ELECTRIC CHAIR

The Future

Vanessa laid back on the worn-out couch, her eyelids heavy, but sleep refused to come easily. The memories of the past few days spun through her mind like a broken record- the murder, the drive, the old apartment-blending together into a chaotic blur. She closed her eyes, hoping that, somehow, sleep would finally find her.

Vanessa shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a spot on the couch that might offer some semblance of rest. The noise from the apartment above, however, made it nearly impossible. The muffled sounds grew louder and more insistent. Vanessa frowned, recognizing the unmistakable noises of a couple in the throes of passion.

"Seriously?" she muttered under her breath. She tried to ignore it, but the sounds only seemed to grow more intense. It was bad enough that she had barely slept during her long drive; now, this.

From above, a woman's voice, breathy and playful, responded, "Gemi, you're driving me crazy, you know that?"

A man's voice, low and urgent, broke through the noise. "That's the point, Eliza. I want you to lose your mind."

Vanessa sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I swear, if they keep this up, I'm going to lose my mind too," she said to herself. She glanced at the clock; it was already past three in the morning.

The man's voice came again, louder this time. "I can't get enough of you. Let me make you come undone!"

The woman giggled, her voice carrying through the ceiling. "Yes! Yes! Make me! Make me!"

Vanessa moved to the kitchen, her movements sluggish from exhaustion. The dim light above the sink flickered as she opened the creaky cabinet doors, searching for a coffee maker. She rifled through the cluttered shelves, pushing aside old mugs and dusty pots.

"Come on, there's got to be something," she murmured to herself, her frustration mounting. She finally spotted an old coffee pot tucked away in the corner, covered in a layer of dust.

She fumbled with the coffee maker, her movements clumsy from exhaustion. The noise from above seemed to match the rhythm of the brewing coffee, a constant reminder of the chaos she was trying to escape.

"Perfect," she said with a touch of sarcastic relief.

As the coffee brewed, Vanessa muttered, "Great, just what I needed-a reminder of how I'm stuck in this old place while everyone else is having fun."

Vanessa leaned against the counter, her gaze drifting to the window. She realized that the snowstorm had stopped. She felt a pang of melancholy as she thought about the life she left behind in Las Vegas, the mundane routine that now seemed almost comforting compared to the chaos she was facing here.

Vanessa's thoughts turned to the upcoming meeting with the lawyer. "What am I even going to say?" she asked herself, her voice tinged with anxiety. "I don't even know where to start."

She poured herself a steaming cup and took a sip, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The sounds above continued unabated, adding to her growing frustration. Vanessa knew she needed to focus on the day ahead. The meeting with the lawyer to discuss her mother's estate and make decisions about the brownstone loomed large. It was a critical moment, and she couldn't afford to let anything-especially the noises from above-distract her.

"Okay, Vanessa," she said, steeling herself. "Get through the day. Meet the lawyer, figure out what to do with the brownstone, and try not to lose your mind in the process."

Vanessa stood in the dimly lit kitchen, clutching her mug like it was the only thing anchoring her to reality. The bitterness of the coffee helped cut through the haze of exhaustion, but it did little to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. She replayed the murder again-the look on her mother's face, the sudden chaos that followed, and the relentless guilt that haunted her every step.