The Don's Sweetener [18+]

37

||Some time the monster in me is scared of the monster I've become.||

The world was cruel.

I had established that once I got into the car, that morning leaving the estate behind.

Now after a year and half, I had somewhat managed to get my life together.

When I got down from the car, in front of my old apartment, I walked up and knocked on the door only to see my old room mate, in her sleeping cloths open the door.

And the next thing I knew, she was crying and hugging me and mumbling that I was killed or raped or kidnapped or trafficked to UAE.

She was still sniffing when we walked over to the only couch of the apartment and sat down.

"I thought...I thought that stupid assholeic mission had killed you." She sniffed.

"Hey." I cooed. "Hey, Becca!"

"I am not dreaming, am I?" She asked.

"No." I chuckled. "You're not dreaming, Becca. Calm down."

She sniffed. "It's so weird."

I made coffee, for me and her and toasted bread and made two plates before giving it to her.

"What happened?" She asked.

"I can't tell you." I replied sipping coffee.

"All I was told that, you were inside that gala and there was no communication and the police denied to take your missing report." She said. "Where were you?"

I shake my head.

"You can't or you won't tell me?"

"I can't." I replied.

"You can't have been in a bad place. You're wearing expensive shirt, you smell like roses and you look healthier than ever. So you've not been kidnapped or tortured?"

"No." I replied.

"I can guess." She shrugged.

"Don't guess, Becca. Leave it." I say.

"Do you want to take a nap?" She asked. "Your room is as it is, as you left it." She said.

"I'll take a nap." I said picking up my duffel bag and walking over to my room.

The room as Becca said was just like how I left it.

The single bed in one corner, wall covered with news paper bits, the investigation ledger on my small desk.

I dropped my bag on top of the dust covered bed and pulled my hair up.

It was time to clean.

And now after a year I  was in a antique shop, working as a cashier.