I'm Sorry (Not Really)

Chapter Nineteen

It's coming to a close,

Just one more step,

We're almost there,

Don't give up on me yet.

~A. F.   

           Neither of us spoke until Vanessa came back from the bathrooms, smiling at us without a clue as to what had conspired while she was in the bathroom. "I hope you two weren't too awkward without me here to help you talk." Vanessa joked, sliding back into her spot next to me.

          "Thankfully Gia is quite easy to talk to." I smiled at Vanessa and looked at Gia, who smiled thinly, nodding her head in agreement. Vanessa didn't seem to notice anything off though and continued chatting through the rest of lunch, until, thankfully, we had to go our separate ways. Vanessa always means well but she is a huge chatterbox and frankly, it's annoying and I can't stand to be around her for more than I have to.

          The end of the day couldn't come soon enough in my opinion. Although I had slept in through the first bit of school, I felt exhausted. Maybe it was dealing with Giana during lunch, maybe it was Vanessa talking my ear off or maybe I'm just stressed about the whole Taylor thing.

          Not to mention the Samuel and magic thing, which I've been pushing to the far corner of my mind and ignoring. I sighed as I finally let myself think about it, I'm probably crazy for even contemplating the existence of magic and shit. But even if it isn't real, does that mean Samuel is involved in some sort of cult? And Taylor's words were similar if not the same as Maria's, which means if this is some sort of cult I've stumbled upon then Taylor might be involved. And if she is, should I help her out of it? Get her to some rehab facility or something?

          My phone buzzed in my hand and it was a text from Taylor. It was an address, no other words other than a street name and house address.

          At least I'm able to see Taylor and judge her state of mind and the state of the place she is living with my own eyes. As far as I know, Samuel is dead, not that it matters to me. The more I think about it the more I want to go back to Maria's and have her wipe my memory. If that's even a possibility.

          The address was all the way across town, at least an hour-long drive. Hopefully, I'll be able to sneak it by my mother by telling her I was with a study group or some fuckery if she notices, which is a big if. So far so good though, because as far from our house as it may be, it is in a safe spot of town. Not really the place you'd expect a bunch of mad-ass cult leaders to put their members. And while some might say it was just coincidence that Taylor said those words, I don't believe in coincidence.

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          When I got to the address, I saw that it was an apartment building. The set of apartments looked fairly new given the fact that they were clean and all the gardens and grasses look like they're cared for well.

          I got out of my car and made my way towards the apartment number she gave me, apartment 31. On the top floor of the first building out of a set of three.

          The brick-red carpet inside the building and along the hallways was clean and perfect looking, the elevator was in pristine condition and it was smooth as it took me up to the top floor, right before the roof. I found the hallways up here to be even cleaner than the ones on the lower floor. With not a speck of dust in sight and the gold letters on each apartment door shining without a blemish.

          Before I even had the chance to knock on the apartment number Taylor gave me, the door swung open and a messy-haired Taylor stood in paint-stained sweatpants and a dark-colored tank top. It was hard to tell if she had been painting right at that moment because you couldn't exactly tell what stains were new and what stains had been there for years.

          "Hi." She breathed out, smiling slightly. I noticed her arms reflexively go up to give me a hug but she stops herself, remembering I don't like to be touched.

          "Hello.," I said slowly, trying to look past her into the apartment. We stood there for a moment in awkward silence before Taylor moved out of the doorway and gestured me into the apartment.

          The apartment had tons of items thrown about, a towel on the couch, a book on the kitchen counter, random tubes of paint on the tv stand, and more. It looked like an absolute mess. The kitchen and living room only had half a wall separating them, with a little serving window slash bar type thing in the wall. In the living room were a single couch, coffee table, and tv. From there you could see three doors, one a bathroom, and the other two bedrooms presumably.

          "Sorry it's messy," Taylor said hurriedly. "With me having just moved in and all my art stuff, everything is chaos." She explained quickly, picking up random things around the room and putting them away in an attempt to clean up.

         "Hm, where is your roommate?" Taylor grimaced slightly at my question, walked over to one of the doors, the one farthest from the kitchen, and knocked.

          After a few seconds, a little boy walked out of the room, his head only reaching my shoulders. He glared at Taylor, his dark fuzzy black hair looking like it hadn't been combed for a few days. His eyes had dark circles that stood out on his already dark skin. He wore a loose shirt with baggy jeans, no shoes or socks. He looked like he was ten, which only raised more questions about this living situation.

          "This.. is Brone... My roommate." Taylor said hesitantly. Brone turned his glare to me, looking like he had just been woken up, which given his state, I wouldn't be surprised if that was true.

          "I thought I said no friends over. Who is he?" I almost jumped out of my skin when he talked, his voice was that of a full-grown adult, with a twinge of accent I can't place.

          Taylor huffed and rolled her eyes, "It's my brother, Thomas. I told you he was coming over today." Brone tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the doorframe, seeming like he couldn't care less who I was or what I was doing, only that he was being disturbed.

          "You can stop staring. I'm not fucking your sister or anything." Taylor blanched and stuttered, trying to make some sort of response.

          I scoffed. "Oh, I wasn't worried about that. Ten-year-olds really isn't her style."

          Brone turned to Taylor. "He can stay. Just don't bother me." He hunched his shoulders and stalked back into his room, slamming the door with an echoing bam.