Devil In A White Dress

Thirty-Two

"Nine-One-One, what's your emergency?"

"Oui? Uh....yes," Monsieur Pascal choked and swallowed, "We just entered the school and right now we seeing dead body.... I think it's Mrs. Louise. The Math teacher. There is b-b-blood all over the floor.... and....I-I think someone came in and..... Pl-please come as soon as possible......"

In approximately 11:23, Martin had been at his studio recording as though absolutely nothing had just happened hours ago. Right after the studio, he went over to his friend's girlfriend's house and picked up two of her friends, went over to another group of friends' houses to buy a stash of drugs, marijuana and cocaine, then went back to his friend's girlfriends house to snort them.

At approximately 11:59, one of his friend's girlfriends showed him the trending YouTube video. Martin's heart sunk to the bottomless abyss. His soul had turned rotten and totally decay when he watched with his own two eyes, the dismantled Hamilton Elementary bus being excavated from the damaged forklift. What he remembered was Kenny getting ready to take kids on a field trip.

He wore that blue cap and said goodbye to him in the kitchen when he was having the usual cream crackers and cereal.

"Dawg. I think your dad was driving that bus, man," one of his friends alerted him.

But Martin wasn't there. He started to see flashes illuminate all around his head.

"What?", he muttered loudly. That was all Martin could say at this very moment.

"Your dad was drivin' that bus, Martin. Wasn't he?", his friend asked again.

"Martin. It's okay. We're here for you," one of the girls voiced out while caressing him over the shoulder, but he threw her hands away immediately.

"What?", he uttered again. Totally dazed and unaware of himself.

"Martin. This news came hours ago. I think your dad's in the hospital right now. You better go check it out."

"What?"

"I don't think he can hear us," one of the girls muttered in concern, "He does this anytime he's stunned at something. I think it's better we leave him alone."

"What?"

"Martin. Please listen to me. This isn't the time to mop around. You should go see him now. As of now, you don't know his state. He could be in a coma. Or....or..."

"Bro. Don't you dare say it," another buddy alerted him, "You know how Martin can flip out. I think we should leave him alone right now."

"What?"

"Martin. I understand, you've been through a lot. Just remember your hommies are here for you, dawg."

"Are you fucking retarded?", one of the girls scolded him, "Let's get out of here now. He needs to handle this shit on his own right now."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

All his friends froze at once. Martin finally spoke words other than What because half of his consciousness had been awake. The other had been dead, absolutely pale and breathless. Sweat trickled down and he could feel the shirt beneath his velvet jacket get soggy wet. The warm temperature of the room was getting to him, so he decided to get up and make his voice heard again.

"What the fuck are you talking about? There is no bus. There is no accident, hommies. Can't you see? It's all in your mind."

"Oh no", one of the girls muttered aloud, "He's flipped. Here it comes."

"You're all being paranoid. It must be the drugs we're taking. Yes, I think it is. We've been doing this shit for a long time and I believe it's causing us to hallucinate. My dad was never in no bus. And I can prove to all ya hommies. See, this morning. I woke up, my mom left for work before my dad did. I was in the kitchen by the time my dad got up and took his little tiny hat and told me he was going to the park.

Yeah. He said he was going to Central Park, you dig? He wasn't driving any bus. He wasn't going for any damn field trip this morning. He went to Central Park."

"I know it's hard, Martin," his buddy comforted him again, "We were at the studio the whole time, we didn't even notice. If I'd known earlier, I would have told you hours ago."

"You're lying," Martin shot back stubbornly, "This isn't real. None of what you are telling me is real. This is fucked up."

"Guys. Let's leave him alone. Now," one of the girls repeated loudly.

"No. No, you stay here. All 'a ya stay right here," Martin ordered feverishly. His skin was so soaked in sweat and by the way he paced back and forth, his friends could tell he was just forcing himself to collapse, "I'll leave. I'm gonna leave you guys for the mean time. But I'll be back, I promise I will. I just need air."

He had been still been dazed and his speech sounded so exaggerated. The wisest thing for him to do now was exit the apartment and march straight to the Hamilton Elementary. He wished that in a matter of seconds ahead, the cocaine he snorted would take its mass effect and force him into hallucinations. He wished the recent events had just been hallucinations.

He would never lose his mom and dad, Martin thought. Not now. Not till he reached the age where he raised their grandchildren. When the sun was getting low, Martin sat on the grey bench behind the pine tree and smoked at least two or three cigars and sang his own rap song to himself. A moment later, he walked over to the basketball court and watched kids less than his age argue amongst themselves.

What a fucked-up city, Martin muttered to himself. He chuckled as well. The thing he knew, he was walking right towards the Hamilton Elementary, ignoring everything that wanted to stop him from finding out the truth. Images of what Jenny or Kenny would look like dead started popping out. For a moment, he laughed at these things.

It would be an entirely new experience in his life to see his mother and father actually murdered in cold blood. He rapped about death and contemplating suicide every blessed day being cooped up in the studio.

Everything is going to be alright, Martin, he remembered Jenny telling him when he was in bed, I promise I won't ever leave you. You've been through hell more than I have, and I promise I'll always be there for you, son.

Unlike his mother, all that there was about Kenny for Martin to remember was his usual "Don't stay up too late", "Be back before midnight", "Don't talk back to me, boy", "Don't you dare talk back at your mother, boy", "Don't curse in my house, boy", "When are you ever going to quit this stupid rapping thing that you do and focus on the real world, boy?", "You're not going to make a fool out of this family, boy".

But now here he was. Kenny was actually hospitalized for the first time and Martin had been recording in the studio whilst entirely unaware of his state. He just needed to know if Jenny knew. He needed to know if his mother had been okay.

A few more walks further to the school did Martin the trick. But now he had just heard dozens of sirens and spotted NYPD vehicles parked amongst the many empty vehicles on campus. His confusion left. Martin was now awake and his mind gained consciousness.

What the hell is happening today? Martin muttered frantically. Invisible hands reached for his heart and began ripping it out of his chest when there'd been a short distance between him and Hamilton Elementary main entrance.