The Journal [A Sequel To Maya's Diary]

Chapter Fifteen

Edward's POV

I treated the scarred tissue that became visible on my cheek, with some antibacterial agent and soothed it with an ointment that instilled a cold sensation right about the point of the injury. I didn't think some random girl hairpin, would have such a remarkable negative impact on my beard sprout jaw. Although it had been a while since the tragic incident, the cut kept reopening becoming anew. After repeating the process of disinfection for a couple of times, I stared sternly into the mirror. My reflection mocked me. I glared at a look of anger and fear, but substituted the fear for an idea on what next to be done. I had to leave. I had to change like I've done before. I've killed a ton of people and got away with it with much ease, an addition shouldn't be a problem.

I heard a knock on the door. It came repeatedly in the pattern of three. I ignored the knocks and kept dabbing the dark red scar, but whoever stood behind the door must have been very persistent. I didn't have any friend and I wondered who it would have been. Dropping the soaked soft white cotton ball, that was tinted with a light shade of indigo where my fingers had been and deeper purple where it had been in contact with the thick violet fluid, I ran down the stairs.

The house smelt of an acrid distaste and its pungency made my stomach growl for help. Ever since Maya left, everything had lost its usual balance. There was a particular rhythmical order her presence gave. She had everything locked away where it should be; My jeans folded neatly and kept on one side of the closet, my socks, my shirts... She gave life to my disordered life. Now the house smelt of a skunk's emission and I had an old pizza box loiter around the corner, with its drawing of a chef and his ridiculously long hat that defied real, his lips curved into a huge grin settling a huge layer of skin just below the corner of his eyes. His fingers lightly held up an identical box which perspectively contained the same drawing. My suit shirt laid helplessly across the arm of the couch and I couldn't help but imagine Maya on it. She did look amazing whenever she had my shirt on.

The knocks persisted and I hurriedly came close enough to the door. I turned open the door handle without much stress on my arms and beheld a man with the largest sinister grin I could've ever imagined. He was tall on a black three piece suit with a squeaky clean black matching shoe. His skin gave off a nice color toner of black and his eyes, wood brown. His hair was cut into a punk with the razor edged sides into a thin line. His lips glimmered pink when he bit it, but quickly transited back to light brown within seconds.
His grin increased in length and I realized we stood awkwardly for seconds.

"Hello Steve, or is it Bennet? Chase? Edward? Whatever identity you're going with now."

"Who are you?" I asked a bit scared and irritated.

"Why? Won't you let me in?"

"Who are you? The next time I won't ask much nicely."

"I'm Manuel," he said curving his lips back to the grin almost immediately.

"Get out!" I replied forcefully closing the door shut, but his hands stopped me midway.

"You killed her lover. It would be such a shame if she joined him now. Awkward reunion, wouldn't it be? I mean I'll only be doing her a favor."

"Go near Maya and I'll-"

"Enough of the threats. You can't do anything really, don't you get it? You can't save her now. You cannot even save you. Let me in now, we have a lot to discuss," he said as his grin sublimed.

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"Who are you?"

"I'm Manuel."

"Spare me that. Like really who are you?"