. I close my eyes and let out a soft moan. My whole body seems to calm down after this relaxing experience.
However, my dream quickly comes to a halt. I wake up suddenly, wondering where I am and why I'm lying here alone. It's still early and everything seems to be quiet. Then I remember the dream, and I let out a big sigh. I hate dreams. At least this one wasn't horrible.
I get up from the sofa and walk towards the door, opening it. When I look at the hallway, I realize that it isn't empty at all. There's a man standing in front of my door with a large smile on his face.
"Good morning sweetie. How are you feeling?" He asks me while giving me a hug. His arms wrap around me tightly.
"I'm good dad. I missed you today," I say happily hugging him back.
He releases me and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek. Before he walks back toward our bedroom. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as he enters his room. I glance around, noticing my old childhood bedroom in his study. It hasn't changed since the last time I visited. It's always the same, even though I spent most of my childhood running around the mansion in a different world. I can't wait to spend more time with my father.
I follow my father and sit down on the leather couch. I watch him pack some clothes for me in my luggage.
"Is it possible to stay overnight at this campground?" I ask.
"Of course sweetie, you don't have to worry about money. There'll be plenty of things to eat."
That night I finally find out why I woke up late. My father is packing our bags for the trip to the mountain. My father has a cabin at the top of the mountain. I don't know how many days of traveling will be necessary, especially if my uncle has sent another group of soldiers to investigate. I know I shouldn't worry, but I cannot help it, my heart keeps pounding at the thought of what could happen tonight. I don' t know if my mom told him where I go, but I'm worried that he might have found my aunt, and come here looking for her. That's something I can't allow. My father has already lost enough friends.
Chapter 3 - Dora
Dora's POV
I watch the forest surrounding the small wooden cabin slowly fade away until all that's left is a large field covered by tall grass and scattered bushes. I turn around and see the little cabin, which was hidden by a huge tree. I guess my father didn't expect anyone else to visit, so he set up a tent on the other side of the clearing. As soon as I step past the trees, I smell the familiar scent that my uncle had taught me, pine trees. I smile and begin walking towards the small cabin.
Once I get to the edge of the clearing, I notice a small path leading through the middle of the forest, making its way down the hill. It's obvious that someone made this path, but I'm not sure if it was my uncle. Either way, it's nice having a fresh trail leading to my house. I follow it cautiously. After taking my backpack, I start running.
I can still feel the cold breeze on my neck from last night. It felt refreshing; no matter how hard I tried I couldn' t seem to shake the cold feeling from me. Even though I can't see my aunt anymore from where she stood last night, I hope she got home safely. If my mother ever finds out I let my aunt drive without permission, she's gonna kill me. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna die.
After sprinting for what seems like forever, I arrive at the entrance of the wooden cabin. The wooden cabin doesn't have a roof or any windows, so when I step inside, I have to squint to look around. I walk inside the small cabin and notice a wooden box sitting next to the window. I curiously inspect it and open it to see if there's anything inside, but sadly nothing's inside except for a single red rose that lays on top of an old, crinkled envelope. I reach for the card and flip it over.
Hello, dear niece.
You may not have received this letter yet, since I never gave it to your mother. However, there's no harm in sending it now. You probably haven't had a chance to read it yet, so I'll leave it for you to read now.
Sincerely,
Your Uncle Paul.
I frown when reading the words written on the card. Why does he seem to hate my mother so much? He said he'l never speak to her again, which means this has something to do with her death. I can't understand what he was thinking. I can't imagine how much pain he must be going through right now. But then again, who knows? This could be his way of coping with losing someone important to him.
I carefully put the letter down, not wanting to damage it somehow. I'm surprised to see that the only other thing inside the box is a pair of shoes. The soles are torn and the laces look slightly broken. These aren't normal shoes, they're obviously expensive. Whoever wears these shoes must be very wealthy. I also noticed a piece of paper that's laying underneath the shoes. I pick the paper up and unfold it.
Dear nephew,
Thank you for coming.
I read the note a few times before folding it back up and placing it inside the shoe box. I don't think I'm supposed to know what he wants me to do with these shoes. It probably involves tracking down my aunt, but I don't want to risk getting caught. Besides, my father probably wouldn't like it if I did. He said he'd have enough problems dealing with me being away from home for the first time since I turned 16. That means I have to hide my tracks. I don't know how he knows about this, but I know better than to ask him. I'll just wait until I figure out what he wants me to do later. I'll ask him then.
Just then I hear voices coming from outside my door. They stop talking when I open it and step out of my room, leaning against the doorway, waiting for them to enter the room. A few moments later, both my dad and my uncle walk inside.
My uncle sits down on the sofa, while my father takes the seat beside me. I take the seat on the armchair and sit there silently, waiting for them to tell me what this is all about.
My father looks at me for a few seconds, and then he clears his throat.
"We need to talk, son. I'm sorry to keep you waiting for so long. We have a lot to discuss," he says.
"So...what did you need to talk to me about?" I ask.
My father opens his mouth to answer me, but closes it immediately afterwards.
"We need to prepare you for the upcoming war," he finally answers, causing me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
"War?" I repeat with a frown.
"Yes. You'll start training tomorrow at dawn. Your instructor is named Marcus. He is your father's best friend, and he'll train you," my father explains.
"Marcus? Isn't that the guy who attacked my village?" I exclaim, trying to remember his name.
I don't remember him, but my father says that he has been working at the government base since my parents got married, so maybe we were close once. My memory doesn't work too well sometimes, so I'm not exactly sure. Anyway, I don't really care.
I look at my father with wide eyes and stare at him questioningly, waiting for him to continue.
"Yeah. He's one of the best hunters and fighters in the world. He's trained many hunters before, including your mother. He was the one who helped us with all those men who wanted to take you. He'll teach you everything he knows about hunting."
"But why did he attack my village?" I ask, not understanding what kind of trouble he could be in. He seemed harmless, almost like an ordinary hunter.
"It was because we found out your mom was involved in that fight against him. She fought bravely and killed quite a number of men. And unfortunately, she was captured and imprisoned. We managed to rescue her, but she had suffered a massive amount of wounds from the battle," my father explains.
"What do you mean by 'found out'? Who found out? Was she hurt badly?" I ask.
"No, we brought her back to the village. She was fine. At least as fine as she could be after a couple of months locked up in prison."
"She was imprisoned?" I asked with an incredulous voice. "In prison?"
"Yes. They were torturing her for information. Her brother was in charge of keeping the prisoners alive. So when he heard what happened to his sister, he decided to free her as soon as he could. It was only luck that they managed to get to her before she went crazy from the torture. She almost killed her brother, but luckily she didn't succeed. Her brother took her back to his cabin, but her family wasn't happy to see her. She was sentenced to two years imprisonment. Two years! How can they sentence a person for something that isn't even her fault!" my father exclaimed angrily.
Two years!? How cruel could they be? To be kept in such a horrible place and forced to live life in total isolation, while constantly wondering if there's a chance she could escape? That sounds so terrible.
"How could people do something so evil?" I mutter softly under my breath.
"There were a lot of angry people there. They hated her, but they didn't dare to confront the government, because they knew the government would hunt them all down. She was a valuable prisoner, but they didn't realize that. One day someone discovered her in prison, and she was taken away immediately. There was nothing anyone could do."
This was definitely a shock to learn about my mother. I guess I should be grateful I have two parents.
"That's why I thought it might be best for you to stay with Aunt Margaret for the time being," my father continues, "You're always welcome here, of course, but I'm afraid it won't make things easier for her if you're here as well."
I nod my head and reply, "Of course." Then, suddenly remembering something, I say, "Wait. Does this mean I have to move out?"
My father laughs and replies, "Don't worry. Your room is still available for you to use. Now, what else do you need help with?"
"Oh, um..well, the bookshelf next to my desk, that's all I've seen, so I'm guessing the rest should be in the trunk downstairs. And my clothes and my toiletries are in there as well. Oh, and I also bought some new shoes. Thank you, uncle, for letting me borrow them," I say politely.
"It's no problem. In fact, I've been meaning to give them to you. Let me go grab them," he replies, getting up from the sofa.
He walks past me, out of my room, and into the hallway. Once he's gone, I turn back to the box that I've been staring at earlier, curious as to where the letters came from. After opening the lid, I notice there's another box inside of the one containing the shoes and note. Taking the note out, I read the contents:
"Dear niece,
Do be careful, okay? Don't cause any trouble out there while I'm gone. Remember that I love you and will try to come back home soon. I wish I didn't have to send you off.
- Uncle Paul",
Uncle Paul. That's the same name my father told me when he first mentioned him to me. Is he a relative of my mum's as well? Maybe he used to visit and help her out or something? Whatever the reason is, I'm glad I'm not leaving my uncle behind. Although, I doubt I will see him for a while, considering what my parents told me just now.
After finishing the letter, I fold it back up and slip it into the shoe box before closing the lid and putting it aside on top of my dresser. I then turn around and return to the living room, where my uncle is already sitting back on the sofa.
"Ready to go?" he asks.
"Yep. Ready as ever," I respond.
"Great," he responds, getting up from his seat. "Let's get going."
After I climb up onto the wheelchair, and put it beside my father's chair, he grabs the handles and pushes me out of my room and down the hall. As soon as we exit through the front entrance, I feel myself beginning to grow anxious. What will happen when I leave home? Will I meet more soldiers? Will I run into them again? Will I become part of their army? I don't know.
As soon as we reach the elevator, my father presses the button for the bottom floor, while I sit quietly in my chair. Just before we reach the ground floor however, I hear someone calling my name from behind us.
I jump slightly and turn around, looking into the face of the man I met earlier today. His brown hair is neatly combed to the side, making him appear much younger than he actually is. His skin is pale, but not sickly pale. It's smooth and shiny. It's almost like porcelain. His eyes are light green, reminding me of emeralds. His lips are pink, just like mine, and his nose is slightly crooked.
"Hey, kid! Where are you taking the little girl? You know I don't want her to leave. I haven't seen her for so long..." he continues to speak without noticing that I'm not listening. Instead, I'm staring right at him. He's very attractive, but he makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Once he finishes talking, he turns to look at my dad. After seeing my father, he stops talking. Suddenly, a smile appears on his face, which doesn't look natural at all. It's creepy. My father smiles back, and he replies, "Thanks, Sam. We'll call you later, son. Okay? Bye, now," he says, waving goodbye to Sam.
Sam waves back, but doesn't look happy. Instead, his face seems to become darker. I think I see a glint of anger in his eyes, though I'm not sure how. I quickly look away from him.
I'm pretty sure he's mad at my father, but I don't know why. The last time I saw him, he was smiling. I wonder what he's thinking about now.
As soon as we enter the car, my father starts the engine, drives off, and leaves the house.
When we reach my house, he parks the car near the driveway.
"Are you coming inside?" he asks, turning off the car.
"Actually...I think I'll wait outside for a bit, please," I reply nervously.
"Sure. But hurry back inside so you can change," he says before getting out of the car. After he enters the house, he shuts the door.
I stare out the window for a few minutes after he leaves. I sigh heavily and lean my head back in the chair, gazing at the clear sky. I think about how wonderful it'd be to stay in this town forever. I'd finally be able to have a real home. Even if I don't get to meet any other children my age, it's still better than staying with my grandparents' village. But...I guess I'll never get to see anything like that again. Maybe I shouldn't complain too much. This is probably how my parents must've felt for a long time. But, if only it hadn't been for my grandmother's curse, maybe they wouldn't have had to suffer that way.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching reaches my ears. My heart starts racing and I start shaking uncontrollably. My hands grip tightly onto the arms of my seat.
"Are you alright, young lady?" a woman's soft yet concerned voice comes from behind me.
The voice surprises me a little bit since I've never really heard it before, nor have I seen her before. When I turn around and look at her, I notice that she has short white hair that's tied back in a ponytail. Her body is very thin and frail, but she still manages to stand tall and proud. She also wears a red dress with white gloves.
"Yes. I'm fine. Sorry if I startled you," I tell her.
"Not a problem at all. Are you hungry?" she asks.
"Um...not really. I'm good," I reply.
"Okay. If you ever need anything, just ask one of your servants. I'm sure they'd be happy to help you," she adds.
"Thank you," I whisper back awkwardly.
"Now, go ahead and enjoy the rest of your night. I hope you'll sleep well," the woman says with a smile. Then, she begins walking away.
She looks very kind. Why did she offer to help me out like that? Is she lonely? Or does she just want a job? I couldn't quite figure it out. I'm really sorry for disturbing her while she's working. Perhaps, she feels bad for me and wants to show her kindness. That's very nice of her.
"What are you doing still standing outside?" my father's voice suddenly interrupts my thoughts.
I quickly turn around to see him standing there watching me. He looks worried and angry.
"Sorry, father. I was just spacing out," I answer sheepishly, climbing down from the wheelchair.
"You're lucky your mother isn't here. If she found out you were still out here, she would've given you an earful about being rude to a guest," he explains, starting the car.
"Sorry. So, are we ready to go?" I ask.
"Almost. Just need to take care of something real quick. Wait here," he tells me, parking the car in front of the house. Then, he gets out of the car and heads towards the building, entering through the garage door. Soon, I hear him talking to somebody through a walkie-talkie.
A minute later, he exits the building once more with a large bouquet of roses in his hand. As soon as I see them, a bright grin spreads across my face.
"What's all this for, dad?" I ask curiously.
"For you. Happy birthday," he replies, handing me the flowers.
"Oh..thank you!" I exclaim happily, grabbing them from him and smelling them. They smell amazing. I wonder who gave them to me? My father says they came especially for me because, apparently, they're expensive. Well, they are, but still. Still, it' s nice to be given such a beautiful gift.
"They're not exactly for me, son. They're for...well...me," he admits, lowering his gaze.
Why is he saying that? Is he embarrassed? Or is he ashamed of himself for wanting me to have them? Does he have feelings for me? I don't know what to think. I feel hurt by my father's words, but I try not to let it show on my face.
"Well...that's great, dad. Thank you," I tell him after taking several deep breaths to compose myself. "Now, shall we go?"
"Uh...yeah. We should," he replies, nodding his head. "Bye," he adds, before heading towards the car and getting inside. I watch him until he disappears completely out of sight before following suit.
My father puts the bouquet into the backseat alongside our luggage. He climbs into the driver's seat and closes the door. Before he starts the engine, he glances back at me and raises his eyebrows questioningly.
"Do you want to stay here tonight, or do you want to come back to the hotel with us?" he asks, leaning forward so that he can talk to me in a low tone.
"I'll come with you. Don't worry. I promise. Besides, I have nothing else to do. And besides, my room's already filled with boxes, so I don't see the point in bringing new things," I laugh, trying to ease the tension between my parents and myself.
"Alright. Let's go then," he says before turning around.
We drive in silence until we arrive at the hotel. Then, my father helps me carry our suitcases up the stairs. Once we enter the room, he sets everything down. I follow suit after placing my suitcase next to the bed.
"Can I stay here tonight? Can I sleep in the same bed as you?" I ask excitedly.
"If you want to. I don't mind," he says with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"Great. Thanks, dad," I say, running over to my father and hugging him tightly. Then, I give him a tight squeeze as if to thank him for his concern. "You'll tell me everything tomorrow, won't you? Right now, I want to go to sleep."
"Of course. Now, get some rest, sweetheart," he replies softly.
I nod my head and make my way towards my suitcase, opening it and pulling out my pyjamas and pajama bottoms before going straight into the bathroom to change. Once I finish changing, I come out of the bathroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. My father follows me and sits on the edge of the bed.
"Goodnight, son. Sweet dreams," my father says before planting a kiss on my forehead.
"Goodnight, daddy. You too," I reply, giving him another hug before letting him go.
He then gets up and walks over to the door, turns off the light, and walks toward the bedroom door. Before he closes the door, he stops and gives me one last glance, which I return.
After my father has left the room, I lie down on the bed and close my eyes. I think about my mother again.
"Mum...where are you?" I mutter quietly, closing my eyes tightly and hoping that I can find you wherever you are. It's almost 3 o'clock in the morning, so, I doubt you'll be awake anyway. I hope you aren't asleep. I miss you so much...
***
The next day, I wake up earlier than usual. Today, I have a free day and I intend to spend it at the beach. As soon as I'm finished washing my breakfast dishes, I grab my bathing suit and put it on. Once I'm done, I leave my apartment and make my way to the elevator. When the elevator opens, I step inside and press the button marked 'Bathroom'. I wait patiently, listening to the sound of the doors slowly closing. The moment the elevator reaches the basement level and enters the corridor marked 'Laundry Room', I start making my way towards the laundry room.
Once I enter the laundry room, I find most of the machines already cleaned up, along with the other clothes stored neatly in their respective shelves. I decide to start by putting the dirty sheets into the basket and picking out clean ones. After doing that, I start hanging them on the line where the clothes hooks normally hang. I don't have any idea what I should do today. Usually, I would play games or read books or read a book or do something else that I usually do while waiting for my mom to pick me up from school. Today though, I'm feeling bored and I can't think of anything to do.
So, I decide to wash all the clothes. I start by folding each shirt carefully and putting them in the basket. Then, I take the clothes rack from the wall and place them on top of each other so that they will fit perfectly. Next, I pull out a pair of roller skates from a shelf and put them on my feet. I put on my boots and grab a bag containing my sandals. Finally, I grab a water bottle and fill it up with fresh water from the faucet.
While I'm doing that, the doors suddenly open and two familiar voices reach my ears. They're arguing loudly. They seem to be coming from the direction of the laundry room and it sounds as if they're arguing about something important. Maybe I could eavesdrop on their conversation if I'm careful. That doesn't seem like such a bad idea either.
After I'm done washing the clothes, I stuff them inside the empty plastic bags and replace them in the rack. Once I'm done with everything, I grab my bag full of my belongings and rush out of the laundry room, only managing to catch a glimpse of the two people who've been arguing a few seconds ago.
It takes me about 30 minutes to complete everything I have to do. I even helped some of the workers unload one of the trucks, which means that I'm actually having fun helping everyone out. I feel like I'm finally accomplishing something useful in my life, and that's a good thing.
When I finally manage to finish cleaning up, I head back upstairs to my room. I drop my bag onto my desk chair and immediately begin unpacking everything inside of it.
"What time are you guys leaving for work today?" I ask, sitting down on my bed.
"Not long. Around 8 o'clock, so just relax for today. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call us," Dad tells me, smiling reassuringly at me.
As soon as he finishes speaking, my phone rings. I look over at the caller ID and notice it's my best friend Kate.
"Hey, sis," I reply as I answer her phone call.
"Happy Birthday! How was your first night away from home?" she asks enthusiastically.
"It was wonderful, but now I'm ready to go back," I reply, chuckling lightly.
"How did you like the presents I got you?" she asks.
"Very much. They were perfect and you know how much I love those. But you didn't get me anything else, did you?"
"No, but I'm gonna get you something. I'm gonna pick you up right after work, okay?" she informs me.
"Okay. See ya. Have a good evening," I reply before ending the call.
Just then, my dad walks into the room. "How was your night? Did you have a good time?" he asks.
"Yeah, yeah I did. It was fine. Why?" I ask, looking up from my phone.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about. There's something I'VE wanted to talk to you about," he explains before walking up to me.
"Really? What is it?"
"Remember when I told you that your birthdays would never be celebrated because there is no money for them? Well, I have an idea. I know that your birthday falls on June 15th, but I thought this year would be different. So I decided that we should celebrate your birthdays together."
"Together?" I repeat curiously.
"Yes. Like every single year before, we'll celebrate your birthday together. At least for the whole summer break, anyway," he continues before grabbing a box out of his backpack.
I quickly stand up and walk over to him. "Wow, that's really nice of you. Thank you, dad. This is really cool," I reply, smiling brightly at him.
"No problem. Do you want help with putting these in the fridge and cabinets?"
"Sure. Just let me change out of my swimsuit and then I'll go get the ice cream from downstairs," I reply, nodding my head.
"Okay. I'll be waiting outside for you. Oh, and by the way, don't forget to wear sunscreen!" he adds.
"Thanks, I'll remember. I'll be back soon," I assure him.
When I'm done changing, I run downstairs to the kitchen and pick up the ice cream box. I hurry upstairs to my bedroom and put everything I've brought up to the refrigerator, before heading back downstairs to see my dad still standing outside, looking worried.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" he asks nervously.
"Of course it is. Don't worry about a thing," I assure him, placing my hands on his shoulder and smiling at him, causing him to smile slightly back. "I'd be happy if you came over for dinner tonight, but if not, you don't have to if you don't want to. I'll understand completely," I continue explaining.
My father smiles at me. "Alright. I'd be more than happy to come over for dinner."
I turn around and walk to the door before stopping dead in my tracks once I'm halfway to the door. I look behind me to see if my father is following me, but he isn't. I turn around and look through the small gap between the wooden frame of my bedroom door and the doorframe of my living room. I don't spot my father anywhere. I frown for a moment before closing the door once I'm sure he isn't following me anymore.
I turn around and walk back into my bedroom and close the door, locking it securely. After that, I climb into bed and lay down on my side facing the window. Before closing my eyes, I glance outside and notice that it's dark outside. It seems like it's going to be another beautiful day.
***
On the second day of my vacation, we meet up outside of school. We both get into the same car and we drive to the beach. When we arrive at the parking lot, I park my car near the edge of the beach. We exit our car and take off our shoes and socks before running towards the shoreline. As soon as we reach the beach, we walk past the waves, not noticing that they're crashing against our feet.
"Oh, wow," I whisper, taking in the view of the ocean. I stop in my tracks and look behind me to see my dad staring at the ocean, too. "This is absolutely amazing. How come you haven't taken me here ever since I was a kid?" I question my dad while turning my head towards him.
He turns his gaze towards mine. "Well, I had my reasons. For one, the sea is dangerous and it makes me anxious, and sometimes you're not supposed to get too close to it. You might drown. Also, you have enough trouble swimming, and it scares me seeing you drowning."
I laugh lightly, shaking my head, "You don' scare me, dad. I know you wouldn' let anything happen to me. Plus, I'm not even that afraid of the sea, you silly goose."
He laughs at my comment. "You're right, you're not. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm always worried about you, especially when it comes to the sea. You're lucky you live a short distance away from a beach. Otherwise, you could have died," he says sincerely.
"That's why I love the sea. I don't have to stay very far away from it to enjoy myself. And besides, I'm not really scared of it, anyway. You just sound silly because you always say silly things like that, dad," I tell him, sticking out my tongue teasingly.
"Oh, you wish you could hear what I say now. You'll regret saying that when I'm older," he replies with a smug grin on his face.
"Nope. I already know you'll say stupid stuff like that someday. I'm gonna make sure that I won't let you say that kind of thing until I become an adult," I reply with a confident smile.
"Fine. Your funeral," my father mutters, sighing defeatedly. He then grabs my hand and leads me over to a rock that's lying next to a large rock formation. "Look, this is where I usually sit when I come here. This used to be my favourite place in the world to watch the sunset. Even though it's pretty cold today, I can still see the sun slowly disappearing underneath the horizon. This feels like another dream that I never want to wake up from," he says, smiling softly.
I look at him for a moment, wondering if I should say something. Eventually, I decide that I shouldn't hold back and tell him what I think of his statement. "Actually, dad, you don't have to watch the sun set every day. It's pretty rare for anyone to be able to watch the sun set every day," I tell him.
My dad looks at me for a brief second, before letting out a chuckle. "Are you sure? Most people don't appreciate watching the sun setting each day."
"No. That's not true. Not all people are like that. Some people enjoy looking at the sunrise and sunset, or the stars, or the moon. People who enjoy nature also love looking at the stars, right?" I question him.
"Right. Yeah, they do."
"Then why would they dislike watching the sun rise and set everyday? If that was their reason for not enjoying looking at the sun, then I guess it really doesn' matter. I mean, the sun rises and sets, and so does the moon. I think that most people just don't realise that they need to enjoy watching the sun rise and set. Because some people just don't."
"I suppose you're right. I guess I'm wrong about people hating the sun rising and setting. I guess I was just looking at the sunset without thinking about it," my father agrees, chuckling softly.
"Exactly! And hey, you're not alone because lots of other people feel like that too."
"I suppose you're right," my dad repeats.
We walk around for a little longer before eventually deciding that we should leave. Once we get into the car, he starts driving back home. I turn my attention towards the window and start thinking about what he said. Maybe I am right. Maybe everyone has reasons of theirs why they hate the sun rising and setting. It's only been ten minutes since we left school, but I can already tell that we're going to be late.
"Hey Dad? Can you please pull into the driveway?" I ask, breaking my thoughts.
"Sure thing," he responds.
After pulling into the driveway, he shuts off the engine and takes a seat back in his chair. "So...what happened? Are you feeling alright? You seem a bit nervous, sweetheart," he comments.
"Yeah. Everything's fine. I was just having fun today. I wanted to go to the beach because it's so quiet and it was just so peaceful. I just wanted to relax. I don't want to talk about the incident or the fact that my boyfriend and girlfriend got into an argument today," I inform him, crossing my arms across my chest and looking at my lap.
"Ah. Okay. So you did have a bad day, huh?"
"I didn't mean it like that. I promise. I wasn't mad at him. I just wanted to spend time with him. But we got into an argument."
"Why were you arguing with your boyfriend?"
"It was nothing important," I mumble quietly.
"If it was nothing important, then why did you argue with him?"
"It's really none of your business."
"Is it because of your mom? Is she doing something wrong again?" my dad questions me, looking over towards me.
"No, actually."
"Good. If there's something bothering you two, you can tell me anything. If you want, I'll always support you," he says, giving me a genuine smile.
"Thank you, dad. That means a lot." I give him a warm smile and lean forward and hug him tightly.
A few seconds later, I hear the front door open and close. "Dad? I'm home!"
"In here, honey!" my dad shouts back.
I quickly hop off the couch and rush into the kitchen. "Hi, mom," I greet her, hugging her gently.
She laughs slightly at my greeting and pulls me in closer. "Hello, dear," she tells me, kissing the top of my head.
"How did it go?" I ask.
"Oh, it went good. They didn't get in too much trouble, and your dad didn't say anything about it. The principal just informed us of your suspension and told us to bring you in immediately when you got back," she explains, grabbing the newspaper sitting on the counter. She opens the paper and hands it to me.
I read the article and gasp when I see what I did to my sister.
"Do you remember what happened yesterday?" my mom asks.
I shake my head and glance up from the paper. "No. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it, sweetie. What matters now is that you're back," she says, smiling slightly at me.
"Mom?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Can we go swimming later?" I ask excitedly.
"Of course. Why don't you pick out a swimming costume and meet me downstairs," my mother suggests before walking out of the kitchen.
I grab my phone and text Tyler asking him to meet me downstairs. As soon as he responds with yes, I run upstairs to my room, throw my backpack onto my bed, and pull out a white tank top and pair of red swim shorts. I put my phone in my pocket and grab my towel and my board. I race down the stairs and into the living room, stopping in front of my parents. My mom and dad are sitting on the couch together, laughing loudly. "What's so funny?" I ask them curiously as I take a seat beside my dad.
"Nothing," my mom tells me, covering her mouth with both of her hands to stop herself from laughing anymore.
"Okay..." I respond hesitantly. I don't think there's anything I can say to convince them to explain themselves. "What were you guys talking about anyways?"
"Your brother asked me if it would be okay to watch the sun set with you and your dad today. He didn't specify which beach, and we ended up watching the sunset instead."
"Aw. That's so cute," I gush, wrapping my arms around my father's neck and squeezing him tightly.
"Didn' you already know?"
"Not really. It seemed more interesting than homework, so I thought I'd join you guys," I admit, blushing lightly.
"You're so cute, Y/N. Now hurry up. I want to catch the sunset with my son before you get bored of us," my dad tells me.
I smile brightly as I grab my surfboard and follow my father outside. We've been swimming quite a few times ever since we came here, so the backyard isn't as big as it once was. However, even though it's a bit of a mess, it still looks beautiful. There are some flowers scattered around here and there, making it seem a lot prettier than it used to be. And even though we haven't seen any fish, we've seen plenty of birds flying around. A couple have even landed near the pool that we're currently standing by.
As I stand staring at the birds, my dad wraps his arm around me and pulls me close to him. "The first time we came here, we had to fight off our neighbors to get a decent spot to watch the sun setting. After that, it became one of our favourite places to hang out. Although you did try to eat all the food on the table while we were eating dinner," my dad informs me, smiling fondly.
"And after dinner we usually go swimming. I never really understood why you hated swimming so much, because you look like you could be a great swimmer. Do you mind telling me what made you want to swim so badly?" my dad asks me.
"Well, I started watching it as soon as I found out that you were a champion swimmer. I loved seeing how much effort you put into training. Whenever you tried to teach me, I always struggled to keep up with you," I explain, looking over at my dad.
"Wow. Well, thank you for telling me all this. It means a lot to me," my dad responds.
After that conversation, we spent the rest of the day swimming, playing with Benji and the dogs, and taking walks through the woods. Even though I still don't feel completely comfortable talking to my dad about everything that happened yesterday, I feel a lot better after talking to him about it.
Once it gets dark enough to go out in the water, we decide to go home before we end up getting caught by the neighbor's kids. When we arrive home, I grab my board from my bag and take a quick shower before changing into my clothes. Since I'm pretty tired, I decided to stay in bed until lunch tomorrow to avoid getting hungry. After finishing up with my routine, I crawl under the covers and fall asleep within minutes.
Chapter 4
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Wake up, sleepyhead! Time to wake up!"
My eyes slowly flutter open. As soon as I do, I realize that I'm not where I'm supposed to be. Instead of being in my bedroom, I'm standing in the middle of my dad's living room. Looking down at myself, I realize that I'm wearing a large t shirt and my pyjama pants. Where did these come from? Did I wear them last night?
"Daddy?" I call out, still trying to comprehend the situation.
"Morning, sunshine," my dad answers.
"Where am I?" I ask him, my voice sounding slightly muffled.
"That would be hard for me to explain. Your parents and I decided to take you out to celebrate your birthday. We figured that you needed a change of scenery. Don't worry. There were no plans for you to go out anywhere else, except maybe to the park or somewhere around town."
I stare at the floor, unsure of what to say. "But how did we get here? How long was I asleep?"
"About four hours. We took a nice stroll through the forest. We're going to have to go through the woods again soon to find the perfect place for your surprise party," my dad tells me, causing me to smile a little. "Now, let's get ready so we can head out."
"Wait. Aren't you forgetting something? Like...the fact that I'm grounded?"
"Ah, right. You need a ride to school," my dad comments. I nod and sit down on one of the couches.
"Hey, dad? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, what's up?" he responds as he heads over to his dresser and starts searching through his drawers for something to wear.
"Have you ever met anyone who goes through things differently than everyone else?"
He stops what he's doing and turns to face me. "Yeah. Sure. Of course," he tells me, furrowing his eyebrows confusedly.
"When I talked to my therapist earlier, she said that I was different. She mentioned something called 'dysfunction'. Does that mean I'm abnormal?"
He takes a deep breath before replying. "No, not at all. Dysfunction is basically an extreme personality disorder. Most of us have it. Some of us don't. For example, I have anxiety, depression, panic attacks, and other common disorders. I also have severe dyslexia. And you, sweetheart, are definitely not normal. In fact, you're one of the most unusual people that I've ever met."
"Really? So, I'm not special?" I ask, raising my eyebrows a little.
"Not at all. You just happen to have an extremely low self confidence level. If you weren't like that, you wouldn't have such issues with school. Everyone has their fair share of problems."
"So, you're saying that I should be able to tell whether I'm normal or abnormal, right?"
"Exactly," he replies, putting on a pair of shorts and then throwing on a black T-shirt.
"Why does every child have to be a freak?" I complain, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's like you and mom never noticed before. And I know we've been having the same conversations for awhile, but I guess I've just gotten used to hearing it all the time, so it doesn't bother me anymore," I add quietly.
"I'm sorry that I ever implied that you were a freak. I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't mean to make you think that way either," my dad assures me. "We just don't want you to think that we're treating you differently because you've become depressed after your parents died. You shouldn't feel bad because you're different from the rest of us."
"I understand. It's just weird that we're not the only ones with such problems. What about my friends? Do they have similar problems?"
"Actually, yes they do. They're all bipolar. They aren't exactly the norm in this world," he explains.
"Oh. Okay," I mumble, nodding my head in understanding. "Can I ask you something else?" I finally ask him.
"Of course."
"Am I abnormal?"
"How old are you now, Y/N?" he questions, narrowing his eyes at me.
"Seventeen," I reply, biting my lip nervously.
"Do you remember when you were born?" he continues asking, tilting his head slightly to the side.
"I don't."
"Okay. So you're definitely not abnormal. But that doesn't matter to me. All I care about is that you're happy. I'll never be able to replace your parents, but as long as you're happy and healthy, I'll be happy too," he says, placing his hand on my cheek.
"Thank you," I mutter, smiling up at him.
"Anytime," he smiles back.
Suddenly, we hear a loud shriek coming from downstairs followed by laughter. My heart starts racing, wondering what could have caused that sound. I quickly turn my attention away from him and run towards the stairs, eager to see what's happening. Once I reach the stairs, I jump down the steps and rush into the kitchen, which is now filled with the smell of freshly baked cookies. The house seems to be empty.
"Is anyone in here?!" I shout out loud, hoping someone will answer me. Suddenly, I hear footsteps walking across the wooden floors.
A few seconds later, I turn to the side, facing the source of the footsteps. Sitting on the sofa is Benji. He must have just got out of the bath. He's wearing a green towel draped over his shoulders, which is covering up his upper body and half of his face, making it impossible to see what color his eyes were. His hair is wet, and strands of it are sticking to his skin. As soon as he notices me, he starts moving closer to the edge of the couch to give me space.
I immediately step to the side and start running upstairs. As soon as I get to my bedroom, I lock the door, knowing that the only person that's allowed inside is my dad and mom. I collapse onto my bed and hug my pillow tightly. I can't believe this. My mother is dead, and my father is acting like nothing happened yesterday. What kind of messed up life do they live if I'M the one that has to deal with all of this?
I sigh loudly, letting the tears slip out from behind my closed eyes and dripping off my cheeks. Why couldn't things have turned out differently? Why couldn't I have been born normal? Or even better yet, why was I born with all of these crazy abilities? I pull my knees up to my chest, bury my face in my legs, and curl up in a ball.
This isn't my life. This isn't my life at all.
Chapter 5
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next two weeks pass relatively uneventfully. During that time, Benji, my dad, and I spend almost all our time together, especially when he isn't with my mom. My dad and I continue to teach each other new tricks while working on various projects that he's developing. Sometimes, we work alone, other times, we work in teams of two.
Every afternoon, I head back to school. On those days, I usually walk directly past Mrs. Jones's class and try to ignore her presence. Sometimes, I manage to catch sight of Benji, who always gives me a big grin whenever I see him. Other times, I walk right past him and pretend that I haven't seen him. Either way, I ignore him, and try not to think about him.
Today, I managed to avoid Mrs. Jones during lunch break. Unfortunately, the bell rings before I manage to get out of there, allowing her to call after me. "Y/N! Wait!"
My feet automatically speed up when I hear her call my name. I stop when I notice her following closely behind me. I slowly turn my head around to look at her.
"Hi," she whispers, stopping in front of me. She reaches up and lightly touches my forehead with the tips of her fingers. I flinch away from her touch.
"Sorry," she apologizes, placing her hands by her sides. "Your temperature seems to be much higher today. Are you feeling alright?" she asks me.
I nod my head hesitantly. "Um, yeah. Everything is fine. Sorry that I bothered you," I mutter, turning around to leave the hallway.
"Hey, wait! Don't leave yet. Come here," she calls out, grabbing my arm and pulling me back to her.
"What do you want?" I question, looking into her hazel eyes.
"I wanted to talk to you. About last night," she whispers.
"What about it?"
She takes a few more steps forward until she's standing inches away from me. "You know, I saw you. When you first arrived. When you walked outside. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't find the words. Then, you started talking to yourself. Did you need anything?"
"Uh... No, I didn't. Thank you," I mutter.
Mrs. Jones sighs. "Are you sure?" She looks at me with worried eyes.
I nod my head again. "Yes, ma'am. I promise," I smile.
Her eyes widen, and she lets go of my arm. "Right. Well, I was going to say that I'm glad that I made you smile. That's important to me," she says, giving me a small smile.
I blush, but quickly hide my face again by looking down at the ground. "Well, um, I think I gotta go. Have a nice day," I mutter awkwardly, taking a couple steps backwards before turning around and running out of the room.
I don't even realize that I ran outside, since I didn't plan on leaving for some reason. I just needed to be away from her. From them. I take a seat on the curb of the sidewalk, resting my head on my knees. I'm sitting there for a good fifteen minutes before someone sits next to me. They put their arm around my shoulder and hold me close to them.
"I didn' t mean to scare you," I hear Benji whisper in my ear.
"You didn't scare me. I'm just tired and upset," I tell him, lifting my head up to face him.
"I figured. Your face is red, and you keep rubbing your nose like it hurts. Is everything okay?" he asks, leaning forward slightly to examine my face.
"Yeah. Everything's fine. Just really emotional today. How about you? Any problems?" I ask, hoping to distract myself from my thoughts.
Benji shrugs his shoulders. "Not really. Everyone's pretty happy today. Even Ryan seems happier than usual. We have an extra practice match coming up soon though, so maybe he's getting sick or something."
"That makes sense. Does everyone know about what happened yesterday?" I ask curiously.
"They do now," he answers, nodding his head slowly. I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to elaborate. "Mom found out that I was in your house and tried to convince me to go home. But I refused, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. Apparently, she went to your room and knocked on the wall until I opened up the door, which surprised me. She told me to come home with her right then, but I refused again. She threatened me and said that she would take me to court if I didn't come. Luckily, I had an idea what to do and convinced her that I'd rather stay here. She agreed reluctantly, but told me that if I wasn't back in three hours, she wouldn't hesitate to go to court and force me to go home."
"Sounds scary."
He nods his head once again. "It really was. I've never been in danger of getting sent away before, but I guess I'm just scared. I'm still scared of her, although, I feel a little different around you, like I know that you aren't a threat."
"Good. Now come on. Let's head back to school before anyone sees us," I suggest.
"Alright," he agrees, sliding off the bench and holding out his hand to help me up.
We walk slowly back through the parking lot, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once we get into the car, Benji places his arm around my shoulder, causing me to giggle quietly. I lean against his chest, enjoying his warmth.
After about five minutes, we arrive back at school, both of us laughing at random times. As we approach the main entrance, I look up at Benji and smile. He looks down at me with a soft expression on his face.
"Thanks for walking me home," I say, squeezing his hand slightly.
He gives me a bright smile. "No problem. See you tomorrow." And then, without another word, he disappears through the doors, probably headed to his locker.
I open the door to my classroom and enter quietly. I sit down at my desk, avoiding eye contact with most of my classmates. After what happened earlier, I don't know how many of them noticed what I did. The teacher doesn't seem to care about it either. She tells us to get ready to start class, and as soon as she opens the textbook, I turn to look out of the window and rest my chin on top of my folded arms. My mind wanders to the events that took place during lunchtime, but I decide not to focus on them anymore.
"Mr. Harris?" Mrs. Jones suddenly exclaims, looking over her glasses at me. "What's wrong with your cheek?"
I lift my hands and stare at them. There's a dark red mark on the left side of my face, which is covered by a layer of makeup. It looks exactly like a bruise. I sigh deeply before answering.
"Nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing to me," she remarks. She puts her finger underneath my chin and turns my head towards her. Then, she moves my hands aside and examines my face closer. She shakes her head slightly before turning back to her work.
I lower my gaze to the floor. Suddenly, one of the students sitting next to me raises his hand. "Miss Y/L/N? Is this really necessary? Mr. Harris can answer these questions himself," he says, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"Excuse me, Mr. Williams, but this is a mandatory activity," Mrs. Jones retorts calmly. "Now, please pay attention to what Ms. Evans has to say. If you would kindly follow her instructions and stop interrupting her, perhaps you would get an A+ on your final grade for the year."
The guy glares angrily at her, but he remains silent.
"Alright, Mr. Harris. I apologize," Mrs. Jones says with a fake, sympathetic tone. "But I'm afraid that there are no excuses now. So, I expect your complete attention in class. Is that understood?"
There's a moment of silence before the boy grumbles, "Yes, ma'am," before slumping in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest.
"Thank you. Please return to your seats," she adds. Then, she turns back to her paper and begins to write on it.
My phone dings in my bag, signaling an incoming message.
Unknown: Hey, it's me. You're doing well, right? :)
Me: Yeah, I am. What about you? Why aren't you texting?
Unknown: I was busy ;)
Me: You weren't busy during lunch, were you? Because that's where I was when I found you.
Unknown: Oh my god, why are you always so suspicious???
Me: Well, I thought you were kidnapped or something
Unknown: Oh, haha very funny lol. No, I'm not. I'm actually doing something productive right now. :)
Me: What?
Unknown: Just something you'll have to see for yourself :)
Me: Oh, really? Like what?
Unknown: It's a surprise. Can't tell :)
Me: Ughhh fine. Fine. Whatever
Me: See you later :)
Unknown: Bye <3 :)
---
After school ends, I hurry home, hoping that Mom isn't home. When I finally reach our apartment, I quickly take my shoes off before heading straight to my room.
"Y/N! Come here, quick!" I hear Benji shout from somewhere in the living room. I groan in frustration and run over to his voice.
"What do you want now, B?" I call impatiently as I enter the living room.
"Come look at this video game I found in your dad's basement! Come quick!" he yells excitedly.
I roll my eyes as I make my way to the stairs. "Why are you talking so fast? I'm literally right behind you."
Once I'm in the living room, Benji shows me the video game controller he's holding. It's a racing game with some sort of mechanical bird chasing some kind of animal that's running away from it. "I've been playing it for a while, and I'm starting to wonder if the bird could catch up to the animals if they all ran together. Wouldn't that be cool?" he wonders aloud.
"Yeah, sure. Sounds awesome. But what's the point of the race if they just run away anyway? It's stupid," I respond.
"Yeah, but think about it. They can run faster than the bird and catch up more easily. Isn't that cool?" Benji asks, smiling excitedly. I sigh heavily, knowing that this conversation is gonna go nowhere, but decide to humor him anyway.
"Yeah... I guess it is kinda cool."
"See! So you'll try it?" he presses eagerly.
"Ughh, alright! I'll try it, but only if you buy me a new controller," I reply, smirking slightly.
He scoffs, but smiles widely nevertheless. "Whatever."
"So... is that a yes or a no? Because I'm buying you a new controller," I say, raising my eyebrow at him.
"Fine, fine," he responds exasperatedly. "Just make sure it's better than yours. And you'll have to learn how to play it properly, too. Otherwise, it won't be as fun as it sounds."
"Sure, whatever. Let's go check this thing out." I turn away from Benji and begin walking to the basement. I hear him following behind me and we step onto the stairs leading down. "Are you coming or not?"
"Of course I am."
As we descend the stairs, I pull out my phone. I scroll through Instagram while Benji walks down next to me. Eventually, we make it downstairs and step into Dad's office. I close the door gently behind us and turn to glance at Dad who is sitting behind his computer, typing furiously on his keyboard.
"Where have you two been?" he inquires as he glances up at us.
"Uh, we were helping Mrs. Jones with something for her class," Benji replies awkwardly.
Dad nods knowingly, and then goes back to concentrating on whatever he's working on. I sigh inwardly, wondering what he thinks he saw, but decide not to bring it up again. Instead, I set my phone down on the table and move over to look over Dad's shoulder at whatever he's writing.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you find any records about the people that were murdered in the house last week?" I ask curiously. Dad frowns slightly and stops writing.
"Um, no. Nothing like that," he replies after a few moments. "Do you know anything about them?"
"Not yet. But I might," I reply mysteriously.
"Is everything okay?" Benji asks worriedly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nod slowly, unsure of myself.
"Yeah, I just wanna know how to find their families. Do you think you could help me?" I ask hopefully.
"Well, I guess I could give you their names and addresses and such. You might want to ask Mrs. Jones to help you, though, since she seems pretty knowledgeable about this stuff," Dad suggests.
"Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that," I mutter under my breath. "I'll definitely ask her about it. Thanks, Dad."
"Don't mention it," Dad says with a smile as he continues to type on his keyboard. After a couple of minutes pass, he pauses what he's doing and looks up at me. "How are you feeling today?"
I shrug. "Eh. I feel good," I reply quietly.
He stares at me for a second, studying my facial expression. I notice that his eyes are narrowed a little. Before he can say anything else, Benji pipes up.
"Can we watch the video games now? We still have a lot of homework to do," he says with a forced smile.
Dad stands up from his seat and nods. "I'll start working on those assignments now, so make sure you guys get started too. Make sure to finish the homework first, though," Dad instructs. He looks over at me for a brief second before he starts to head toward the hallway that leads to the bedroom.
Once he's completely disappeared from view, Benji turns around to face me. "You okay?" he asks softly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply with a small smile. Then, I sit down on the couch next to him and put my backpack on the floor. "So, let's play. Where do we start?"
Benji grabs one of the controllers lying on the coffee table in front of us, handing it to me. "Here you go. Try this one. It's called Racing Cars, and it uses rockets. Try to keep up with the cars and keep your distance. The fastest car wins."
"Oh, I don't know. How am I supposed to do that, Benji? I don't know how to drive. You're supposed to show me how," I complain. Benji rolls his eyes, but obliges nonetheless.
After a minute of Benji explaining the controls and showing me which buttons to press, I suddenly remember another important piece of information. "Hey, did you happen to talk to Mom earlier today?"
"No, not today. Why?"
"I dunno. She told me to text her whenever I'm finished with my homework, but I didn't remember seeing her yesterday when I finished my homework. I wanted to ask her what time she went to bed last night."
"She probably went to sleep at around 11:30," Benji informs me before pressing a button on the controller and hitting the steering wheel aggressively. "Ow. Stupid car."
I smirk and push a random button on the controller as well. "I can't wait for you to lose a game against me," I tease.
"Like you can even beat me at racing cars," Benji retorts before turning to the screen and pressing a few buttons. "Alright, so we both go first. Ready?"
"Ready," I agree confidently.
"One, Two-"
"Wait! Wait, stop! No racing cars! Not until I'm done," I argue.
Benji rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever."
We continue to play and chat with each other for almost an hour before we finally finish our assigned homework. We both stand up and stretch, looking over at each other to see how we did.
"That was pretty intense, huh?" Benji chuckles.
I grin and agree. "Yeah, it sure was. Let's do that again sometime."
"Maybe." Benji shrugs. We continue to walk upstairs until we reach my room. After changing into my pajamas, I lie down in my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to process everything that happened today. It hasn't quite hit me just yet, but I hope it does soon.
As soon as I start to fall asleep, however, a thought pops into my head.
Was there anything strange about what Mr. Jenkins said about the murders being committed by someone else? Maybe... just maybe, he was saying that it wasn't the first murder of these people. Maybe Mr. Jenkins was the killer.
Chapter 5
I wake up bright and early Monday morning, my thoughts full of nothing but questions as I stare up at my ceiling and reflect on all of the things I've learned today. After getting dressed and eating breakfast, I wander into the living room and grab my backpack, putting on some shoes before heading outside. As soon as I walk out the door, I spot Mr. and Mrs. Jones standing in front of the fence, talking to each other and laughing loudly. It looks as if Mrs. Jones has been crying recently, so I guess Mr. Jones must have made some kind of comment regarding her. Judging from her behavior last night, it doesn't seem like she's gotten very far along either.
I walk up to them and wave. "Morning!" I call cheerfully. Mrs. Jones looks over at me with a slightly surprised expression, whereas Mr. Jones gives me a warm smile. "Hi, Kayla. Good morning!"
"Good morning, Kayla! Have you had a nice rest?" Mr. Jones asks, giving me a pat on the shoulder.
"Yes, thank you! Um, I actually came over here because I was wondering if you knew why the police are asking around about this case," I tell them.
They exchange a few confused glances with each other before Mr. Jones lets out an awkward laugh. "What do you mean? Aren' they always asking 'bout 'is case?"
"Um, no, not really. They've only asked about it once since I moved here," I explain.
Mrs. Jones lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes her head slightly. "I guess it's a little weird they'd be asking about the murders right now, huh? Maybe they found something in the files. Or, it's more likely that they're just making assumptions based off of what they have on file."
I furrow my eyebrows. That would make sense, wouldn't it? They'd assume that whoever killed these people is responsible for killing the three others. And that's exactly what I'm worried about. What if I am wrong? What if I'm not capable of knowing the truth? What if the person I'm searching for isn't dead? What if he is alive somewhere and I don't know it? I take a deep breath and shake my head. There's no point worrying about it right now. For starters, I don't even know where I am right now, so how am I supposed to figure out who I'm searching for? I'm going to need to focus on figuring out who these people are so that I can try and figure out what they want. I sigh and turn my gaze towards Mr. and Mrs. Jones.
"Anyways, um..." I begin hesitantly. "...do you guys know anyone named 'Huxley'? Or 'Wright', or 'Mackenzie', or something like that?"
Mr. Jones frowns and furrows his brows in confusion. "Why do you ask?"
I shrug. "Just curious, I guess."
"Well, I suppose we should check the newspapers and the internet," Mrs. Jones suggests after a moment.
"Okay." I turn away and begin walking toward the direction of the newspaper office.
"Wait, Kayla. Come back here," Mr. Jones commands me when he realizes that I'm not going to listen to him. "Where are you going? Don't you need any directions?"
"Yeah, I do, but I've already memorized your route, so don't worry." I turn back and smile at him. "I'll meet you at the newspaper office."
He smiles and nods as he watches me leave. Once I'm out of sight, he turns back to his wife. "Did you hear what Kayla said? She already knows the routes and where everything is located in the house," he exclaims excitedly.
Mrs. Jones laughs. "Yeah, she seemed pretty confident about remembering everything," she agrees. "It's nice that she can remember her own route so well when she comes back home. She usually forgets which route she needs to take sometimes."
"I guess that makes sense since we've never been there ourselves," he responds while nodding his head lightly. After thinking about what she just said for a few seconds, he suddenly gasps. "Do you think we could ask Kayla if she knows who the murderer might be? I mean, we already checked everywhere else in the house, and none of us ever found anybody matching their description," he states.
"Sure thing, honey. Just give me a minute to make us some breakfast," Mrs. Jones replies, beginning to walk off towards the kitchen.
"Okay, thanks, honey," he calls after her before turning his attention back toward where I ran off to a few minutes ago. He follows behind her silently, hoping that the conversation that they just had was helpful enough for her to remember a way for us to find the person. But when he gets to the kitchen, there's nothing there except for a couple of dishes left on the counter that were definitely washed already. When he walks further into the kitchen, he finds that Kayla and her mom haven't moved from their spots on the couch, still watching TV and talking about the same old topics that everyone in Hawkins seems to have discussed multiple times today already.
After standing there for another moment, he decides to simply ignore the situation altogether. Instead, he takes a seat next to Kayla on the couch and turns to watch the movie that he brought, which apparently involves a bunch of robots fighting one another and getting beaten to death by a lot of people. I can't help but laugh quietly as I watch this, and I notice Kayla doing the same thing beside me. After a couple of moments later, however, we hear footsteps coming from the direction of the stairs, indicating that someone is coming down.
Before we know it, our visitor appears in the doorway. The newcomer is wearing sunglasses despite the fact that it's a sunny day outside; he also appears to be holding an umbrella, which he puts down near the front entrance of the house after entering the house. Upon stepping inside, he stops and surveys the surroundings with interest. His eyes land directly on Mr. and Mrs. Jones, then move across the room and eventually come to rest on me and my friend. He raises an eyebrow and takes his glasses off. "You two know each other?" He inquires, raising his voice slightly so that everyone in the house (and those who couldn't hear) can hear him clearly.
Mr. and Mrs. Jones turn to face the man in front of them, and they both look somewhat flustered and embarrassed. "Oh, uhm..." Mrs. Jones starts, clearing her throat nervously. "This is our daughter, Kayla. She lives here with us."
The man nods slowly. "Ah, I see. Is that right?"
"Yup. That's right," I respond, smiling brightly at him and giving him a small wave.
"So, um, are you two married or...? You know, living together?" The man asks curiously, gesturing toward Mr. Jones and myself.
"No, we aren't," Mr. Jones answers quickly, a blush rising to his cheeks. "But we're good friends."
"Oh... okay. Well... have fun on the date. And don't stay out too late. I don't want her getting into anymore trouble than she already is." With that, the man turns around and leaves the house quickly. Not wanting to waste anymore time on pleasantries, Mrs. Jones heads back toward the dining room, leaving the two of us alone.
"We don't live together, though. Why would we?" Mr. Jones repeats my earlier words in an annoyed tone, although he looks almost amused by them.
"Oh, right." I nod my head. "Sorry. I just wondered..."
"And I figured you were gonna ask about the case again," Mr. Jones finishes for me. I let out an embarrassed laugh. "Don't worry, I won't tell you anything unless you ask me directly," he tells me.
"Alright then. Thanks anyway, Dad." I stand up from the couch and grab a nearby notebook off of the coffee table before heading back upstairs without another word. I'm sure he has plenty of other things to get caught up on. Besides, I have a feeling he'd rather spend his time looking for clues for the case than helping me figure things out. He probably wants to get this whole thing over and done with as soon as possible.
A few minutes later, I finish setting up all my notes and writing on a few of the blank pieces of paper that I had pulled out of my backpack, deciding that I don't need to write anything down anymore today. Since I'm already sitting down, I decide to take out my phone, hoping I'd receive any new text messages during my lunch break. It's only half past eleven in the morning, so most of the students will already be at school by now. However, considering the fact that I have to go to work at some point today, I figured I'd start preparing myself early in case I need to make a quick escape once classes end.
As I open up the browser and look through my recent texts, I feel my stomach lurching uncomfortably. I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath, trying desperately to calm myself. No matter how hard I try, though, nothing works, and the more I try, the worse it gets. I sigh heavily, knowing that I have to figure out a solution to whatever is bothering me as soon as possible, because I really don't have the energy to deal with this right now. As I stare at the phone, debating whether I should call someone, or try to distract myself with something else, a sudden thought occurs to me. Maybe I shouldn't be calling. Maybe it's better if I just wait until the problem goes away on its own. After all, if the situation does go away completely, maybe it won't bother me anymore. I mean, there's nothing I can do about the problem itself, right? If it doesn't bother me, then it must be harmless, right? After I realize that I'm only prolonging the inevitable, I finally press the CALL button, and within seconds, the ringing sound fills my ears, signaling that someone has answered.
"Hello?" A deep male voice speaks. It sounds kind of familiar. Almost like...
"Hey, Mom."
Chapter 7
There's a long silence between the both of us, and neither of us say anything for several seconds. Eventually, her mother breaks the silence by saying, "Hi, Kayla! Are you having a good week?" Her voice sounds nervous, as if she didn't expect me to call her.
"Yes," I reply curtly. "What about you? Have you seen your sister lately? How's she taking all of the new changes in the house?"
She lets out a sigh as she responds, "I haven't talked to her yet. Actually, I hadn't seen her for quite a while. She's been spending most of her time at my brother's place, staying there whenever I come home from work. Do you know why that is?"
"Nope. I have no idea," I admit, shaking my head.
"Well, it's a little complicated, I suppose. We weren't exactly friends at first, but after I started working for you guys, she became really friendly. I think that I helped her a lot with the adjustment process in order to help her feel comfortable staying there. After all, I've stayed there before and knew about some of the things that were happening there. Now that things have calmed down some, she spends less time at home and tries to keep busy. It's probably harder for her to come home now that she has to live with me and Dad. Anyway, I think it's great that she'e starting to be happy again. I hope it stays that way."
"Me too." I nod my head slowly. "Are you going to stay there tonight?" I wonder.
"Yeah, yeah, I am. I don't have anything planned for tomorrow, anyway. I'm supposed to be meeting with a lawyer for a job offer from an investment company. They want me to work at an office building and handle their business operations."
"Do you have a firm name yet? What exactly does your job entail?"
"It's called 'Managing Financial Information.' They want me to be involved in a lot of financial data management projects, which means that I'll have to learn a lot of technical stuff, so I should be able to get hired on very soon. I'm actually really excited about it."
"Sounds interesting. So, what's the job position you got?" I continue the conversation with a genuine curiosity, hoping to learn something about this mysterious man, whom I am now beginning to consider my father.
"It's kind of boring. All I'll be doing for the first few months is keeping track of everything that goes on around me, especially in the office. Then I'll be promoted, and I'll be responsible for handling all of the financial information that comes through our offices, as well as managing the employees."
"Wow. Sounds pretty cool. Any reason for that promotion?"
"Because it pays well. Also, since I'm young, they believe that I have a higher chance of becoming successful."
I hum softly in response to this. I understand why the promotion would be important, especially considering how much money there is in my bank account, but I still find it interesting that it involves managing financial information. For the record, however, I wouldn't necessarily use the term'manager' in this situation. More accurately, a manager would probably just be one of the people in charge of doing accounting, filing and other paperwork related to that type of information. Although, I guess the person in question may have to do other things that involve numbers, too. I could always ask my dad. I bet he knows exactly who that person in question is.
My mom interrupts my thoughts by speaking up again. "Is your dad coming back soon?" She asks, sounding genuinely interested.
"No," I reply. "He said that he wanted to leave earlier than usual because he wanted to surprise you."
"Okay, so it's just us, then. How are things going with you? How was your weekend? You haven't gotten any news on the case, have you?" My mom asks.
"Not really. I haven't talked to anyone other than you recently. I haven'er heard anything about my father."
"Really? That's weird. You know, I've been wondering about that since the last time I talked to him. I don't think there's a reason for that, but I guess it must just be a case of not knowing what to talk about anymore. I think I remember asking him when I spoke to him that day, and he seemed pretty upset. Did he mention anything to you?"
"Uhm... I don't think so." I frown slightly as I answer.
"Hm. Alright. Well, we'll see each other soon. Don't forget to eat dinner! Remember what Dr. Grey told you about eating healthy foods!" My mom says before hanging up. I immediately set the phone down on the table and shake my head, letting out another sigh. I honestly don't even know why I decided to call my mother. There's definitely no use talking about this, so I might as well just go ahead and focus my attention on something else. Like studying for chemistry. Yeah, that's exactly what I should be doing. That should take my mind off of all of this mess. I pick up my pencil and begin drawing a couple of equations onto the paper next to me. It helps distract me from thinking about the strange situation I'm currently in. Even though I don'er know who my dad is and don't know anything about what happened to him, somehow, someway, I still managed to find out some useful information. I know that my father was a soldier in World War II. I also know that my father died in that war. This isn't something new; there aren't many people who don't know that part of his story. But still, I feel like there's something else about him that I still don't understand. Something about him that I still don't know. The only thing I do know for sure about him is that my father was my biological father, which means that he must have had another child at some point, although I have never met him before and I don't know anything about him except what I read online. I know that he fought in World War II, but I don't know what exactly he did to earn such a prestigious title of General (which means that he probably commanded troops), or where he came from.
Maybe there's still something more I can find out about him. But I still don't really know where to begin. After all, I have absolutely zero experience with this sort of thing. And I don't think that I want to waste my time on finding information that is obviously out of my reach. It's not like I'm actively seeking information, after all. Sure, I'm curious about this whole thing, but I'm only curious about it because of my curiosity regarding my father's past. Maybe once I finally meet the real deal, I'll start being more interested in him. After all, why would a soldier in World War II die? Why is my father suddenly alive after a couple of years of being dead? I still have lots of questions in mind. I just hope that I'll find out the answers sooner rather than later.
I quickly scribble down some notes into the margins of my notebook, trying to distract myself from my thoughts. Once I'm finished with those, I move onto drawing some random things on the pages that cover a large portion of my notebook, just like every other Saturday afternoon. At least, that's how it used to be. Nowadays, when I do draw, I end up drawing nothing but empty lines that look more like doodles than anything else. It's hard to concentrate when your thoughts are constantly drifting off towards different topics.
While my mind is distracted, I decide to give a short summary about my weekend. After all, I still have so many unanswered questions in my head, which will surely become clear in due time. I don't really want to get lost in my thoughts again, after all. Besides, I need to make sure that my grades don'er suffer too much if I want to maintain them. Plus, the stress and frustration of exams can cause a lot of problems, and the thought of failing them makes me extremely nervous. Not that I really care about my grades; my grades are the only thing that I actually give a damn about. I really need to stop thinking so much and actually try to pay attention to what I'm being taught for once. It's been a long time since I've done that. In fact, I doubt that I ever will. It's not as if I actually want to learn more about science or math or whatever it is that most of my classmates seem to think that's good enough for me. If I was paying close attention to my teachers, maybe I'd actually be taking better care of my studies. Maybe I should give up on being a doctor. No matter what, I'm still far too weak and sickly for someone who wants to study medicine. I'm pretty sure that I couldn't possibly do anything other than be a nurse, right? A surgeon, maybe, or even a doctor of sorts? Oh, well, I guess that's up to fate and whatever. Maybe I'll find the answer to my life's questions soon, but until then, I'm determined to enjoy the rest of the summer while I can.
Chapter 4
Friday morning arrives quite fast, and within minutes of arriving downstairs, I hear the sound of cars pulling up outside. As expected, my mum is already awake, and she greets me as I come downstairs.
"Good morning, darling." She smiles brightly at me as I enter the kitchen.
"Morning, Mum. Thanks for having breakfast ready for me. Have you eaten yet?"
"Yes, I have." She replies, holding the plate with two pieces of bacon balanced precariously on top of one of the plates.
"You didn't have to wait for me, you know." I say.
She shakes her head. "No, no, I know. It's fine, really. You don't have to thank me for anything, darling. Breakfast is my pleasure. I love making it for you. And anyway, you're my daughter, and I want to be able to provide you with everything that you need."
"Thanks, Mum. I'm happy to hear that." I smile, putting down my backpack and grabbing a couple of slices of bread and a jug of orange juice.
As I eat my breakfast, I listen to the sounds of my parents chatting quietly amongst themselves about some mundane subject.
"So, did you hear that Daniel has arrived today?"
"Who's Daniel?"
"Oh, don't you remember? He comes to visit sometimes."
"That's nice. I hope he likes your cooking."
I finish my breakfast in silence, listening to my parents talk to each other. They both sound happy and relaxed, which seems unusual given the topic they're talking about. Usually, when they talk about their son, their voices become very quiet. But this is the first time that they've ever expressed any form of happiness when talking about him. I wonder why.
I then turn around and face my mother. "Mum," I ask her, "do you remember when Daniel used to visit you when he came to town?"
"Yes, I remember, dear," she responds. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, it seems that whenever he comes over, Dad is usually not home, so when he does come over, it feels like it's just the two of you." I explain.
"Oh." My mother says, looking confused, "I hadn't realized that it was that bad. That's certainly surprising, considering how well they got along during the times they were here before."
"Yeah," I respond, nodding my head slowly. "And I can tell that Daniel doesn't like it."
"Do you think that he dislikes having to share your father?"
I shrug my shoulders. "Honestly, I wouldn't put it past him. Whenever I see him, he always acts so distant, and sometimes he seems angry. But, if he does resent me for that, I don't blame him."
My mother looks concerned. "But why would he hate you? Do you think that you did something wrong, darling?"
"Not necessarily," I say, "but he clearly hates me for some reason. I could just imagine his expression when he sees me at school."
My mother chuckles quietly, shaking her head. "That little man sure has a funny way of showing his emotions."
"Yeah... But it's okay, Mum. It happens a lot." I reassure my mum. "Anyway, what time is Daniel coming over today?"
"He said that he'd be coming around eight o'clock, but he hasn't specified what time."
"Ah." I mutter, feeling relieved.
"Is everything alright, dear?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I'm just glad that I won't have to worry about dealing with Daniel by myself." I grin. "What about Dad? Shouldn't he be here today?"
"Your father works late at night at night, so I'll be alone for a while. Besides, Daniel is coming around eight o'clock. By that time, I'll probably be asleep." My mother gives me a knowing glance, which I return. "I don't suppose that you've forgotten what time it is now, have you?"
"I guess not." I reply, laughing slightly.
"Well, go wash yourself up, darling. We haven't got all day. Your dad and I have an appointment to keep, remember?"
"Oh, right!" I reply.
A few minutes later, I am back in front of the mirror, putting my hair into an updo. I apply some foundation on my face and then add some lipstick to make sure that the shade looks good. Then, I grab my coat and scarf off the hanger and put them on, and then I rush downstairs to join my family. I greet both of my parents with hugs, and we head out of the house together.
As we drive through the busy streets of our small town, it doesn't take us long to arrive at the church. We sit in the pew together and wait for the priest to arrive. About ten minutes later, I notice my father staring intently at the door, probably waiting for the priest to walk inside. My mother tries to make conversation with my father to distract herself, but he doesn't want to talk at all, and instead, he keeps staring at the door. After another five minutes pass by, a boy walks into the church. Judging by his clothing, his shoes, and the way he carries himself, I immediately recognize him as the son of the local pastor. It's Daniel, and judging by the fact that my father starts to clench his fists and grind his teeth ever so slightly upon seeing him enter, I can assume that he's quite annoyed by his presence. The way he stares daggers at Daniel, especially when he stands next to us while sitting, tells me that this isn't the first time that this has happened to him. I mean, Daniel is probably the person that he most hates the most. It doesn't help matters that it's almost impossible to tell who exactly is the one whom he truly hates. All I know is that everyone else seems to either adore or fear Daniel, and it seems like there's never anyone who doesn't either love or dislike him. I guess that's what happens when you spend practically your entire existence surrounded by people who are equally as evil as yourself. Although my brother has made a great effort to hide it from everyone else (which I guess is a good thing), I can tell that he's definitely not happy with the fact that his father is dating Daniel. I know this because whenever he talks to Daniel, he always refers to him as'my father'. He also calls me 'my little sister', although I don't mind it too much because I feel more like an older sister to Daniel than a younger sister. In fact, Daniel's the only person besides my own parents who can get away with calling me his little sister.
It seems like no time passes by before the church doors swing open again, letting in two women who are dressed in black. Both of them walk towards our family section of the pews and sit down in chairs facing the center aisle. For several moments, nothing happens. My mother and father keep exchanging glances across the aisle, trying to figure out what exactly is going on with these people, but they continue to stay silent. Finally, after what seems like forever, the priest enters the church wearing a dark brown suit. He looks extremely tired, with gray bags under his eyes. He doesn't look particularly happy to see us, and I'm certain that he has had a long, boring day at work.
"Good morning, everybody," the priest says. He looks tired, but he manages to muster up a slight smile. "Let's start our service with a prayer, shall we? Everyone, please pray. Lord God, bless your children and bring prosperity and happiness to all that live on this earth. Give them the strength to persevere and fight, and help them grow into healthy adults. Amen." The priest pauses briefly after saying the last sentence, seemingly unsure if he should continue.
"Thank you, Father." My mother says, smiling softly.
"You're welcome, Mrs. Delaney. Now then, let's begin. First, I'd like to ask you two ladies to stand up and give us a warm welcome. Thank you." The priest smiles at us.
Both of the women stand up and make their way towards our pew.
"Hello," one of the women says cheerily. "My name is Anne and this is my wife, Sarah. We're delighted to be here today." She turns to look at her husband. "Aren't we, darling?" she asks.
"Of course, love." The man replies.
Anne continues speaking to my parents, while her husband sits down on the front row. Once she finishes, she takes a seat beside her husband and places her hand onto his arm. He wraps his arm around her waist in response and pulls her closer. She giggles lightly and rests her head against his shoulder.
The priest clears his throat, signalling the start of our service. "I understand that we are here today because we want to celebrate your anniversary. As such, the Lord has graciously granted us the opportunity to share this special moment with those we love." He glances at me briefly and offers me a quick smile. "So, please join us in closing our eyes and giving thanks."
We close our eyes, and I take a deep breath.
Father begins to speak. "Lord God, thank You for creating the universe and allowing all living beings to be born into this world, and for the life that They will lead. Please grant us health, peace, and happiness in this lifetime. And may We always be able to enjoy your blessings. Amen."
"Amen." My family and I echo.
"Okay, that was very sweet. Thank you both for opening your eyes. Now that you're all done with your prayers, perhaps you'd like to read the book that your dear departed loved ones gave you?"
I nod my head. "Absolutely, Father."
We begin to read the bible verses that were written on the index cards, and eventually, I get lost in thought as I recall the memories from our childhood.
Chapter 14
My name is Danielle, and I currently reside in the city of New York, NY. I've been residing in this apartment for about two years now, and things seem pretty normal for me, except for the fact that there are occasional flashes of memory from my dreams, but I've mostly been able to suppress them, especially now that I've moved into this apartment, as I'm getting used to living by myself. I'M still a virgin, and so far, the only men who have come anywhere near me have been Daniel. I don't really consider him to be my boyfriend, because I've known him for such a short period of time, but sometimes, when I'm sleeping, I dream about having sex with him. But as much as it pains me to admit it, I've come to realize that Daniel isn't my true lover; that part of me, and my heart, belongs to somebody else. Somebody that I've never even met, but who I think would fit perfectly into my life. I feel guilty, of course, since I can barely imagine having sex with him, yet every single time I try to do it, all I manage to do is fall asleep, unable to satisfy myself. Whenever I try to sleep, however, I end up having bad nightmares. Sometimes, I wake up screaming in terror, thinking that I'm actually dreaming, or that someone has attacked me in my sleep. And whenever these nightmares happen, I invariably think of Daniel, and then I cry for hours until I finally fall asleep again, exhausted. Of course, these nightmares only happen during the early hours of the morning, but somehow, I can never seem to get to sleep afterwards. It seems like there's something preventing me from being able to fully rest.
Since I haven't been able to sleep properly in the past few weeks, I have decided that it might be a good idea to try some different methods to try to overcome my issues. These tactics include meditation and prayer, but none of them seem to work quite the same as doing the above recommended activities. And so, this morning, I plan to try something new. I'm going to meditate in the afternoon, hoping to clear my mind enough to sleep well tonight, without any nightmares disturbing me during the night.
I pull my blanket up over my head and bury my face underneath. It isn't just a matter of clearing my mind and getting to sleep that will allow me to achieve this goal. My goal is to find out who that mysterious, attractive stranger is in my dreams. If I find out who he is, I'm going to try and convince him to give me a chance. Hopefully he'll say yes. Hopefully he'll give me a chance to show him that I'm worth loving, and that I deserve that kind of love from him. Because if he doesn't, I promise I'm going to leave the dreamland once and for all, and I'll never bother him again. This won't be my first dream like this, and I'm sure that I won't be my last. So I need to find out who he is. I want to see his face, and I want to know why I'm so drawn towards him, despite how odd it sounds. And I'm going to try and use this method to gain more information on him.
I sigh heavily. I have absolutely no clue whether or not this technique is going to work, and honestly, I'm not sure whether it's worth considering. Nevertheless, I decide to give it a shot. After all, I doubt that I'll ever meet him again. What would be the point of meeting him if I didn't even have any idea who he is? Why do I even care if I never get to see him again? No matter how hard I try to deny my feelings, I already know that I love him. There's no other reason to even try to pretend that I don't love him anymore. So why does it hurt so badly?
With that thought in mind, I slowly lift the blanket off of my head and sit up in bed. I then grab one of my pillows and hug it tightly to my chest. I stare outside my window through narrowed eyes. The sky is completely blue. I wonder if it's possible to see rainbows in real life. I wonder what kind of music is playing right now. Does anybody listen to music anymore? Do they watch television? Do they go to parties? Who knows. Everything is so different now. It feels like everything is happening in a completely different world than before.
I suddenly hear a knock on the door. "Daniel, is that you? Is it okay if I come in?" My father calls out.
"Yeah, Dad. Come in." I reply.
My father walks into my room, and closes the door behind him. He takes a deep breath, then lets out an anxious laugh.
"What is it, Dad? Something wrong?" I question.
"It's nothing... Well, not really. Well, yes, actually..." he starts hesitantly. "There is something wrong. I wanted to talk to you about something important."
"Is something wrong, Dad? You don't have to tell me anything. I know how nervous you must feel because of Mother's funeral. I'm sorry, Dad." I tell him. "I know that you want to talk about something important."
My father sighs and nods his head. "That's exactly it."
"Well, you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you." I tell him.
"It's about Mother." He pauses for a second, taking another deep breath. "She's gone, Daniel."
My father's words hang heavily between us for several moments. I feel a knot form in my stomach. My mouth drops open slightly and my eyebrows knit together. "She's gone?" I ask, quietly.
My father nods his head. "Yes, she's dead. Just like everyone else." He says.
"Oh, Dad... I'm so sorry..." I whisper.
My father nods his head in agreement. Then he takes a step forward and sits down next to me on my bed. His face is buried in his hands and his shoulders begin to shake slightly. My eyes begin to fill with tears. I turn away from him and begin to sob uncontrollably.
My father moves closer to me and puts a comforting arm around my back. "I'm so sorry, Daniel." He whispers.
I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. When I look up at him, I find that my tears have caused a tear streak to slide down his cheek. I reach out and touch his arm gently. "You shouldn't be crying over her. You shouldn't be upset over her passing."
He shakes his head and leans back against my headboard. "It's been three days, Daniel. Three whole days, and I still can't stop wondering if she made it through the night."
"You knew her better than anyone. She wouldn't have given up hope and left the hospital. She wouldn't give up. I'm sure that she was smiling right now, because she knew that we loved her so much."
"But did you?" My dad questions.
I shake my head. "No."
My father nods his head. "Me neither," he replies sadly.
"So, what now, Dad?" I ask.
My father wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "We wait."
Chapter 3
DANIEL
I stand in front of my bathroom mirror while brushing my teeth. I stare at myself and stare at myself until I begin to feel dizzy from looking into my own reflection. I take the toothbrush out of my mouth and spit it out into the sink, then rinse my mouth out. Once I'm finished brushing my teeth, I throw the toothbrush back onto the countertop and turn the faucet on to wash out my mouth. I put my lips beneath the flow of warm water and let the cool water run down my throat for a moment. As soon as the water begins to run cold, I immediately remove my mouth from under the stream and move toward the shower. I stand in front of the wall of glass, and watch as the raindrops hit the shower curtain. I reach up and press the buttons on the remote that turns on the shower. I quickly strip down to my underwear, and climb in behind the shower curtain. I wrap my arms around the small showerhead and close my eyes. The water hits my skin and runs down over my body. I smile to myself; I always enjoy showers like this. For a brief moment, I almost forget what happened yesterday, and I begin to feel happy again. I remember my mother and my little sister playing in the garden, my little brother watching cartoons, my father holding me, kissing me. I remember laughing with my parents, and playing together. I remember everything that is now lost forever. And so, I stand there under the shower, letting the hot water pour down over me and wishing desperately that this could all be true once more. But then, I feel a wave of despair crash over me. How can it all be true once more? What if that's the problem? Why am I the way that I am? What if that's the problem? Will I ever be normal again? Or will things stay the same forever, until the day when I die? Until then, I will continue to struggle. In my case, it will never really end. It will always be with me.
I open my eyes and start to turn the water off. As I turn around, I notice the red splotches on my hands. Tears begin to run down my cheeks once more. They stain my pale skin like dried blood. I lean forward and begin to cry into the sink. I cry until there are no more tears left to shed. I dry the tears from my face with the sleeves of my sweater and then slip back underneath the shower curtain. The sound of water pouring down onto the floor causes me to shiver violently as cold water hits my naked back. I pull my knees to my chest and rest my forehead on them. I stare blankly into space, as thoughts race through my mind like crazy. I hate feeling this sad, depressed, helpless. I hate this feeling.
I don't understand why I am feeling these negative emotions. All I ever felt for my mother was unconditional love and admiration. I used to look upon her with such adoration and affection. I've never known my biological father, but I've spent so long thinking about him and dreaming of him. I never gave up hope. I couldn't. Not after my mother. I kept believing that someday she'd return home. That she would wake up, and everything would be perfectly fine. I know that it's ridiculous to believe such a thing, especially when I know that it's impossible for her to ever return home, but still, I wish for nothing more than to see my mother one more time. I miss her. I miss our conversations, our laughter, and our smiles. I miss being able to spend every waking moment with my mother. Now she isn't here anymore. I'll never get to experience those things with her again. How can I live without her? Without Mother, who taught me that life is precious.
For the past three years, I haven't done anything to show my appreciation towards my mother. I don't think I have anything in the world worth showing my gratitude towards. It's always just been about making sure she was taken care of properly. After my mother died, I became obsessed with keeping everything in order. I was the perfect son to Father. I did my homework and took my part in school activities, and yet I had no idea what it meant to truly appreciate my mother. I only wished that I could see my mother one last time. I only wish that I could hear her voice one more time. I only wish that I could hold her in my arms one more time. I only wish that she was still alive so that I could apologize for hurting her, for causing her pain. I want to tell her how much I love her. I want to show her how much I regret my mistake. I want to promise her that I will never hurt her or leave her alone again. I need her help in taking care of Father. I cannot make decisions for him anymore. If I did, then he wouldn't listen to me and he wouldn't respect me. He doesn't seem to listen to me anymore.
What a fool I have been.
How am I going to manage to take care of the situation if I won't even acknowledge it? Maybe I should start taking some sort of responsibility. Maybe I should start helping out in some way. Yes, maybe I should start working more hours. Work hard, earn some money, do a lot of work and save money. I guess I need to work harder to pay the rent and pay the bills and buy food and drink and clothes for myself and Father. I need to do all of this for him. And then he could finally be happy again. So many people would go along with that idea. But I won't. No. I won't do that to him.
I'm scared. Very scared. I have absolutely no reason to be scared. I'm not afraid. Of course, I'm not afraid. This is silly. There's nothing scary about this. What am I afraid of? I don't even know. This is ridiculous. I'm stupid. Stupid Daniel! Why can't I ever think straight? Why can't I just focus? Oh God, Daniel, where are your priorities? You can't afford to lose your job. Don't do it. I'll be alright. I'll figure something out. This won't solve anything. Just concentrate on getting yourself cleaned up first. Then you can worry about what to do next. Everything else will work itself out eventually.
I pull myself up from the floor and splash my face with water. I towel myself dry, carefully avoiding the areas where the cuts on my back were still healing. I pull on my clean pair of jeans and an old gray sweatshirt. I walk into my bedroom and grab my wallet, keys, and phone. I lock the door to my apartment and walk outside. As I enter my car, I notice a black SUV parked next to mine. I stop in front of the passenger side of my vehicle to observe the driver's seat. My heart sinks. I recognize the person sitting there. It's my partner, Mark. He looks angry. His face is set in a deep scowl. He is wearing his usual dark suit and tie. He's holding his jacket over his shoulder with one hand, leaning on his right elbow while his right hand grips tightly onto the steering wheel.
Mark looks up at me and says, "Where've you been?"
I shrug my shoulders and say nothing. I don't have anything to say.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he yells at me angrily. "Why didn' you answer your damn phone?"
"I'm sorry," I reply quietly.
He glares at me with anger flashing in his eyes. "You're so fucking careless sometimes." He gets out of the car and slams the door shut. He walks over to me with heavy steps, grabs me by the arm, and pulls me inside his SUV. He sits down behind the wheel and starts the engine. A few minutes later, we drive out of the parking lot and onto the main road leading downtown Seattle. We both remain silent.
After a short ride, we arrive at our destination. The police department. Mark parks his car in the underground garage next to the entrance and turns it off. "Do whatever you gotta do," he says, "but keep your phone close. Call us immediately if you need anything."
I nod my head at him.
"Don't mess this up for us," he warns me before getting out of the car.
I don't respond. Instead, I sit there looking out the window of my car, watching as Mark climbs into his SUV and drives away. I don't think he notices, because he keeps his face turned to the windshield and doesn't speak another word.
I sit there staring out the window for several minutes until a familiar face appears in the distance. I recognize the woman standing beside the entrance. She looks quite different now though. Her long dark hair has been dyed blonde and cut to her chin length. She wears a plain white turtleneck and blue jeans. She has large round glasses that cover half of her face. Her face is slightly flushed and her eyes are narrowed, like she's trying to look stern, but she seems to be unable to hide the nervousness that's written all over her face. When she catches sight of me sitting at the entrance, she runs over to me frantically, and asks, "Are you okay? Did something happen to you?"
I shake my head. "No, I'm fine," I reply.
She sighs loudly and shakes her head in exasperation. "It must be so hard for you to see things like this," she mutters under her breath. "This isn't the first time someone's been attacked in the middle of the night, is it?"
I shake my head, and stare at the ground. "No," I reply. "There have been four other times already. One of them was even worse than this one. They were almost killed."
Her expression changes instantly. "Who? Who was it? What happened?" she gasps nervously.
"I don't know exactly who it was," I reply, "but I was with another girl, and they came at us suddenly. They had their guns drawn. They didn't give us a chance to run. When they reached us, they started firing their weapons in our direction. I tried to protect the girl, but I fell down, and my gun went off. That girl was shot dead. I'm very sorry."
The woman nods her head sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss. I can't imagine what it must feel like to watch someone you love die in front of you. I really am." She places her hand on top of mine which rests on the seat between us.
My eyes begin to fill with tears as I try to contain my emotions. "Thank you," I whisper.
I look over at her and smile weakly. She squeezes my hands reassuringly as we sit there in silence. Finally, we both stand up and head inside. We head into the station area and walk up to our desks. Mark is sitting at his desk in front of us with his back facing us. He has his head resting against the desk, but he opens his eyes when we approach his desk. He rubs his eyes groggily and looks up at me. He grunts and continues rubbing his eyes as he yawns.
"Have you been sleeping lately?" I ask.
"Not really. You?"
I shrug my shoulders.
"So what's this all about?" he asks. "A robbery?"
"Yes."
"That's too bad. I'm gonna go home now. I just finished doing a report for the case and everything is done. Good luck tonight. You deserve it after all the work you've put in on this case." He leans back and takes off his glasses.
"Thanks. Have a good evening," I reply. "Call me if you get any new information or if there are any updates."
He stands up and stretches as he begins walking away. Before he reaches the elevator that leads to the stairwell, he stops and turns around once again. "Daniel, be careful," he whispers in a serious tone. "If anyone hurts you or threatens you, I swear that I will rip their throat out."
I frown deeply. "Is there anything else?" I ask worriedly.
"Yeah. Stay home from work tomorrow."
"But-" I start protesting.
"I mean it," he snaps. "Just stay home. Do me a favor. Go home early tonight. Get some sleep. Tomorrow I expect to see you here bright and early."
I nod and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Oh yeah!" he says before turning around and leaving the station.
When he's gone, I let out a big sigh and lean against my chair. I reach for my backpack and take out a small envelope. I slip it into my coat pocket and turn on my computer. I type in my password, then open the file containing my reports. I begin reading through each of them once more to see if there's anything that needs to be checked or changed. I check them twice before closing the laptop and putting it away. The lights are dimmed and I slowly fall asleep.
Chapter 2
I wake up the next morning feeling tired. I feel drained. I feel sick to my stomach. I want to throw up. I hate how I look right now. My face feels so dirty and my hair looks like a rat's nest. I'm wearing only my pajama pants. I get up from my bed and make my way into the bathroom. I quickly wash my face and brush my teeth. I glance at the mirror briefly and see a complete stranger staring back at me. I hate this. I don't want to be like this. I feel horrible. How can I look like this? It's not fair. All this is happening because of me and I am the cause of all this misery. I should have stayed at home today. I should have just stayed at home, I thought. Now it all happened anyway because of me.
I leave the bathroom and continue to make my way downstairs to get dressed. After taking a quick shower, I grab a clean change of clothes from my closet and put them on. I grab my laptop from the couch, place it inside my backpack, and pull my coat on over my Tshirt. I pick up my purse and exit the house. I head to my car. Once I unlock the car, I climb inside, pull off my seat belt, and buckle myself up. Then, I start the engine and drive away. I have no idea where I'm going, but I figure that if it's possible to get some fresh air, I might as well try it. I park across the street from the beach and step outside my car. I close the car door carefully so as not to wake up my neighbors. I look toward the sea and take a deep breath. I let out a contented sigh and let my mind wander away from the case and focus solely on myself. I allow myself to enjoy this moment.
I decide to walk along the shoreline. I pass by many people that are strolling about aimlessly and enjoying the beautiful day. Some of them wave hello to me as they walk past me, but I ignore them and keep on walking, determined to forget everything that happened last night. I push the thoughts away and instead concentrate on my breathing. As I listen to the sound of the waves crashing onto the sand, I become lost in the rhythmic rhythm of my own heartbeat. I breathe in deeply and exhale out, allowing my body to relax.
After I finish walking along the coastline, I return to my car. I sit in the driver's seat for a few seconds to gather my bearings before starting the engine. Once I start driving, I make my way home. I stop in the driveway and take off my coat. I hang it neatly over the front porch railing. Then, I enter my house, shut the door behind me, and lock it. I remove the contents of my bag from my backpack and drop it onto the floor, where I leave it. I go straight into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. As I sip the cool liquid, the memories of the previous day come flooding back to me.
I remember standing over the lifeless body of another girl, watching it bleed out while I stood paralyzed and terrified. I remember hearing voices screaming my name. I remember seeing blood everywhere, pooling on the ground around me, covering my body, my shoes, and the girl's legs. I remember crying and begging whoever did this to please end my pain. I remember thinking to myself, I'm not afraid anymore. No more suffering. I won't feel anything anymore. I'll be numb. I'll be completely numb. Please end my pain.
Someone knocks on the door, snapping me out of my thoughts. I set my glass on the counter and head towards the door. As soon as I reach the door handle, I hear footsteps coming closer to the door. A familiar voice calls out for me.
"Daniel! Open up!" it shouts.
As soon as he hears me unlock the door, he pushes his way inside, slamming it closed behind him.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" he asks worriedly.
I bite my lip and swallow the lump forming in my throat. "No." I manage to say without breaking down.
His eyebrows furrow together. "What happened?" he asks.
I shake my head as I walk past him and sit down on the sofa. "Nothing happened. I'm okay. Just had a nightmare, that's all."
He sits down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "You're sure nothing else happened?"
"Yea," I respond softly, avoiding eye contact with him.
I see him biting his lower lip anxiously. I notice how he glances at my arms multiple times, but every time he does, he seems to immediately regret it. "Look at me Daniel," he whispers gently.
I lift my gaze from my lap and stare at his eyes.
"Tell me what's bothering you. What was the dream about?"
I shrug my shoulders slightly. I can still remember every single detail of the nightmare vividly. I recall everything vividly. From the fear, horror, and disgust I felt when I saw the girl's body lying on the floor, to the helplessness, panic, and sadness that were written all over my face. I also remember the intense pain that I felt when I heard the sirens coming towards my house. The pain of having someone die right in front of me, but the worst part is I didn't even know who she was. I never got her name.
"Please tell me."
I sigh and rest my forehead against his chest. "She was a friend of ours. Her name was Kelly."
"Kelly?" he asks.
"Yea. She was a year older than me. We met during our first month of high school," I explain, trying my best to control my emotion.
"Did something happen between you two?"
I look up at him. "I don't think so, but there was definitely something between us." I pause. "We went out almost every night. Sometimes we would meet in secret places, but mostly in our room."
"And why were you in your room so late?" He asks curiously.
"Because she told me to meet her there because she wanted to talk to me about something important."
"Important enough for her to go to your apartment at eleven o'clock at night to discuss it with you alone?"
I let out a long sigh. "Yeah…" I reply quietly.
"Why'd she do it?"
I shrug my shoulders again. "I don't know… She said she wanted to tell me something. But I couldn't understand why. When I asked what it was, she just looked away nervously. She wouldn't answer me, which made me really uncomfortable. So, I left. That was four hours ago."
He nods his head slowly. "Okay… Do you want to talk about it now?"
I shake my head. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to relive that horrifying nightmare again. Not today, not ever again. It's been nearly three weeks since my nightmare. I haven't been able to sleep very well either. Every time I close my eyes, I see what happened the other night, over and over and over again. In my dreams, I still see that girl's broken body laying lifeless on the floor, covered in blood. She's bleeding so much, so much that I feel like I'm drowning in blood. The images and feelings flood through my mind again and again, making me feel physically ill. I need to distract myself somehow or else I'm going to end up having a mental breakdown like the one I had yesterday.
"How about some ice cream?" I ask, wanting to change the subject.
"Ice cream sounds great," he replies, smiling.
I open my laptop and type in the address for a nearby ice cream parlor. I turn the computer on and wait for it to boot up. Once it does, I click on the menu and choose vanilla and chocolate chip, then enter the location. As I'm waiting for their selection to load, I turn my attention back to Daniel.
"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I ask, hoping to distract myself from my traumatic memory.
"About last night?" he asks.
"No. I mean what you wanted to say to me yesterday."
"Oh. Well I wanted to apologize for not showing up to your party. You know, to help you with whatever it was you needed me to do."
"You don't have to apologize," I mumble. "I wasn't expecting you to show up. You should've just called me like I asked you to. I would've understood."
"I know, but-"
"Besides, I guess things weren't so bad after all. There were only five of them."
"But you still could've died."
"If I hadn't gone looking for you, it would've been ten times worse," I state firmly.
His eyes soften. He reaches out to hold my hand. "That doesn't matter to me, Daniel. If anything, I should apologize to you."
A small smile appears on my lips. "It's fine. You don't have to apologize for that."
I lean in and give him a quick kiss. "Thank you."
He grins and kisses me back. He leans in even more and presses his lips against mine until I pull away.
"Don't worry about it. Let's just order our ice cream."
Chapter 3
We sit down at a table near the window. I watch as kids run around and play in the yard, trying to catch balls and pretend they're cars. Their laughter fills the air as they chase each other around. Their screams make the children laugh even harder. After a little while, a young couple comes in, holding hands. They exchange greetings and sit at the table next to ours. I quickly glance at them and realize the man is staring at my boyfriend.
My boyfriend turns around and catches my eye. "What?"
I take in a deep breath before I speak. "Nothing." I shake my head and look away. I can feel his stare burning holes into the side of my head. I can't bear to look at him anymore. I quickly avert my attention towards the screen of my laptop, determined to ignore him. I begin to scroll through my emails until I see a notification pop up on top of the screen. My heart rate accelerates and my stomach begins to churn. I quickly check the message.
The message reads: I love you. Come home soon.
My heart stops for a moment as I stare at the text on the screen.
"Hey," says Daniel suddenly. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Huh?" I reply absentmindedly.
"Have you had any nightmares recently?"
I nod. "Yeah… A few."
"Do you want to talk about them?" he asks hesitantly. "Maybe I can help you."
I turn my head and look at him. "Thanks, but I think I'll be fine."
After a short while, the waitress arrives with our ice cream cones. She places them on the table in front of us. "Enjoy," she says cheerfully.
I raise my head up and catch the girl smiling at me. "Thanks," I reply softly.
The woman takes our orders and walks away.
"Who are those people?" I hear him ask.
I tilt my head sideways and glance at him. He's gazing intently outside, watching the girls playing happily in the yard. "They probably work here," I reply, nodding my head towards the window behind him. "Their names are Lisa, Emily and Amy. They're friends of mine," I add quickly as I realise that he might get suspicious.
He turns his head to look at me again. "Really?"
I nod. "Uh huh. Don't ask me anything about them though," I say in a whisper. "This is something that I don't want you to talk about with anyone, including your parents. Okay?"
Daniel frowns and looks away. He stares at the window for a second before turning his attention back to me. "Okay..." he says finally.
I smile reassuringly at him. "Thanks."
He smiles back at me.
After another 20 minutes, Daniel and I decide to call it quits for the day. We grab our things and start heading back inside. Suddenly, my phone starts ringing. I dig in my purse and quickly reach out to grab the device.
"Hello?" I answer, glancing at Daniel who's already halfway across the restaurant.
"Hi, Kelly! Where are you guys right now?"
"We're in the ice cream parlor," I respond. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Well, I've been working for a couple of hours now and I can't find the guy that came in with you. I thought he might've taken you somewhere else, but it doesn't seem like it, so I'm trying to find him."
I furrow my eyebrows. "Where did he take us?"
"I don't know... Maybe he took you somewhere else so you don't remember."
"Okay, thanks. Tell me when you actually find him, okay?"
"Will do!"
We hang up the phone and I slide the screen back into place. I put the phone into my pocket and continue walking. Daniel walks ahead of me and then turns around. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the door.
"Let's go," he says, gesturing for me to follow him inside.
When I walk past him, he grabs my wrist gently and guides me towards the bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and motions for me to come over. I walk over and stand next to him.
"Is everything okay?" I ask as I lie down on the bed.
He shakes his head. "There'a someone else here."
I frown. "What do you mean there'a someone else here?"
"I mean someone here in this room. There's a man lying on the floor right now."
"Didn't you lock the door?"
"Yes," he replies, nodding his head. "But I forgot to tell you to lock the door after you went inside. So it's safe to assume that someone else got in and found us both sleeping together on the bed."
I furrow my eyebrows. "Who'd possibly want to do something like that?"
"Well, we have no idea."
"So how many are there?" I ask.
"Just two," he answers. "And one of them might be a murderer."
I furrow my eyebrows slightly. "What makes you say that?"
"Because the man I saw earlier was wearing gloves."
"What?! And they let him inside?"
"Apparently. But that's not the weird part."
"What is?" I ask.
"He's completely naked."
"WHAT?!"
I quickly sit up straight and start looking around frantically for my clothes. My eyes fall onto the black dress I wore to the club. I scramble over to the dresser and snatch it off the shelf. Pulling the straps over my shoulders, I jump out of the dress and wrap it around my body. I quickly zip it up and rush out of the room. When I get back into the bedroom, Daniel's standing there with a curious expression on his face.
"How long has he been there?" I ask him.
"Since around nine o'clock last night, and since the time when we first met," he answers, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
I sigh loudly. This is really starting to bother me. I don't know who could be doing this, or why. I just hope that whoever it is gets arrested.
"What's wrong?" Daniel asks.
"Well... There's a guy in the house right now," I explain, my tone clearly conveying my frustration.
"What? Why do you need to find him?" he asks, confused.
"It's a friend of mine. I think he came here with the purpose of stealing something from me."
"Steal what?"
"Something important," I say as I cross my arms.
"Does he know where the key is?"
"Yes, and I'm going to go confront him, once and for all."
"Kelly, you can't go alone. I'll go with you."
"Daniel, this isn'a some sort of game for you. He has a gun, and he's armed. There's no way that I'm going to leave you here by yourself."
"I can handle myself. Besides, if it's a trap, I'm sure I can take him down."
I roll my eyes. "You're an idiot if you believe that." I glance at my watch and frown. "Look, I'm going to go change into some clothes and go to the police station. Stay here and wait for me."
He nods his head. "Alright, but if you're not back in twenty minutes, I'm coming looking for you."
I chuckle lightly. "Alright."
As I walk out the door, I turn around and notice him still sitting on the bed. He looks at me as I close the door and I give him a smile before disappearing out of sight.
Once I'm changed, I slip a pair of sneakers on before I walk out of the room and head downstairs. The lobby is empty except for two men sitting on couches and chatting quietly. As soon as I walk out of the main entrance, I spot a blue car parked outside. It looks brand new and well maintained. I hurry over to the driver's door and unlock it. The passenger seat is completely empty. I slowly open the door. Once I'm seated, I look at the dashboard of the car in front of me and see a picture. I touch the image carefully with my fingers and trace the outline of it. It's a photograph of Daniel and me on the beach. It must've been taken on the afternoon I left.
I smile sadly as I pick up the picture and look at it again. Then I realize something and quickly put the photo back inside the glove box.
I close the lid and put the key inside. I open the door and step out. As I'm closing the door, I suddenly stop and turn my head in the direction of the staircase leading upstairs. Daniel steps out of his room and joins me.
"Come on," he says smiling.
I hold his hand tightly and lead him through the hallway to the elevator. I push the button to call it. When the doors open, we step inside and press the button to go down. As soon as the doors open, we enter the corridor of the parking lot, where a few cars are still waiting for their passengers. I walk slowly, my eyes focused on the road in front of me.
"Do you think he would hurt me?" I ask quietly.
"Probably not," Daniel replies. "I doubt he knows that it was you that followed me here. If he does, he wouldn'a taken you."
"Maybe," I say, glancing at him briefly.
The elevator dings, signaling its arrival at the bottom floor. I pull the door open and walk out. I glance down the hallway and spot the car sitting in front of the apartment building. I walk over and stand directly in front of the car.
"Which apartment is yours again?" I ask Daniel as I lean against the side of the car.
He leans forward until his forehead is resting against mine and closes his eyes for a brief moment. A small grin appears on his face when he opens his eyes again.
"Twenty-nine," he responds, pulling away from me. "It should be on the fourth floor."
I raise my eyebrows. "Wow. That's kind of far from here."
He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess we'll just have to make the most of it."
I smile and nod. "Yeah. Yeah, we will."
He reaches into his pocket, takes out his phone, and checks the time. He sighs quietly and glances at me.
"My ride should be here any minute." He puts his phone back into his pocket and then looks back at me. "Are you ready?"
I hesitate for a moment, glancing back towards the apartment building. But eventually, I decide to give it a shot. It's my only chance to get answers.
"Yeah." I give him a reassuring smile.
He smiles back at me before wrapping his arm around my waist. We walk away from the apartment building, holding hands, and making our way to a nearby diner.
Chapter 19
[Daniel's POV]
I park the car in front of a small, yet very expensive looking restaurant. Kelly stares outside the window for a second before turning her attention towards me. I pull open the door and she follows me out of the car.
We're currently standing near the entrance of the restaurant and I try to keep my mind focused on the fact that we might potentially be able to apprehend the culprit. However, my thoughts drift elsewhere, and it's almost like I forget that we're even in a public place.
After parking the car and getting out, I walk over to Kelly and take her hand as we make our way into the building. Once we've reached the reception, we walk up to the receptionist and she greets us with a smile. She scans her gaze across Kelly's face before giving us a polite smile.
"Good evening," she says. "May I help you?"
"Hi, yes," Kelly says. "We're looking for a woman named Maria Sanchez."
She scans her eyes across the page before nodding her head. "And you are…?"
"Kelly Jones."
I smile politely at the receptionist and lean over to whisper in her ear. "What do you want us to do?" I ask her.
She gives me a stern stare. "Mr. Jones, it is extremely rude to ask people to tell you something while they're trying to concentrate on work."
I roll my eyes and turn back toward the receptionist. "Sorry about that. What do you need?"
She shakes her head and turns back to the computer screen. "Maria Sanchez," she reads out loud. "Here you go."
I reach over and grab the piece of paper and begin reading it over.
"Where is she?"
"Right this way, please."
"Thank you."
"Of course."
Once we're done speaking to her, I turn around to walk over to Kelly. As we approach the entrance of another room, I begin to notice that this one seems oddly familiar. It's dark inside, but there's a faint light shining from underneath the door in front of us. It seems like it could be someone's office. I knock on the door gently three times before calling out, "Ms. Sanchez?"
There's nothing for several seconds before the door swings open and a short woman stands in front of us. Her hair is tied up in a ponytail, revealing a small patch of forehead and freckles scattered across it.
"Yes?" she asks.
"Hello, Ms. Sanchez. My name is Daniel Miller. This is Kelly Jones. We're-"
"Yes, Mr. Miller. Come in," the woman interrupts, interrupting me.
"Thanks," I say as I pass her and walk into the office.
As soon as I sit down in one of the two chairs in front of her desk, Kelly sits down in the other chair beside mine.
"Now, what is it that you want to discuss with me?" Ms. Sanchez asks.
"Well, it's actually quite simple. You sent my wife a letter last month telling her that your son, Spencer, had come here. Do you remember doing that?"
Ms. Sanchez shakes her head. "No. I didn't send anyone any letters. Is that what you wanted to talk about?"
"Yes," I say, nodding my head slightly. "I need to know if he's staying with you. Where is he?"
"Oh!" Ms. Sanchez exclaims, as if remembering something. "He moved out a couple of days ago. I haven't seen him since, though."
"Where did he move to?"
"I'm sorry," Ms. Sanchez apologizes. "But I can't tell you that."
I sigh deeply and rub my temple with my thumb and index finger. I turn my head back to look at Kelly and shake my head.
"Can't you just tell me so I can find him? I promise I won't tell anyone about it."
"Look, Mr. Miller," she begins. "This isn't my problem. If you want to find him, I suggest you start by going home and calling the police. They have a better chance than me doing that."
I narrow my eyes at her.
"You told me not long after he came here how you felt about him being here. And how you hoped he'd leave and never come back."
Ms. Sanchez rolls her eyes and lets out a short laugh.
"That was a very long time ago. Now, I'm just worried that you might not believe me now. Please excuse me."
I sigh and nod my head.
"Okay." I stand up and start walking towards the door.
"Wait, wait!" She says, getting out of her seat and walking around her desk. "How much do I owe you for the service?"
I turn around and look at her.
"Five hundred dollars."
She nods her head in acknowledgement and pulls a five dollar bill out of her wallet. She gives me the money and starts counting. Then she hands me a checkbook and tells me to write my address on it. I put the money in my pocket and turn around to leave, but suddenly I feel her hand on my shoulder and stop in my tracks.
"Is it true, what they say about your wife being pregnant?" she asks cautiously.
"Yes. How did you know?"
She raises an eyebrow and smiles. "You must really care for each other if you thought I would have written you a check for that amount."
"So, what happened?"
"She left him," she whispers and walks backwards towards the door.
I follow her and watch as she leaves the room. As soon as she enters the stairwell, I turn around and walk out of the building. There's no reason to stay any longer anyway; the investigation has come to an end. The police have found the boy's father and arrested him. There is no more reason to keep looking for him, especially knowing what has happened.
When I return home, I lock myself in the bathroom for thirty minutes. I splash cold water on my face, dry my body with the towel hanging from the rack, throw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, and then walk downstairs. As I enter the living room, I realize I'm hungry.
A few moments later, a bowl of pasta is placed in front of me, along with some bread. I take a fork and cut off a little piece of bread before taking a bite. It tastes good. Almost too good.
"You seem awfully quiet tonight," Mrs. Jacobs comments.
I clear my throat and set the empty dish onto the table before placing my napkin on my lap.
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just thinking."
"About what?"
I pause for a moment, debating whether or not I should mention anything. Finally, I speak. "About the case. We found the boy's father."
Mrs. Jacobs raises her eyebrows and tilts her head slightly to the side.
"Really?"
I nod my head slowly and take another bite of the food.
"How old is he?" she asks.
"He turned fifteen last year."
Her eyebrows furrow together. "That sounds young," she says.
I nod my head. "Yeah, he is. He was the last victim. Apparently the police think there's more than one person involved. Someone killed all four of them. One girl, one guy, and one kid."
"Do you have any idea who it could be?"
"Not yet," I respond.
I continue eating my meal in silence as we both finish eating our dinner. After cleaning the dishes, Mrs. Jacobs grabs one of the spare glasses from the cupboard and fills it with water for me, which I accept gratefully. I pour some water into my glass and drink it in one gulp, immediately feeling its warmth run through my body.
"Hey mommy?"
I look up from my glass and see Jack leaning against the doorway of the kitchen.
"Yes, honey?" Mrs. Jacobs responds.
"Can daddy come to dinner with us tomorrow night?"
"Sure, why not?"
Jack's expression brightens and he runs up to hug his mother before leaving the room. Mrs. Jacobs chuckles softly before turning her attention to me.
"So, have you ever considered joining the police force?"
"It crossed my mind a few years ago, but it seemed pointless after everything that happened to me when I tried to join them," I explain. "Why? Have you considered doing it?"
She shakes her head. "I wouldn't want to involve myself in such a dangerous thing," she explains. "Besides, I don't really like the idea of becoming a detective."
"Well, I guess that's something we'll have to agree on."
"I'm glad you think so. Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be working right now?" she questions.
I glance down at my watch, realizing that it's almost time for me to get ready for work. I quickly gather my things and place them neatly into my briefcase before heading towards the door. Before I can leave the house however, I hear Mrs. Jacobs call my name.
Turning around, I meet her gaze.
"Daniel? Did you find anything else at the school today?" she asks.
I let out a small smile. "Yeah, actually. I found something I think you will like."
***
We make our way back into the elevator and press the button for the fifth floor. When the doors open, I step outside and make my way down the hallway towards the room where I worked yesterday.
I stop in front of the door and turn the knob, letting myself inside. The first thing I spot when I walk in is my laptop sitting on the corner of my desk. I cross over to it and shut the lid, setting it on the ground beside me before picking it up again. I pull out my notebook and begin to scribble the date and location that I read off the slip from the principal earlier.
"Anything exciting happen today?" Ryan asks as he walks out of the bedroom wearing only shorts and a T-shirt.
"Nothing much," I say. "Just the usual. No sign of the boy."
Ryan sits himself down next to me on my bed and starts flipping through my notes.
"What are you looking for?" I ask.
"For some evidence that might help us solve this case," he replies.
"Evidence?"
"Yeah," Ryan says as he looks up. "Like we've been saying, we can't figure out who did this unless we know who the killer is."
I nod my head. "True, but there's nothing to help us with that right now."
"Exactly. But if we find out who the murderer is, then we can finally get rid of this bastard and put him behind bars."
"Good luck finding the real culprit," I comment sarcastically.
Ryan scoffs loudly. "Don't worry. That's exactly what we're going to do. We've got this."
He picks up the notebook, flips through a few pages, and puts it down in front of me.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking out the places where I saw Spencer," he answers.
"You mean the places that were taken?" I correct.
"Right, yeah, those," he says with a chuckle.
Ryan reaches for the notebook, but I grab it away from him.
"I said I'm going to check these places out too, remember?"
"Then let me go with you."
"No. You already have a job to go to and a housewife to take care of. And you also have someone waiting for you at home. You shouldn't risk it because you need someone with you. Besides, we have the whole day tomorrow to do whatever we want. So just sit and relax."
"Fine. If that's what you wish," he mutters before grabbing his clothes from the floor and stepping into the shower.
A few hours later, Ryan knocks on the door to my apartment.
"Come in," I yell.
The door opens and I look up at him. He walks over and leans down to peck me on my lips before handing me a plate full of pasta with meatballs.
"Thanks," I mumble while grabbing my fork and stabbing the pasta on my plate.
"Are you sure you haven't eaten anything since you left the hospital?" Ryan asks.
I shake my head. "No, I haven't. My stomach is still upset from what happened yesterday. I didn't eat anything at work either."
"Well, try it. Just one mouthful won't hurt anyone."
I shrug and take a bite of the food before chewing slowly. After swallowing, I lean forward so I can push the rest of the food into my mouth.
"That's better," Ryan says with a grin.
As I chew, I reach out for a bottle of wine sitting on my desk. I take a sip from it as I pick up the piece of paper lying in front of me. It's a map of the area surrounding the school that had been printed out the previous week and placed onto the top of the table.
"Where's that?" Ryan asks.
"In the middle of the table," I reply.
He glances at it before turning his attention back to me.
"What are we gonna do?" he asks.
"We're gonna start by asking everyone we know if they knew anything about this boy, who we believe to be the serial killer we are trying to catch. Then, once we find out what they did to him, we can use his information to track him down."
"Sounds good to me."
After finishing lunch, we decide to take a quick break before continuing our search.
"Let's go back upstairs," Ryan suggests.
I nod my head. "Okay. Let's hope we'll find something useful."
***
Half an hour has passed and neither of us has managed to find anything helpful yet. Ryan and I have been searching the entire school and even the nearby neighborhood. There hasn't been any trace of whoever did this to that poor child, and it's starting to piss me off. I am getting tired of this game; this has gone on long enough, and now I'm getting impatient.
Ryan begins walking past the office where they keep the school records. As we continue down the hallway, a woman walks in, carrying a file folder. She stops in her tracks when she sees Ryan standing in front of her. Her face instantly goes pale.
"Oh my God!" she yells. "What are you two doing here?"
"Uh, I was just coming to check out the school records," Ryan says sheepishly.
"And you didn't find anything?" she asks.
Ryan shakes his head. "No. Not yet. Can you tell us what we'd look for?"
She nods and sighs before opening her mouth to answer Ryan's question, but before she can do so, she notices the file that I'm holding in my hand.
"Oh, um... What are you doing?" she asks.
"Looking for some sort of clue as to who killed the boy," I reply.
"I see."
She hesitates for a moment before speaking again.
"You know that we have strict rules regarding students' personal property, don't you?"
"I understand that, ma'am. Please, I just want to get to the bottom of this. We don't know how long it will take us before we find the truth," Ryan pleads.
She doesn't respond for a few seconds and instead looks down at her feet. After a couple of minutes, she finally lets out a deep breath and lifts her head up again.
"All right, I can give you access to the records," she whispers. "I will follow you up to the fourth floor though, and if I find out that you're taking anything that isn't yours, or even thinking about touching anything without permission, I'm calling security and have you both escorted out."
Ryan smiles. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll be on our best behavior."
The woman gives another deep sigh before walking away.
Ryan grabs my arm and pulls me towards the elevators. Once we enter the lift, he presses the fourth floor button, and we wait for a couple of seconds until the doors open to reveal that same girl we met yesterday. I look over her shoulder to see that there is no sign of Samantha anywhere.
"Hey, you! Stop!"
The girl jumps a little bit when she hears a voice yelling. She turns around slowly with wide eyes and an obviously terrified expression plastered across her face. She stands frozen in place for a few seconds before moving her eyes to the floor.
"Is Samantha here? Where is she?" I ask.
"I'm not allowed to tell you," she replies quietly. "It's for your own safety."
"But where is she?!"
Suddenly, I feel a sharp sting on the side of my neck. I immediately drop to the ground and fall unconscious.
***
When I wake up, I am lying down on the floor in a dark room. Slowly, I raise my arms to rub my temples, trying to wake up completely. When my hands come into contact with my face, however, my fingers quickly find themselves covered in blood. Looking around me, I realize that I am in some kind of warehouse-like structure. A couple of people are sitting in a circle on the floor, talking to each other. They all seem pretty serious. One of them is pointing over to me as she talks to someone else.
Before I know it, I feel a pair of strong arms suddenly pulling me off the ground. I immediately struggle against them, kicking my legs and hitting my attacker in the chest with my fists. However, before I can fully fight him off, I'm pushed against the wall. The guy starts banging my head hard against the brick as I try to scream for help. I manage to squeeze my eyes shut before blacking out once more.
The next time I regain consciousness, I'm laying on the cold floor, unable to move, and my arms and legs are restrained. I'm still wearing the uniform from the day before. The last thing I remember is being dragged into a car and then being forced to drive. I guess I must have lost consciousness after that. I don't remember anything after that.
A few moments later, I hear a door open and footsteps heading toward me. My eyes shoot open and I look around frantically. No matter where I turn, I can't see anything.
Just when I start panicking, the person approaches me.
"Don't worry, Mr. McKinney. Everything is okay. I promise."
The man's words make me stop struggling, and I relax, trying to remain calm. I notice that my wrists are tied together, but that only serves to remind me that I have to stay calm for the time being. After all, this man may be a friend of Ryan's, so there's every chance that he would hurt me if he thinks I'm trying to escape.
When the man reaches my side, he kneels down and places a finger underneath my chin, forcing me to look him straight in the eye.
"You've got a concussion," he explains. "Luckily, they've already taken care of that. Now, all you need to do is calm down. Everything is going to be okay. You don't have to worry about anything anymore."
His words make me feel a little bit calmer, but I don't know if that makes it better or worse. Still, I do trust him and I'm thankful for that. So, despite my fear, I slowly lower myself onto the cool concrete and close my eyes. A few seconds pass before the sound of running water fills my ears.
I open one of my eyes to see that there is water running through my wrists and dripping down onto the floor. The water comes from a hose that runs through the floor. After a couple of minutes, the stream of water disappears. Suddenly, my hands are free and I'm able to pull myself up. As soon as I'm on my feet, the man steps away from me and moves to stand near one of the walls.
"Can I have a glass of water?" I ask nervously.
"Sure," he replies before grabbing a cup from the counter behind him.
Once he places the cup in my hand, I take a sip of the water. It's ice cold. I hold it between my lips for a few moments while watching the man closely. He sits down on a stool and puts his feet up on the workbench behind him. His feet rest against an empty bucket that sits on the bench beside him.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"My name is Joe," he replies. "Joe Smith."
"You said you were working here?"
"Yeah. That's why I have to stay here."
"Why?"
"Well, I don't want anyone else to find out what happened to me."
"What happened?" I ask.
"Someone saw me in the woods. Someone who wanted revenge."
I swallow hard. I wasn't aware that anyone had seen him, especially someone who might have worked at a school like this.
"How long have you been here?" I ask.
"Not too long, really. Just since yesterday afternoon."
"That's great," I say, "you should probably call your parents and let them know what happened."
"I tried that already. All the calls went straight to voicemail."
I nod my head in understanding. My mind flashes back to what Ryan told me.
"Have you heard from your brother recently?" I ask.
"What? Who? Oh my God..."
"Calm down, Joe. Your brother didn't kill anyone."
"Are you sure? Maybe he found something and decided to leave a message for us, telling us how he did it."
"Yeah, right. He would never kill anyone."
"So you don't think I did it?"
I sigh deeply before answering.
"I honestly don't know what to believe right now. It could have been some random person in town."
He sighs heavily and drops his feet to the floor. He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees. After a few seconds of silence, Joe finally speaks again.
"Look, I'm sorry for what happened," he says sincerely. "Really."
I stare at him blankly for a second, trying to figure out what to say to him, when suddenly he stands up from his seat.
"I'm gonna go outside for some fresh air. Be right back."
Without another word, he exits the room and shuts the door behind him. As he walks past me, I catch a glimpse of his red eyes for a second before he closes the door behind him.
I lay back on the floor and sigh. What am I supposed to do now?
Chapter 11
Samantha's POV
As I walk downstairs, I can barely contain myself when I spot the blonde sitting at a table alone, eating a bowl of cereal. She glances up and gives me a big smile.
"Hi, Samantha! How are you feeling?"
"Okay," I reply, sitting down at the table. "Where's Ryan?"
"He's still asleep upstairs. I figured I'd try to talk to you first before waking him up."
She takes a bite of her cereal and continues speaking.
"I just got a text from him. Apparently, he and Geoff went to the city to pick up supplies earlier today. They shouldn't be back until tomorrow morning."
"Good," I reply. "So, have you spoken to anyone yet?"
"Not yet," she answers, shaking her head. "Maybe I should try contacting the police. I mean, I did just get kidnapped, after all."
"No," I shake my head. "I think that would be a good idea. If Ryan doesn't show up by tonight, he'll definitely send me some messages to tell me where he is, right?"
Samantha nods. "Probably. But how much do you think he'll be able to explain?"
I pause for a moment before responding. "Probably nothing. The cops aren't exactly known for their patience. Besides, I doubt that he will even have the courage to talk to them. This whole situation is just too weird."
"Yeah..." she says quietly. "Do you mind if I go to work tomorrow?"
"Of course not," I reply, waving my hand. "It's not like I really need you here anyway. Go and help Ryan with whatever needs to be done. It won't do any harm to take a break."
After finishing our breakfast, Samantha packs up the few things that we need for the week and leaves the kitchen. For the next several hours, I sit down at the table and think about all that has happened in the past two days. At the same time, though, my thoughts always return to Ryan.
Ryan told me that he would call me, but we haven't talked since that night at the restaurant. I was so nervous when I walked into the room that I couldn't even bring myself to look at him directly. Then, when he started to tell me everything that had happened that night, I couldn't listen to a single word he said. It was the same for Jack; when Ryan told them all of the things that had happened, she stopped listening and just sat silently, looking down. Ryan tried to include her in his explanation, but I kept quiet throughout the whole meeting. Once Ryan finished talking, I took that as my cue to leave the room. I didn't wait for anyone to stop me either; I simply ran out of the room without even saying goodbye. I thought it would be best if I left the hospital before they found out what had happened. And yet, they still managed to find out that Ryan's disappearance is linked to me somehow. I wonder if that means that they're also planning to investigate my family, as well.
For the past two days, I've been spending most of my time at home, waiting for Ryan to contact me. The only thing I've gotten out of that situation is that Ryan has disappeared. When I called the number I have memorized, however, the phone line was immediately answered by a female voice informing me that Ryan isn't available. It wasn't Ryan's phone number, but I still asked the woman if she knew if Ryan was around. When she informed me that Ryan hadn't returned home last night after leaving the restaurant, I decided to leave it at that. From then onward, I've been living off of coffee. There's no way I could eat anything. My body is completely exhausted.
All of a sudden, the door to the room opens. I quickly raise my gaze and notice that it's Mrs. Pendergast.
"Hello, Samantha," she greets me.
"Hi."
Mrs. Pendergast pulls over a chair and sits down across from me.
"I hope you slept well," she says. "If you need anything at all, please feel free to come to me."
"Thank you."
There's a short silence as Mrs. Pendergast looks me up and down. When she's finally satisfied with what she sees, she smiles politely and stands up from her chair. Without saying anything else, she leaves the room, closing the door behind her gently. I remain sitting on the floor, staring at the door until it eventually closes and I hear footsteps fade away. I then place my arms on top of my legs, resting my chin upon my knees as I continue thinking. Thoughts of the events that have taken place in the past few weeks race through my head. Although I still find it unbelievable, I'm actually starting to believe that something is going to happen. Things have changed drastically ever since I met Ryan, and the fact that I've lost my memory makes things seem like they'll get worse. The last thing I remember being was standing behind the counter. I was just talking to Ryan when... Well, everything seemed to end then. Now that I think about it more, something doesn't make sense anymore. I was attacked by something, but when? Was it a wolf? Or maybe a bear? Why would Ryan want me dead? Is that why he left me the note? Did he decide that he didn't like me anymore? That he was sick of me? Does he hate me? What do I do now? What should I do next?
"What are you doing, sitting there?" asks a deep male voice.
When I turn my head to see who it is, I can't even hide the surprise that's written all over my face. Standing in front of me is none other than Ryan. I stand up from my position on the ground and hold out my hand to greet him.
"Oh hi Ryan," I say. "You startled me."
"Sorry about that," he replies as he shakes my hand. "Is everything alright?"
I sigh and run both of my hands through my hair.
"Things could be better," I reply.
He takes a step closer to me and raises an eyebrow.
"Is this about yesterday?"
I don't answer, I just shake my head. I'm not ready to reveal the truth just yet. I just hope that one day I'll be able to trust him enough to tell him everything.
Ryan stares into my eyes, searching for something inside of them. He grabs my arm firmly and starts pulling me towards the door.
"Come on