4 Minutes. [Discontinued]

I.

The smell of something pleasantly sweet awakens me. I slightly open my eyes, only to be greeted with darkness yet again. I can tell that it's morning though since the bedroom door is wide open and Robyn isn't in bed anymore. Even though it's morning time, it doesn't surprise me that the woman left the entire house dark and doesn't open the blinds to let in sunlight. She always does this.

I swear Robyn is a vampire or something. She hates sunlight and just light in general and constantly wears dark clothing, even though she isn't depressed at all. I can't even think of a time where she's not happy, other than when she comes across a sad song on the radio.

When my eyes refocus, I stare out the opened door into the hallway, vaguely seeing the kitchen light on downstairs. The Barbadian woman is probably eating something sweet, watching the news like she does almost every morning. The smell of whatever she's eating makes my stomach growl, distracting me from falling back asleep. I exhale through my nose. Might as well get up.

Goosebumps instantly dances up my arms as I slip out from under the covers. I silently walk through the hallway and down the stairs, the kitchen light being my only guidance. Not even to the fourteenth step, I suddenly hear, "Morning, Nicki!"

I stop at the mid-stair and blink before continuing to keep walking. Robyn's sixth sense is already activated. "Morning, Robyn," I call back, my voice nowhere near as enthusiastic as Robyn's. I'm not a morning person.

When I enter the living-room, I'm met with a very awake Robyn, sitting on the black leathered couch munching on glazed doughnut holes. Her face is lit by the bright TV screen and her eyes are wide with curiosity, locked on the news in front of her. Instead of her hair being in unruly curls, she has it straightened and swirled up in a perfect bun.

A moment later, her eyes finally flicker to my awkwardly standing form. "Hey, Nick. Want one?" she offers, holding out one of the sweet-smelling, round doughnuts toward me. Before I can answer her, she gasps out, "Nicki, this is terrible. Did you hear what happened the night before yesterday's?"

I blink. "N-no."

"A twenty-five-year-old girl was found brutally murdered in an alleyway downtown," she explains. "They said she has a six-year-old son and one-month-year-old daughter, and now they have to live without their own mother. That's awful." Robyn shakes her head as her face is contorted with sadness mixed with anger. "Who would do something like that?"

My heart thuds dully in my chest as I lock my eyes on the TV screen. A recent picture of the mother, Tawni Brown, before her murder is being shown. She is smiling brightly at the camera, obviously taking a selfie. Her caramel hair is in many ringlets of long curls, and her light brown skin and eyes are practically radiant from the lighting.

I just blink at the picture, my blood slowly beginning to boil.

"And worst of all, they can't find any evidence of whoever the suspect was that killed her," Robyn continues to rant. "No DNA, no footprints, fingerprints. Nothing. That's crazy."

I remain quiet, not saying a word about the situation. I try suppressing the bubbles in my tummy and my smile of satisfaction as best as I can. It takes everything within me to not laugh at the irony of this. It is so amusing to me.

Once the news moves on to the next event or tragedy that's happened in the world, Robyn plops another doughnut in her mouth, which reminds her of asking and offering me one again. I nod and take one from the Dunkin' Donuts paper bag, instantly melting at how good it tastes.

"I should've bought you that ham and cheese thing you like," Robyn acknowledges, and I'm glad she isn't talking about the murder anymore and now engrossed on the following subject that's displayed, munching on the amazing doughnuts and occasionally sharing some with me.