Elle Jones

Chapter 17: The Plan

After leaving the apartment, Austin retrieved Kristy's spare car keys from the light bulb's glass bowl, dropped it into his pocket, then strolled down the corridor with me walking behind his heels.

Thanks to the white hue, I can see a glimmer stained on the silver car keys. Attached to them, is a rainbow flag, a stuffed Winnie the Pooh bear, and a small, golden portrait frame containing a photo of Olivia Hale.

I tilt my head to look at the image.

Raven dark hair, brown eyes, sexy olive skin, no wonder Kristy had fallen head over heels for this girl.

Austin had once told me that Kristy had met Olivia during her sophomore year in college.

New York University, I think.

Anyway, Kristy was going to her first art class, when she noticed men and women marching on the road, protesting against homophobia in New York. Some were pelting rocks at the officers, while others were holding their painted signs up high, stating their rights to be same-sex couples.

Believe it or not, one of the protesters was a stunning Vietnamese woman with big brown eyes, luscious black hair, and a "spunky" attitude.

At that moment, Kristy saw Olivia's beautiful face, it was love at first sight.

Studying the silver trinkets from a further distance, I asked Austin: "Why does Kristy have another set of keys?"

As soon as I asked that, Austin scratches his head in embarrassment.

"Kristy has some sort of attention deficit disorder," he explained. "It makes it harder for her to remember things."

"Oh," I say, bobbing my head.

"I mean," Austin went on, "Kristy can do normal things like, driving a car, buying groceries, and other shit. But most days, she forgets certain things, like where Kristy puts her keys and stuff."

Digging my hands into my pockets, I maintained my composure by searching for any late-night sleepwalkers. But luckily, we didn't hear the constant jingle coming from the rusty doorknobs.

Meanwhile, everything was quiet; no loud arguments, no signs of the janitor vacuuming the small hallways, and not even a fly buzzing around.

It was only the smell of Clorox that blinded my nostrils.

"Wow," I thought to myself.

I may not be an expert in God, but this apartment complex appears as if the rapture happened behind my back.

Passing through the locked doors, I thought Austin and I can easily escape the apartment complex, but just then, a loud, drunken voice send chills down our spines.

"JACK!" it growled. "JACK, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Austin and I froze, too stiff to make a move.

Angry sounds of flying dishes crashed against the walls, as Joseph's banging footsteps stomped on the floors.

"JACK?" Joseph bellowed. "WHERE ARE YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH?!"

The next thing I heard is large pieces of wooden furniture overturning.

CRASH!

SHATTER!

Listening to Joseph rage was like an earthquake fracturing the Earth's crust, and there was no way around it.

"JACK!" Joseph screamed. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

Scared, Austin became very reluctant leaving the apartment complex, until I take his left hand then drag him away from my drunk father's screams.