I Don't Love You

014

Gemma sat staring at the screen, completely numb. She felt sick and didn't realise there were tears streaming down her face. She was shaking. She was terrified.

"Police have confirmed that this is the work of a possible serial killer and are working on trying to discover a lead. They're unsure of who could've have committed the murder, but have promised the Nestor family they will find whoever killed their son.

"On the same night that Matt badly disfigured body was found, Julia Afflitto was reported missing. Police have said her disappearance is linked to Matt's death, but have not released any further statements about Julia's absence."

That was the point when Gemma threw up, thick chunks of bile and undigested food splattering all over her mother's spotless cream carpet.

"Shit," Gemma mumbled, panicking.

She lurched to her feet, running to the kitchen and grabbing every cleaning utensil in sight and rushing back to the pile of vomit, scrubbing frantically and spraying whatever cleaning products she'd found on the foul smelling puddle of sick.

Once it was cleaned up as best as possible, Gemma switched the TV off and fled up the stairs to her room, throwing her bedroom door open and flinging herself over her bed to reach her mobile. Her trembling hands scrolled through her contacts desperately for Julia, finding her number and stabbing the call button.

She paced back and forth nervously, tripping over the piles of dirty clothes, CDs and magazines on the floor. She tried to breath normally, but found herself close to hyperventilating.

There was no answer from Julia. Gemma left her a voice mail.

"Julia, what the fuck is happening ?! Where the hell are you, why-Jesus, just call me, yeah? Fuck, please be OK Julia, please be OK," Gemma spluttered in to the phone, hanging up.

The next thing she did was ring Harry.

"Hey Gems!" Her brother chirped happily.

"Harry! Harry, oh God, it's Julia, sh-she's gone, she's missing Harry, it-" Gemma cried in to the phone, breaking off in the middle of her sentence to burst in to sobs, sinking down on to her bed.

"Gemma? Gemma, slow down, just try and talk to me, it's OK," Harry soothed her through the phone, sounding concerned. "What's wrong?"

"It's Julia," Gemma gasped, choking on her sobbing breaths. "It was on the TV, she's gone missing, they...fuck, they don't know where she is and her boyfriend, Matt, he's been murdered Harry! Some sick freak fucked him up, they didn't say exactly what they did, but it sounds like he was mutilated or something and then they killed him!"

There was nothing but quiet breathing from the other end of the line.

"H-Harry?" Gemma sniffed, wiping her face furiously. "Harry, are you still there?"

More silence and then, he spoke.

"I need to go. I'll call you later."

"What?!" Gemma screamed. "No, no Harry, don't go, I'm fucking scared! What if something bad happened to her Harry?! What if the guy who killed Matt took Julia, what if she's dead?!"

"Good bye Gemma."

Then the line went dead and Gemma was left alone in her dark bedroom, holding her mobile in her hand, scared and crying. She let out a desperate strangled cry of anger and fear, throwing her mobile violently at the wall, not caring if it was smashed. Gemma tried to calm herself, breathing heavily and closing her eyes before grabbing a hoodie that was slung over the chair in front of her desk and snatching up her house keys and bolting for the stairs.

Her gangly, long legs tripped her up a few times, but it didn't matter, she just had to get to the front door and out of the house. Her skin was crawling and she felt like she might throw up again.

As soon as the door was locked she took off down the street, not giving a single fuck, just sprinting towards Julia's house. She skidded through the murky, dark puddles that had pooled up on the pavement, the dark sky filled with the dull glow of orange street lights and heavy, battering rain.

When she reached Julia's house she dashed up the path and to the front door, slamming her fists against the door.

"Mrs Afflitto!" She yelled. "Please, please, let me in! Open the door!"

The door swung inwards a few seconds later, revealing Julia's mother.

She was stood there in a thin, battered night dress, an old ratty dressing gown slung over her thin frame, slipping down her shoulders, her slim bare legs appearing at the end of her night dress and her bare feet planted on the floor. Her complexion was sickly and her face was streaked with make-up and tears, her hair a messy dark pile on top of her head. Her eyes were bloodshot and completely empty of all emotion, thick purple circles sunk in to the skin under her eyes.

In her hand she held a half empty bottle of wine.

"Mrs. Afflitto, what happened?" Gemma demanded. "Where is she? Where's Julia?!"

"Gone," she whispered in a drunken slur. "Don't know. Don't know, just... not here, gone."

"But you...why aren't you out there looking for her?! That's your daughter! What if the guy who murdered Matt kidnapped her?! She's out there somewhere and nobody knows if she's dead or alive!"

Mrs. Afflitto made a choked kind of sobbing noise, shaking her head. "No! Just go away Gemma, get out of here! Go away!"

She shoved her drunkenly in the chest, sending her stumbling backwards in to a deep puddle, the front door slamming shut. Gemma stared in disbelief at the door. How could she do this? How could she just sit inside of her house getting drunk whilst her only child was out there somewhere, scared and maybe hurt, maybe even dead?!

She strode back to the door, banging furiously against the wood. "Please! Mrs. Afflitto please!"

A muffled scream and crash came from inside of the house. Gemma swore, kicking the door and turning around, taking off.

She had to find Julia.