Hide and Seek

Chapter 6: The Girl

"Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive." -Dalai Lama

Onyx

I took a deep breath and looked back to the headquarters, now just lights glinting in the darkness of the night through the back of the black jeep I was driving. A few hours ago I had asked for a vacation, and to my surprise, they had granted me five days to do what I want. I was, after all, one of their most loyal and skilled assassins. After being given twenty thousand American dollars, they had made me promise to keep to myself and not do anything drastic, but if for some reason I did, I would always have my gun on me just incase.

This night was going to be a long one, for the ride to Brooklyn was five hours long, but somehow, for once, the scream of guilt was quiet.

"Can I reserve a room for a couple nights?" I asked the lady behind the counter at the Crystal Inn Hotel.

She was an annoying person who had a messy ponytail on the side of her head, thick black goth make up, and chewed her gum with her mouth wide open.

"You know we aren't supposed to do that right?" she asked in her reluctant monotone voice. "You're supposed to make reservations over the phone."

"Well seeing that it's eleven a.m., I'm kind of expecting you to let me make one for tonight." I told her, trying to hold back my anger.

"Well we're not." she blew a bubble and popped it.

I took a deep breath. "Can I speak with your manager?"

She shrugged and turned to go get the person in charge, leaving me to smile at the sweetness that the absence of her presence left. A few minutes later, a brunette woman walked in and smiled at me and a name tag that read Sarah.

"He, sir, I'm the manager," she said "Kathrynn said you wanted to see me? Do you need help reserving a room?"

I took a deep exasperated breath. "No, I just need to get a room for a couple of days, your fastidioso dipendente wouldn't let me. Something about only being able to if a client calls."

She groans, obviously knowing what I meant although not understanding the language, and turns back to the door the girl, Kathrynn went through.

"I told you that they can get a room in person, like, fifteen times, Kathrynn!" she yelled.

"Sorry!" the annoying desk attendant yelled back, sarcasm dripping off the word.

Sarah turned back to me, a flustered smile imprinted in her face. "So, you want a room?"

I nodded and she turned to her computer to type something in.

"Here," she slid me a key card. "Room 113."

I smiled my thanks to her and returned outside to collect my bags.

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There you are. I thought, my mouse hovering over her high school senior picture.

After having grabbed my belongings, I had made my way up to the second floor of the hotel, to my room (which consisted of a regular queen-sized bed, small bathroom, television, microwave, and mini-fridge), ordered pizza from the nearest Domino's, and had dug my laptop out of my monster of a bag to look up the girl who haunted my mind.

I clicked on a link below the picture, taking me to an article specially written on her after the murder of her parents five months ago. A strange lump settled into my stomach as I read it, the feeling intensifying as my eyes landed on a picture of the girl soon after the assassination, watching pale and almost hollow as she gazed upon the authorities as they shuffled body-bags out of a house with a teal door.

The article below told about her life, and I let my eyes skim it, not lingering on any one bit of information, until a sentence jumped out, catching my attention in an iron fist.

"Kelsey Moreau now attends LIU Brooklyn, majoring in psychology with a hope to someday find who is responsible for her parents murder."

My eyes held the words, reading them over and over, for some reason in a stunned shock until all at once my muscles finally responded and I was googling her campus. Pictures pop up as the screen loads; smiling students, buildings, lectures. I shambled around on the page looking for nothing in particular, but with the hope that maybe some piece of information would jump out at me, like it had in the article, that would help lead me to her whereabouts.

It was the calendar that helped me find the first footsteps in her direction. Tonight on campus, held for all the freshmen to get to know each other, was a dance. It was formal, and to my surprize, although it was held for the college greenies, anybody was allowed to attend. Why I took such great interest in this Kelsey, who's parents I helped murder, I didn't know. A strange feeling of relief swept over me, which I almost immediately pushed it away, cursing myself. I didn't care for her, she just intrigued me. I wanted to meet the girl who haunted me. To prove this to myself, I made up my mind. I was going to the event on the obsession to see her, if she was even going to be there.

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As I entered the room, a massive thing with murals painted on the walls and arching ceilings reminding me of a medieval ballroom, I hugged the walls, staying in the shadows and on the edge of crowds, not wanting to attract attention. The crowd of students moved with song whether it be a slow dance or energetic one, they swayed with their partners, the atmosphere heavy with joy. Confusion, wonder and the forbidden emotion of longing swirled inside my being watching these people with relatively carefree lives, without the burden that I carry, in lack of the many whose blood is on my hands.

The commotion in my brain went away almost instantaneously when I saw her, on the other side of the room, standing, in all her glory, wearing an elegant, knee length, light pink dress with cap sleeves, flower embroidery, and a charcoal gray belt with an elaborate decorative clasp in the center of the front. Her blonde hair was cascading with ringlets down her back and, although I tried, my eyes couldn't leave the tall, slim, blonde girl standing nervously in the corner.