The Future Diary 2: Blood Of The Past

Downtown

"Good morning, Dalton!"

Dalton sat up in bed, her hair a tangled mess beside her. She looked at the clock. It was almost six in the morning.

"Why the hell would you wake me up this early?" She rubbed her eyes. "We don't have work until eight."

"Well, you're my best friend, so I'm allowed to mess with you."

Dalton scoffed. "That doesn't mean shit, Mason."

Mason looked hurt. "I'm sorry."

Dalton threw a pillow at him. "And since you're my best friend, I get to make fun of you."

"Fair enough."

Dalton climbed out of bed, quickly grabbing her clothes off of the floor and getting dressed. She passed by the crib next to her closet, inside her baby boy. She looked at his tiny, frail body, watching him soundly asleep wrapped up in a blanket. She couldn't help but smile, even slightly.

"How's it been, taking care of him?" Mason asked.

Dalton looked at the short boy. "It's been a struggle. I guess. Hell of alot easier with you."

"Oh, thank you," Mason remarked.

"Actually, I take that back. You're like a second child. A liability."

Mason shook his head and the two walked into Dalton's living room. She lived in a small apartment above the restaurant she worked at, got a cheap rent from the owner who constantly tried to hit on her, and her best friend of twenty years lived across the hallway. The living room was dirty, with clothes and wrappers scattered about. Dalton picked up an empty pizza box.

"How can a twig like you eat so much pizza?"

"I was really hungry!"

"Yeah but do you have to pollute my fucking house in the process?"

"Do you have to be so mean to me?"

"No, but it's fun."

She threw the box in a trash can and left her apartment, with Mason still inside to watch her kid. She trusted him after all the years she had known him, through high school and college, and all the bad times she had gone through when she had him.

She sighed as she went down the stairs, bad memories flooding into her head. The New York sky was dark and dreary as usual, with the sound of traffic in the air and the vibrant smells surrounding her. People walked about, heading to their jobs as Dalton rounded the corner to head to hers. It was a small, all-day shop that doubled as a restaurant. She was a waitress with another girl, and had to put up with annoying, drowsy people all day.

"Dalton," a voice called. "What are you doing here early?"

Dalton looked at the woman who stood unlocking the door. "I got woken up early, Sara. Figured I'd open up."

"Same here," Sara replied, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned the key and the door opened.

"Are we gonna be busy today?" Dalton asked.

"It's almost Christmas, you should know by now," Sara said.

"That doesn't answer me."

"Yes bitch. We are going to be busy."

The girls laughed as Dalton went behind the counter. The hours passed quickly, as Dalton dealt with snotty, tired customers who passed in and out. When she wasn't serving, she stood in the back, looking up at the TV monitor that was above the counter.

"We are aware that the killings of the recent weeks have been becoming more and more frequent," the mayor said on television. "The city of New York is doing our best to stop this killer, before any more innocent lives are harmed. It is our duty to protect the lives of our citizens, and it is our duty to preserve the peace and stand together as one when times are rough..."

"Do you think they're gonna catch that guy?" Sara asked.

Dalton shrugged. "Fuck if I know. As long as it isn't me."

"Terrible thinking," Sara said.

"Like you're any better," Dalton replied. "You're the most selfish person I know."

"You're right. I'd probably throw somebody in front of a bus before anything happened to me." Sara adjusted her glasses and walked into the kitchen. "Oh, and your ex is sitting at a table out there. I'd figure you want to talk to him."

Dalton froze. She looked out, and sure enough, there he sat, alone at a table for two, watching the same TV that she did. She stormed over to him, trying to keep a straight look on her face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dalton snapped as soon as she came close.

The man looked up at her. "I just want a coffee."

"Bullshit!" Dalton hissed. "You've never came back into my life before if you didn't need something, Dawson. That's how you are."

"I don't need anything from you. I give you my money, and you still stay in this place?"

"I don't want your money! I want you! You're just the rich guy that stole my heart and knocked me up, then left when I needed you most."

Dawson shook his head. "It's a lot more complicated than that, I can assure you."

"You keep telling me that, but you never give me answers." Dalton looked to be on the verge of tears. "Every night I wonder why you left me. Every damn night."

"I've always cared about you, Dalton, I left for a good reason."

"Fuck you," Dalton said, turning away.

"Wait," Dawson said, grabbing her wrist.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she yelled, grabbing the attention of the whole room. Dawson let go and sat back down as Dalton stormed away.

"Take the day off," Sara said as Dalton passed her. "You deserve it."

"Thanks," Dalton said, walking back out into the room, and out of the restaurant door. She needed to cool off. She walked down the street, making way towards the docks outlooking the Hudson. She could almost feel the cool breeze against her face when she heard his voice again.

"Dalton..."

"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING CREEP!" she turned and yelled.

Dawson kept walking. "I'll tell you everything, you just have to listen to me."

Dalton breathed hard. She looked him directly in the eye. "What do you want?"

"I just want you to listen to me, and you have to believe me."

"What are you talking about?"

"The letter, Dalton. It's true. The game is real."

Dalton stopped dead in her tracks. She could feel a chill shoot down her spine. She was too scared to even stop Dawson when he began to walk away.