Two Miles to Heaven

-Chapter 19- «Paranoia»

It was a refrigerating night with a heavy wind hovering around town.

The sky nestled a gazillion stars that had a couple of shooting ones scattering everywhere in the outerspace. The full moon was so round-shaped you could mistake it for Sybill Trelawney's crystal ball and shinier than Remus Lupin's 'Expecto Patronum' charm wand situation.

The only thing that I couldn't understand, from the district where I was standing, was the quietness that weighed on the streets. The nightclubs were closed and there was no traffic, which is weird if you ask me, because those two major elements are what defines New York.

Not enough light coming from the skyscrapers' windows, not many pedestrians walking hurriedly back to their humid lofts.

Although, there was a cat who came to crouch on my ankles. She looked exactly like my mom's cat, Pucci. She named her after Emilio Pucci; a Munchkin baby with big ball eyes and soft ginger hair. This cat really looks a lot like the one I used to play hide-and-seek with, when I was a kid.

-"Aren't you afraid, waddling by yourself here, in the middle of the night?" I asked her, just like I used to do when I was five and she meowed back, just like I knew she would.

I kept petting her and she was enjoying it, as usual, until she started walking away from me, going into a blind alley.

-"Hey! Where are you going?" I shouted.

She didn't stop but she would turn around to gaze at me, from time to time, as if she was asking me to follow her. And that's what I did, stepping inside the blind alley.

It looked like a horror movie. A Stanley Kubrick's hotel corridor kinda scene from the 'Shining' movie, indeed.

I hastily walked half the way through the quiet secluded place but Pucci was, henceforth, out of sight and I was left alone, breathing heavily.

I made a few hesitant steps forward until I found myself in front of La Grenouille, the French eatery. Closed like the other restaurants but a slight dim light coming from the back kitchen.

A couple of waiters just finished their shift, they weren't aware of my presence as they were laughing on their way to the train station.

The light was still on so I just assumed that the self-absorbed narcissistic André was still preaching his Bisque de Homard there.

I peeked through the window and there she was, Alice Studman, lying on the kitchen counter with him on top of her.

"This was the night she was killed." My subconscious alerted me.

He softly planted slinky kisses on her neck as she violently ripped his shirt off. André, then, gently pulled her undies off, accidentally throwing them off in the not-covered stewpan.

Well, I guess that I will never set foot in here, for the rest of my life.

She unbuttoned his pants, then began moaning her lungs out as he slowly started thrusting in.

-"Oh, André! I love you!" she painfully screamed.

-"Oh, Alice! Je t'aime encore plus!" he responded, heavily sweating from humping fast, successively.

I disgustingly quivered at this abnormal cringeworthy sex scene. It felt like watching a porn blooper that wasn't even funny to watch.

It's incredible how things can be unpredictable in life. This woman is currently having an amazing time with her love, ignoring the fact that she was going to walk away from this world in a frightfully way and ignoring that her daughter was going to be delighted by her departure.