Slave For Him |M.B|

Chapter 3: Run, Better Run, Better Run 'Cause I'm Coming after You.

Present

"So you left Baton Rouge because you made some teenage boy itchy?" Detective Newton asked with an amused smile. I couldn't help but smirk at how simple but impactful those events were back then. The ripple effects were enormous though, so many people got hurt because I made a teenage boy itchy. So many people got hurt because of me. So many people were killed because of me. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I didn't reject Charlie, or if I hadn't run away from home like I did. Who knows, Matt might still be alive. A lot of people might still be alive.

"That's one way to put it, yes." I replied, looking sorrowfully down into my cup of tea sitting on the envelope on my lap. I was overwhelmed by a tidal wave of guilt and shame. I lifted my head up to meet the Detective's gaze.

"But being a part of a teenage boy's wet dream wasn't why I left Baton Rouge. I left because admiration became stalking." I haven't told anybody about Charlie stalking me since I told Matt back in 1945 when I knew Charlie had followed me to Los Angeles and was continuing to stalk me. He had shown up at the house one day when Matt was home. Matt, not knowing who that man was, invited him into the house. I damn near had a heart attack when I saw him.

"Charlie Terrell became a man obsessed." I added lowly. Detective Newton's eyebrows furrowed and he cocked his head to the side.

"Terrell? Isn't that your last name?" He asked, looking over at Kaylee and Jamison. They both nodded softly with a solemn look on their baby faces. Detective Newton looked back at me puzzled.

"Isn't it funny how if I hadn't rejected Charlie, Jamison and Kaylee wouldn't be family through marriage but by blood?" I questioned looking at the sheer magnitude of how things went. Jamison looks so much like Charlie, and Kaylee looks like me when we were 21. Oh, how life has a funny way of making things work.

"So, Jamison is Charlie Terrell's Great Grandson and Kaylee is your Great Granddaughter." Detective Newton clarified more for his own purposes than the investigations. I smiled at him and nodded gently.

"Okay, back to the story: you left Baton Rouge because Charlie Terrell was stalking you. How long did you wait before leaving for California? At what point did you realize Charlie wasn't just trying to win your heart but he was stalking you? How did he know you were in California?" Detective Newton was far too into the story for the investigation's purposes; he was very much intrigued by my story of how I fell in love with one of the Black Dahlia Killers. He was very much interested in my life story.

Los Angeles, California

October 1943

I stepped off the platform with two suitcases and a backpack. The small heel of my black ballet shoes clicked against the concrete as I carried myself out of the train station. There once were adrenaline fuelled butterflies in my stomach but now they're worrisome wasps that stung me with anxiety. I ran away from Baton Rouge. I ran away from Louisiana. I ran away from my family. I ran away from everything I've ever known with two suitcases of clothes, a backpack of identification and some cash. I had no home, no job. I had nothing but what I carried. But I had to leave Louisiana. Leaving Baton Rouge wouldn't have been good enough, I needed to leave and go far away. I'm not sure what made me jump the gun like this. All I remember is sitting up in my room, listening to a Robert Johnson record then I was packing my bags in a frenzied panic. Somehow I convinced my cousin, Marlene to drive me to the bank to pull out all of my money so I wouldn't be broke when I arrived at my new home. Marlene drove me to the train station in Shreveport while mama was at Church and daddy was at work. I purchased a one way train ticket to California and left. Marlene had to lie and say she was only out for a drive because we had gotten into an argument and she needed to blow off some steam. I promised her I'd write as soon as I get settled.