Black Rose

Sixteen

Melrose POV

Sitting on the window pane, I gazed down at the busy streets below, wishing I could be as brave my fellow Seattleites who seem to not have a care in the world about anything. Since last night, I've been afraid to walk out of my apartment in fear of running into creepy Winter in the city. I've created crazy scenarios in my head as to how he could've possibly known exactly where I lived but none were enough to kill the fear within me. To ride with a man you don't even know is where the huge mistake first happened. I've never done anything like that in my life and I don't know what came over me last night to agree to such a thing, so I'm just going to blame the alcoholic beverage in my system. Yeah, that's totally what caused my erratic behavior.

Gazing down at my vibrating phone, I rolled my eyes in utter annoyance as Raine called me for the umpteenth time. After his rudeness towards me yesterday, I decided completely wipe my hands clean of him. I'm facing enough problems of my own, leaving no room in my life to take on his hot and cold ways. I guess Victoria wasn't around to keep him company since all he's done is stalk my line. And to think I was secretly jealous of her.
I deeply wanted him to be apart of this craziness, seeing as it's dealing with our daughter, but he screwed it up for himself, so I will be moving forward in speaking with the anonymous person alone.

Staring at the paper with the number written on it, I seriously debated on if I should call them. Apparently, they're the bastards who slammed into my car, so they should be held accountable for their actions whether it was intentional or an accident. With each number I pressed, I grew anxious of what's to come in the seconds ahead. I could feel my insides tingling like being tickled with a feather and my hands were so clammy, you'd think I stuck them over a pot of boiling water. The sound of the ringer played a tune in my ear, bringing me back to reality and I ended the call before anyone could answer.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." I hit myself on the forehead repeatedly in disbelief of my own actions. I'm a severely depressed and suicidal individual who was calling my daughter's killer. That entire conversation would've been forced, awkward and plain naive. Not one positive outcome would've come from it, but I need this person to reveal themselves. Practicing my breathing exercises, I slowly breathed in and out with my eyes closed. In order to get through this call, I had to prepare myself mentally. Once I felt I was ready as ever, I mocked my actions from moments ago and waited for someone to answer. What are you doing? I thought inwardly. Right when my finger hovered over the red end button, they answered. Or shall I say she answered?

"Hello?" One of the most soothing voices I've ever heard flowed through the speaker. I couldn't speak, I couldn't think. I was stuck and she noticed. "Melrose, is this you?"

My mouth opened and closed, words wanting to come out but couldn't, so I opted for a small "mhm".

I heard a small gasp. "Oh, wow. I didn't think you'd use my number. Although I'm relieved that you did." She added for clarification.

"You killed my daughter." Was all I could muster up at the moment.

"I didn't kill her..." She paused dramatically. "Technically."

I frowned, confused and angry by her statement. "Technically! What the fuck do you mean? Either you killed her or you didn't. There is no damn technically or in between and whatever else." I was furious at this insane woman, but more so at myself for evening entertaining her.

"That didn't come out right. Can we meet somewhere?" She queried quietly. "I'd rather explain it to you in person."

"I don't think that's a good idea." I declined immediately.