《Running Into Figure Six》


 ONE– FIGURE SIX, GERALD AND SOUNDING NICE

    My first day at Greens Hotels &Suites was like the worst day of my twenty three years in existence.


    I¡¯ve had a couple or more bad days like being held up in the rain, having to catch thete night bus home when every vehicle was packed as hell, when my boyfriend pped me hard in the face behind a public mall because I did not take or return his forty something calls, me getting groped by a tough-looking stranger somewhere in the woods , or when I lost Tom, my therapy cat one fateful summer.


    Me being a teenager and lonely at the time most of these things happened, made it really hard for me to get over Tom, eight yearster.


    Thinking about it now, I¡¯ve had my own fair share of tough times which even losing Tom doesn¡¯t begin to fall into.


    There is a particr one that I can¡¯t seem to forget; like a memory that stays evergreen in my head forever, and that I totally dread re-living- Losing my dad to cancer in 2006.


    It was the year after I lost Tom. Dad¡¯s final breath on his deathbed in a way, gives my family peace up till now, because it meant that he is set free from this chaotic world and all his personal struggles.


    I remember rushing up to my little brother, Stephan, and Margret, my nagging mom, and hugging them tightly after the doctor¡¯s pronouncement of his death, because they are all I have left now, besides Gerald that is.


    Yes, I sure have Gerald, if he won¡¯t go back on his words and break my heart. He has given me five solid reasons to break up with him already, but I give him five new chances each time.


    Jessie, my best friend from childhood, only knows one of these things and yet, she asked me to break up with his ass every single time we talked. But I can¡¯t do that to him yet, except of course he gives me one more reason to. Or when I get too tired to go on. I know that¡¯s toxic, but I can¡¯t help myself.


    ¡°Gerald is the whole red g if he yells in your face like that all the time, you should tell him to go sit his fucking ass somewhere in a therapist¡¯s office, and get some tutoring on anger management, he¡¯s no good for you, girl¡± Jessie reiterated all the time like a favorite hymn, not to his face though, because they haven¡¯t met yet. Maybe if Jessie met him, she would see why I shouldn¡¯t leave him. At least not yet.


    He¡¯s been my only support since my dad¡¯s death. Not like my mom and little brother wereckadaisical- they both knew me to be daddy¡¯s favorite girl, and so his death sure was a different kind of weight on my shoulders.


    For starters, mom has been too much of a nagger, before Dad died, and even worse after, Stephan on the other hand was like a better person at the ¡®moving-on¡¯ department or so it seemed to me.


    ¡°Daddy specifically told you he¡¯ll be in a better ce. At least you got a goodbye message from him, you should keep that with you.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    Others don¡¯t get as much as the remains of their loved ones¡± Stephan would tell me this, every time I threw a fit, and called for dad, throwing all of my clothes out of the window, and destroying things in the living room.


    Then afterwards, he would hug me without shedding a single tear. Sometimes, I could swear he was being a little sadistic. Only I can¡¯t say that about my handsome little brother to anyone.


    Mom on the other hand, wouldn¡¯t do as much as look on, until about a couple of dayster, and then she would nag me out of the house for the nth time, on my way to Jessie¡¯s.


    She always thought I did too much, and that I pretended to be more hurt than they were, about his death.


    So It¡¯s been prettyplicated living with those two after Daddy left us.


    Being a tough, irondy of our home, Mom thinks Dad¡¯s been too easy on me in his lifetime. She said it would be really tough for me to be a leader if I depended on affection too much, or indulge myself or hold on too much. I once told her she made no sense, but she fired back, ¡®we will see who makes sense soon enough¡¯ .


    It¡¯s not her fault that she¡¯s too much of a disciplinarian, but I like to me her for it- she didn¡¯t know her father until after my birth, and she had lived with her foster mother who was in the army, all her life. She called me ¡®spoilt¡¯ up until a couple years ago, and when my mental health began to rot away, I had to leave home, and immediately it was.


    Gerald stood by me through all those times, told me it¡¯s okay and that I was not spoilt.


    I ran to him every time tears threatened to fall down my eyes, every time I got mood swings, or my panic attacks, and he always came through, ever so sweetly, and sometimes in weird, unexpected ways.


    Jessie said he is the only person I listen to, after dad, and that¡¯s so very true. I saw a glint of my dad in him, and so I couldn¡¯t just leave abruptly. I cannot leave someone who calls me, ¡®Rissa¡¯ like my dad used to.


    Everyone called me by my full first name ¡®rissa¡¯, except for him.


    Okay, Jessie called me ¡°ssy¡± sometimes but all others, except Gerald called me rissa.


    When I rushed into the quarters after my first day at work with a shaky voice and a palpitating heart, my knees threatening to give way before I could get to my bedroom, his call came in, and we spoke throughout the night, he being my sour and listener.


    He helped me through my panic attack without being physically there, and I was surprised I could sleep like a baby that night, wake up the next day refreshed and peaceful.


    ¡°Rissa, I owe you a five-minute hug when we meet again, I promise you. I will hug your anxieties away and rock you on my solid chest, nt warm kisses on your forehead, like you deserve¡±


    ¡°Gerald¡­¡± That was the only thing I could mutter throughout the first half of our conversation as I felt my heart palpitations reducing into regr beats. He had that charm on me- making me melt without even trying.


    That night, he had especially calmed me down in a weird way- he had asked me to finger myself,  and imagine it was him doing that. I thought he was trying to make meugh, so iughed, because it was literally an hrious thing to hear- getting fingered when you could literally feel your heart dropping- but he insisted it would help me feel better.


    And I did it.


    It was not gross because I imagined it was Gerald touching me down there, and making me feel so good from inside out, although he had never actually done that .


    Well, never let him.


    But, that was enough for me. I guess it¡¯s the thought that helped.


    I could swear that, if Jessie heard about this though, she would totally gross out, clench her fists and possibly go find Gerald somewhere, and take out three or four of his teeth, give or take, five teeth.


    It will happen all in her head though, because my man is not within her reach.


    ¡°I wille and check up on you soon enough¡± Gerald had said to me before saying goodnight.


    It had felt like a dream, judging by the fact that he had been very mad at me for leaving home for New York without notifying him.


    I knew he would never let me do such a thing, and that was why I had made that decision on my own. I had left him there in California and I was regretting it now, yet, I could not go back home- to my awful past.


    I was twenty three, and that was enough age to make decisions on my own, like changing cities, renting a room in a boys¡¯ quarters, and being a secretary for one of the top Hotels &Suites, plus travels and tours business corporation in NY.

 TWO– FIRST DAY WITH MY FIRST JOB EVER

    It should not have been hard for me to pull through, but, my first day was a total trigger. Maybe it was true that I could never do something properly,  like be a secretary in a bigpany, or live alone.


    As soon as I arrived work, and my boss-Wills Taylor himself directed me to the sixth  floor, I had already begun growing apprehensive.


    I wish he had put me on the eighth floor or the fifth or third, anything but the sixth. I knew the day couldn¡¯t get any worse when i realized that the sixth floor had six rooms in total, just six.


    Thankfully, my office was the first one. That was coldfort however, because, I had to close work by 6pm every fucking day.


    Six fucking pm.


    When he showed me my office, I tucked my non-existent tummy in, and breathed out twice, the way I did when something started to get to me, and neither Gerald nor Jessie were there to calm me.


    I might just stay in until 6. 30 solely to avoid my curse guing me, or should I ask to do night shifts with the others? Anything but six 0¡ä clock. I had nothing but loneliness to look up to, back in my room anyways.


    ¡°Are you okay, rissa Bean?¡± Wills jerked me out of my reverie by tapping his pudgy fingers in the air. He had unfortunately noticed my shaky fingers drummingzily on the desk, and of course, my deflecting eyes.


    ¡°Err¡­ Yes, I am. I love this ce. Thank you for the opportunity, sir¡±


    I said, dismissing him with a strange look stered on my face.


    Only my boyfriend knew that it could only take me two minutes to hold tears back after that look.


    ¡°It¡¯s Wills here. You can be professional in our meetings and outside here¡± he deadpanned.


    ¡°Understood,  sir.. ahem.. Wills, rather¡±


    ¡°Do ring me if you need anything,  rissa Bean. My assistant will respond if I¡¯m not avable¡±


    His ent, especially his pronunciation of my name sounded, more like tasted like bile. I could literally taste my name on his lips, and honestly nothing could sound worse, I think. It didn¡¯t help that he was good to look at- I wish he would just call me, ¡°Secretary A¡± .


    Okay, he¡¯s only my manager, maybe our CEO would sound more appealing or it¡¯d be a hellhole having to hear this middle-aged, balding, ubiquitous man call my name every single day with his stupid,  slurry ent.


    I shouldn¡¯t push this, but Fuck, my nosy stalker-neigbour¡¯spany is a lot better.


    Although he¡¯s also very annoying,  always throwing me ¡°good evenings¡± from a safe distance every time I got back to the quarters, and ever since i got this apartment in NY, I¡¯d choose his presence any day, anytime to Wills Taylor¡¯s.


    Sometimes, being just nice or good-looking is not enough. You should sound nice too, ugh. That¡¯s why Gerald Hennessey is the love of my fucking life. Talk about a walking picture of perfection


    I had to release a breath after Wills Taylor finally walked out my door.


    ¡°You can do this, rissa¡± I assured myself,  making a mental note to remind myself that working on the sixth floor of a hugepany in NY did not mean I would grow tumors in my brain or lungs soon enough, although it meant that my panic attacks might quadruple.


    Just saying.


    You see, I¡¯ve not always hated the figure 6. It began after my dad¡¯s death in June, 2006.


    His doctor said that he had had six huge tumors, and since then, I¡¯d never even thought to write ¡®six¡¯ in my diary or ledger for taking notes or wherever. I¡¯d intentionally skip the figure while taking notes in our meetings.


    If we had to order six boxes of choctes or cupcakes, I¡¯d secretly add one more or one less.


    I never realized I was doing it until someone called my attention to it- that¡¯s Jessie of course, and  I disagreed with her until I had to agree, when my own actions stared me in the face one of those times, but what could i do about it?


    ¡®Six¡¯ must be so unlucky to have cornered someone like me -grieving and crazy.


    Surprisingly,  I did not break down under my desk on my first day.


    I did not even break down when at 6pm, I was catching a bus back home, and six schoolgirls pleaded that I go sit in the back, so they can be together in the front where I had chosen.


    I did not break down when the sleeping man who sat beside me in the back, had a book lyingzily on his thigh, and it was on page 6.


    Not even when my stalker-neighbour yelled, ¡°You look like hell, sissy¡± instead of ¡°Good evening ¡± over his window sill.


    I did not break down until I unlocked my bedroom door and into thefort of my duvet, my tears went.


    Before Gerald¡¯s call came in.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

 THREE– I AM SICK. HAPPY NOW?

    Days flew by, and I was starting to adapt to the environment of my workce,  and my apartment, although I could swear only my body was.


    My mind was  miles away, but I tried not to pull attention to myself at work- I really wouldn¡¯t do anything to get summoned by Wills Taylor ten times in a day. I also didn¡¯t need anyone to remind me that I had been stupid toe to New York all alone, and leave everything behind in California.


    Gerald said so, but not literally, and I had already spent four days at work, and fifteen days in New York before I started to believe his words.


    I thought I could handle it, be on my own, without the intrusion of anyone in my life, and especially without affectionate whispers of reassuring words at night, and be fine doing just that, but I must have been the dumbestedienne of the century, because Lord knows the only ce i want to be every time, is on Gerald¡¯s fucking muscr thighs on his couch in a white, royal-ish snug bungalow in California.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    It is day five and I¡¯m already so sick of it. It¡¯s telling on my body too, because my temperature is a bit too high for my liking, and I can¡¯t just get anything down my throat, even my favorite cereals jump out of my mouth immediately after I swallow it.


    I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because I have to work on the sixth floor everyday or because of the annoying stalker guy who lived next door and waved at me every single evening and called me ¡®sissy¡¯- the one whose face I haven¡¯t really seen.


    And oh my God, this guy freaking coooooooooks so nice. I know,  because aromas of his varieties fill my nostrils everytime I return from work and it only reminds me that I¡¯m starving


    I grabbed my phone which I haven¡¯t used for hours since i woke up, and i dialled Gerald¡¯s number. I know it is Saturday and he works on Saturdays too, and he must be preparing for work already, but I need to talk to him.


    Jessie¡¯s Saturdays are free, but I didn¡¯t want to bother her. She¡¯s still nostalgic about my absence and I just wanted, no, needed to sincerely apologize to everyone for abruptly leaving.


    Plus I needed some warmth only from the other gender at that moment.


    I thought he¡¯d not be able to take my call but he took it on the second ring,  and I inwardly blushed.


    ¡°Gerald¡±


    ¡°Hey love¡± His voice was very warm, and I could instantly tell that he was indoors, and not at work.


    ¡°No work today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m working afternoon shift, so I¡¯m sleeping in until then¡± I thought I heard another voice in the background that was not his, but then as if he heard my thoughts, he said it was the radio transistor.


    ¡°Are you okay though? You never call me at 6am in the morning ¡± He drawled, consciously walking away from his present environment. I could follow his every move just by shutting my eyes for a second.


    I know he¡¯s d in his pinkish towel again, and his chest is bare. I will never argue with him about his choice of colour, because thest time I did, he had promised me that he wasn¡¯t gay by rubbing his boner on my butt a little too roughly. His curly brown bangs must be covering his ashen eyes a little bit too.


    I blushed at the feeling.


    Not everyone can imagine what their boyfriend looks like at the moment just by shutting their eyes.


    ¡°I think I caught the bug, I can¡¯t get anything down my throat too¡± I said softly, a little offended by the fact that he did not notice it in my voice.


    ¡± I bet my dick can beat that notion anyways¡± I heard himugh and I just wanted to p him over the phone. He always makes jokes like this, forgetting I¡¯ve never had sex in my entire life.


    ¡°Gerald, I¡¯m fucking serious. I¡¯m sick¡±


    ¡°Sorry, you¡¯re just nostalgic is all. Got any drugs?¡± I didn¡¯t reply that question because I heard someone call his name just then. A soft, distant and sleepy feminine voice


    ¡°Do you have someone over?¡±


    ¡°No, actually¡­ I crashed at Monica¡¯s. My ce was packed with my drunk friends, we really had a lot of boozest night, our bad¡± I can almost smell his lies. I know that he was never drunkst night but I can¡¯t confront him because I have no evidence.


    ¡°I told you to not drink so much. Makes you look so irresponsible¡±


    ¡°Sorry, love. I¡¯ll make it up to you when I see you. Besides, it was just a bottle of Hennessey. A small bottle¡± The urge to hang up on him and call Monica immediately was so strong I had to quickly deflect our conversation.


    It would possibly be the weirdest thing in the century to ask a girl at 6am if her twenty-six-year old brother really did crash at her ce the previous night. Okay, not the weirdest, but it¡¯s really hard for me to do.


    ¡°Pinkie promise, no more impulsive drinking¡± he pushed, sshing water on his face. He must have plugged his earphones right now because i could see him putting his two hands on his face just by shutting my eyes.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay.¡± I clipped, trying hard to think of another topic without abruptly cutting him off.


    ¡°How is work? I know I¡¯ve asked before, but do you like your new ce?¡± Goodness gracious,  he did it first. He must have noticed my difort or so it seemed.  I was he grateful for it anyways, and as long as i did not hear that feminine voice one more time, I could talk to him all day.


    ¡°Yeah, that. There¡¯s one thing I need to report to you, candy¡±


    ¡°I think it must be really interesting seeing that you just called me by my favorite pet name¡± he giggled again, and I swear i could kill to have hisugh kept away in a museum for future references.


    ¡°Duhh, candy is cheap though¡± I giggled. You can¡¯t me me- every sound from his mouth is infectious.


    ¡°But it is sweet. What is that one thing, my Rissa? Don¡¯t stray off yet¡± Again with the Rissa thing.


    ¡°There¡¯s this guy next door, he kind of looks queer. You won¡¯t believe this guy wees me every time I get back from work like I¡¯m hisndy, he always appears at odd times, mentions some things about me that i obviously didn¡¯t tell him. He kind of scares me¡±


    ¡°Are you sure he doesn¡¯t know you before now?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. He lives here. This is the first time I¡¯m meeting him, and all I want to do is move out already. He¡¯s more like a jobless stalker if you ask me¡± I confessed. Maybe I really needed to tell someone about my neighbour.


    ¡°Maybe i need toe down there and straighten his head with a few punches¡± he said, sounding dead serious. His words sent chills to my bile and made me want to throw up my small intestines.


    I looked down at my goosebumps as they sessfully reminded me of the first and second and third times Gerald had hit me like that, and made me promise not to tell anyone.


    ¡°No no no, Gerald, it¡¯s okay. He doesn¡¯t trouble me¡± I deadpanned. ¡°He just happens to know a few things, that¡¯s all¡±


    ¡°What does he look like?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know because I never meet his eyes but I can swear he¡¯s a lot taller than you are, plus he¡¯s more annoying too¡± I said, trying hard to hide whatever it was I was feeling at that moment.


    ¡°Should I blush or cry?¡± He was back in his room now, lying on his bed, and someone else was going out and shutting the door behind them. He¡¯s signalling to them to be quiet because he¡¯s on a call. I could hear everything even though he¡¯s not loud, and i was not there.


    Only Jessie knew about this ability of mine, and only her knew it worked only with my boyfriend.


    ¡°Does he do anything weird?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, like waving at me and leaving random notes in my doorknob. That¡¯s all¡±


    ¡°What do those notes say?¡± Gerald was unplugging his earphones now, and texting the girl in the bathroom. I didn¡¯t know what he¡¯s saying but he¡¯s probably asking her toe back into the room because he¡¯s about to hang up with me. I wish he would just stop interviewing me about this new guy. Maybe i should not have told him


    Now he would have reasons to visit me at will or consider moving permanently to Manhattan with me if only his whores would let him.


    ¡± You weren¡¯t outst weekend, are you okay? And ¡®I bet you have not made any friends in the neighbourhood yet? I see you are new here¡¯. Who hits on a total stranger like that? Nothing scary, but it¡¯s still scary.¡± I responded


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the guy. If he poses a threat, please call the emergency ¡±


    ¡°Sure¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you after work tonight,  love. Don¡¯t forget your medicine, I don¡¯t want you to have shrunk when I see you¡± he said, matter-of-factly as if he¡¯d leave me if I lost any weight.


    ¡°Okay Gerald. Bye then. Have a nice day at work ¡± I retorted, hanging up first. I had to text Jessie for movie rmendations to distract myself after, or I¡¯d be calling Monica the next minute.


    I made a mental note to also visit the pharmacyter in the afternoon.

 FOUR– STALKER IN MY ROOM

    Rooney¡¯s POV


    Rooney Wayne looked up when the gym clothes he ced on the counter fell straight into his washing machine.


    ¡°That¡¯s a smart move, dude ¡± he chuckled, adjusting them and pouring detergent into the fabric with a smirk on his lips.


    It was a warm day, and he had just gotten warmer from all the press-ups he did that morning. Music and breakfast was the next thing on his agenda after his cool bath, and so he still had his earphones in. Music and breakfast was like ¡®bread and jam¡¯ in his case.


    Walking towards the kitchen in long strides, and dressed in a pair of track shorts and a fitted vest, he hummed to himself the lyrics of It¡¯s a Sunny Day by Nicole Mckinney. His kitchen was almost empty. Only thing he could manage to prepare was pancakes. He got out everything he would need for the cooking,  and then went back to his room in quick steps as if he left something.


    The sun¡¯s rays was starting to seep in through his plush yellow curtains, and the only thing he could think of, was if his female  neighbour next door had shopped for curtains yet, or if she had breakfast yet.


    He had seen her the previous night, and she hadn¡¯t looked too good. His phone beeped before he could decide what to do with his thoughts, but he ignored it. It was his associate, and business was thest thing he wanted to talk about now.


    ¡°I should see if she¡¯s fine at least. She has no one to talk to ¡± he soliloquized, not realizing he had mistakenly picked the call.


    ¡°You should, if it bothers you this much¡± the voice at the end reminded him he was not alone in the room even if the other person was not physically present.


    ¡°What is it, Cole? It¡¯s too early for a call, I¡¯m not your girlfriend. ¡±


    ¡°Rx,  man. It¡¯s good news. We got the contract. We fucking got it!¡± Rooney unplugged his earphones quickly because the man was yelling.


    ¡°Okay,  you could have presented that better, I almost lost my hearing ¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because i¡¯m happy. We should celebrate. Let¡¯s see, a drinking spree tonight at your ce, with the boys?¡±


    ¡°No, hell no. No drinking at my ce¡±


    ¡°At my ce then or Wills¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Text me the address after you decide. Bye for now, buddy ¡± he said, hanging up first. He was going to check on his neighbour.


    ¡­¡­.


    I was not expecting anybody since I know nobody in New York , so I was a little jittery when my doorbell rang.


    I also grabbed my phone immediately because Gerald said to dial 911 if I sense anything fishy. The quarters is mostly always quiet- I¡¯m usually alone in the whole of the building, like now.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± I whispered, instinctively grabbing a fish pole in a corner of my room.


    ¡°Anyone home?¡±


    ¡°I said who the hell is it? Stop ringing my doorbell too much, I¡¯ve got an headache!¡±


    By this time, I already saw him in the window and I didn¡¯t care that I was yelling. He seemed to enjoy making me jump.


    ¡°Sissy, it¡¯s me¡± For the first time since he had been talking to me, i felt his voice in my stomach, it went through my ears, scrunched into my heart and dropped in my stomach. It was masculine, very serene and intimidating at the same time.


    I had to give that to him- he¡¯s got a sexy voice. No, I shouldn¡¯t use sexy for a stranger. Maybe nice. Very nice.


    ¡°Can Ie in?¡± I slowly opened my door and was met by a pair of inviting turquoise eyes. ¡°Sure¡± I found myself saying, letting him in. I should send him away but I did not.


    He smelt so good like mint and strawberry dipped in chocte and something else I can¡¯t ce my hand on. It should be a crime to smell that good, for real. I wanted that smell to linger in my room a while longer.


    No of course, it had nothing to do with him. I¡¯ve met with many attractive men and this one with me was attractive without trying, but it¡¯s none of my business. I just appreciate nice smells is all. He smells like my boyfriend too.


    ¡°Are you okay, sissy?¡± I don¡¯t know why he asked but I was angry at that question


    ¡°rissa¡±  I clipped, trying not to yell.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°rissa is my name, don¡¯t sissy me!¡± For a girl in such vulnerable circumstance,  I must have been a little too overbearing to this tallllll, sweet-smelling stranger in my room.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    But I was not in the least bothered. I was a little sure he could never hurt me and I had no idea where the confidence came from.


    ¡°Oh, -rissa, I¡¯m Rooney, nice to meet you¡±. I was too pleased to hear that he called my name so perfectly well that I didn¡¯t realize I was grinning. That must have made him a little ufortable because he started to look nervous.


    ¡°I was worried. About you. You have not been out of your room since you returned from workst evening. I personally think you work too much¡± I thought of the best way to respond when he added, ¡°You¡¯re my newest neighbour and I should care ¡°. Dammit, he really had to say that.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m a little indisposed. No appetite and high fever too¡± I responded, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°I figured¡±


    I badly needed someone to get me some medicine because I was too overwhelmed emotionally to go out yet. The voice of Gerald¡¯s whore would not leave my head even with the movie and cereals. As silently as i could, I muttered the question that¡¯s been on my mind since I realized he was my neighbour  ¡°Are you stalking me?¡±


    ¡°Had any breakfast yet?¡± He responded like he didn¡¯t hear my question, or perhaps he chose to ignore me. He must not have heard bexcuse I barely heard myself too.


    ¡°Huh? Have you eaten?¡±


    I pointed to the cereals on my thighs and heughed. Fuck, he couldpete with Gerald for real.


    ¡°You need real food, rissa.  Real food. I¡¯ll be right back, okay?¡± He then dashed out of my room in a jiffy. I almost asked him how he knew my name, then I remembered I told him a few minutes ago. I really should shut this guy out before he started to pose threats on my life. That¡¯s far from what I needed at that point in my life.


    For some reason, he felt familiar, the way he chatted with me like an old friend, or maybe he was just like that- carefree and friendly. Not just familiar. He felt danger too.


    When he returned fifteen minutes after, with a te of chicken sd, chopped lettuce, mayonnaise and peas mixed with diced tomatoes, plus some tablets in a customized nylon, I temporarily stopped regrettinging to New York.


    I almost bowed down to him in adoration.


    No, I actually did bow.


    ¡°Thank you, I appreciate this¡±


    Heughed because I bowed, and then he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t buy you a drink¡±. I simply nodded and took out my apple drink from my drawer. Wills Taylor¡¯s meetings definitely served the best apple drinks in the whole wide world.


    ¡°I promise it will be jambya next time¡±


    I cut my eyes to him and opened my mouth wide because he caught me off guard. How did he know I liked jambya?


    ¡°With lots of chicken, yes¡± he said, tapping his forehead as though he were wracking his brain for something .


    ¡°So, rissa, how have you been coping with everything?¡±


    ¡°Can you not be here in the next second?¡± I deadpanned ,  and he red at me, his eyes holding a resolve to remain in my house or I do my worst.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I want to enjoy my meal¡± I said, hoping he would take the hint and go out. Surprisingly,  it worked, because he walked out after giving me a wry smile.


    But he had only walked as far as behind my door. I didn¡¯t know, so I began to eat, and oh my, was the food so tasty.


    ¡°Is it going well for you here?¡± He whispered from my window, his voice sending chills down to the pit of my stomach.


    ¡°Quite well. I¡¯m enjoying every thing, I swear¡± I said, drinking and munching like a voracious bitch.


    Heughed again, and said, ¡°You know what I meant, but your sense of humour is top-notch ¡±


    ¡°You meant everything, like working and returning home?  Fine, i guess¡± I sighed, biting into my chicken sd which tasted like heaven. I don¡¯t know what i was doing really.


    ¡°Do you ever get calls from home?¡± He mumbled,  waltzing in at the same time, and I could do anything to save myself from that embarrassment.  Whether it was the oily bits of chicken on my cheeks or the offensive question he asked, I did not know. All I knew was, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.


    when he asked that obviously offensive question, I stopped eating and faced him intently, and could not look away because I was flushed.


    I wanted to send him out of my room but his face was too friendly,  too perfect to be stained by my aggression.


    How could he destroy our chat with that annoying question?


    ¡°Why are you asking? You know nothing about my family¡±


    ¡± I just want to be friends with you, and friends talk about families and work¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be your friend¡± my voice was back to being curt. ¡± I don¡¯t know you, Randy¡±


    ¡°Rooney¡± he corrected and I scoffed. He¡¯s just too annoying.


    ¡°So it¡¯s Rooney like I said¡± he reiterated


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, I¡¯m not deaf, and I still don¡¯t know any ROO-NEY.. Sounds like an ass-licking character from a movie with no sales¡± I mocked.


    ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re eating my homemade meal without knowing me though. It¡¯s a honour¡± he said, deliberately ignoring my words, and looking painfully serious.


    I had to stop eating already. For real, what was I doing?


    I literally didn¡¯t care. This man can cooook. Was he a chef or something?


    ¡°What do you want, stranger?¡± I stood up, facing him. ¡°My mood is ruined as it is, I don¡¯t want anyone making it worse¡± It was a lie- I couldn¡¯t wait to get back to my mouthwateringly blissful chicken sd.


    He stood up too and I had to take a step back because his height was intimidating.  ¡°To bring your appetite back. That¡¯s what i want¡± he simply stated, matter-of-factly with a smirk on his lips.


    ¡°Fine, you failed ¡± I objectively announced. ¡± Go away please¡±


    ¡°No,  i didn¡¯t fail, but I will just get out anyways. Don¡¯t forget to swallow the pills too. I guess nothing helps a woman when they¡¯re PMSing¡± he said and hurriedly walked out before i could react to hisst statement. Who told him I was on my period?


    ¡°Please don¡¯te here ever again or I¡¯ll call the police!¡± I yelled after him


    This guy was really going to either make me regret my renting a space here or make me call 911 first.

 FIVE– PMSing

    The Monday after, when mom¡¯s call woke me up before my rm clock did,  was the beginning of yet another bad day for me in New York.


    It was almost 7am and I really should have been anywhere else but my bed if I was to be fair. My fever was already gone, and my appetite was starting to return anyways, thanks to my annoying next-door neighbour, but that morning, my stomach was really killing me.


    At times like this, I wish I had a car. I could have hired a driver so I could bury myself in the backseat to gain some momentum before reaching my workce. Maybe i should really save up to buy one, or ask Gerald to give me some money because my nagging mom won¡¯t ever. Except in my dreams.


    Yeah, before I forget, it was her call which woke me up on the first day of my second week at work. And she was yelling as usual


    ¡°You never think to call your brother and I. Is that how easily you can throw us away?¡± Those were her first words to me. First words since I reached New York three weeks (or so) ago.


    ¡°Mom, I literally am just opening my eyes today¡± I whined, yawning.  ¡°I¡¯m still sleepy¡±


    ¡°What has that got to do with what i said? You don¡¯t care about us, and that¡¯s not okay. What if I had died or Stephan started doing drugs?¡± She sounded too serious for a joke.


    ¡°At least that didn¡¯t happen,  and it hopefully never will. How are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m at the ce you left me and your brother, rissa. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be on your way to work?¡±


    ¡°Of course¡± i heard her scoff, and I just dropped my phone on the bed and dashed towards my bathroom.


    She would begin her nagging soon, mainly rambling about how I¡¯m being a heavy sleeper, even if I had only had a few hours of sleep, and I was not ready for that conversation ¨C would never be.


    In the bathroom, I could hear her talking to herself despite blocking my ears with my towel, and I wished I had not left my phone on loudspeaker.  She would have to hang up soon enough when she did not hear me anymore, and i hoped so, or I really would be out of the bathroom butt-naked in the next minute,  to m my phone on the floor.


    I hate this. I fucking hate everything.


    When I got out of the bathroom more edgy than I already was,  and heard her on the phone still talking about me  being too cowardly, I yelled at her just then, and threatened to hang up if she wouldn¡¯t stop saying such insensitive things.


    ¡°I really can¡¯t do this right now, Mom. I need to go to work coolheaded. Please¡± I begged, more like cried, because my eyes were starting to water. I need Gerald¡¯s affectionate hugs right now.


    ¡°You don¡¯t ever listen to me, rissa. I know I¡¯ve not been a bad mother but you always make me look like one¡± Yeah, that was it- her usual emotional ckmail,  always talking me into apologizing to her.


    And so I did the one thing I had never done or thought to do in my life- I hanged up on my mother¡¯s voice. And I was never going to call her like she wanted, until she came to terms with her toxic attitude.


    I know Jessie¡¯s mother, Mrs Hill and their rtionship is more like a sisterly one. They talk to each other like sisters, and spend time eating and talking about everything.  My own mother only knew how to nag and remind me of my lovely father¡¯s demise.


    I waited to see if Mrs Chloe Bean would call back and i felt a little guilty when she didn¡¯t, even after five minutes.


    Then, I knelt by my bedside and let the tears out. I didn¡¯t care that I was loud. I just needed the world to know that I was tired.


    Tired of trying to admit that Dr Thomas Bean is no more, and that I¡¯m no longer the little girl I was, and that nothing is going the right way in my life and I might also lose Gerald because I was getting tired. And I¡¯ll be all alone and miserable because my mood swings and panic attacks might chase Jessie away.


    As if the universe reminded me that I was not alone, I felt some warmth trickling down into my pants. My period is here.


    Even though it¡¯s kind of going to make me crankier , I felt not so alone with its arrival. I know that¡¯s freaking weird, but it is what it is.


    I don¡¯t want to bete for work but I need pads.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    I barely had anything in this house. Almost no girl things. Just emptiness. I wrap my bedclothes around me and hop out into my balcony quickly.


    I was going to see if my annoying neighbour was around and if it was not too much, could he get me some pads?


    He had been right- I was PMSing.


    ¡­.

 SIX– OUR POVs

    Rooney¡¯s POV


    ¡°I have not been out of my apartment in two days not because I don¡¯t want to work, but because I think I should be more of a psychologist than a CEO right now. Thedy next door, Vanessa,  no, .. something.. rissa, yeah, should be rissa.  She looked like she needed some talk plus a long understanding hug. But she thinks I¡¯m a stalker or a bad guy. I wonder how much men must have hurt her , for her to think everyone else has a bad motive, just because they were being kind.


    Maybe I stalk her, yes, but she has to know that I¡¯m not close to being a bad guy. I stalk her because i¡¯m curious about her. She moved here about three weeks ago and she seems to not be able to settle down. She has no curtains, and no rug in her living room.


    She doesn¡¯t cook too. I see her with her bag of cereals all the time, and I¡¯ve offered her food in thest couple of days. She did not refuse any, so I know she really needed it.


    I rarely see her call anyone, and i thought maybe she had no one. Or maybe I¡¯m just delusional,  but she looked pretty vulnerable every time I saw her.


    I see it in her eyes. Greenish little cute things. I can tell the nature of what¡¯s running through her mind just by peering into those eyes.


    She¡¯s very pretty with long ck, wavy hair, green eyes, plus average height and weight i must confess, because that was so hard not to notice when she stared at me the other day and told me she didn¡¯t want to be my friend.


    I heard the hurt in her voice. I¡¯m a psychologist, so I know she has something bothering her . It¡¯s not really a job of mine, but it was my minor discipline in College.


    It even feels like she ran away from home.  I¡¯m sure she has no one in New York and she¡¯s just masking her emotions. rissa. rissa is her name, yeah, I should remember that. ¡±


    Rooney Wayne stopped typing on hisptop when he heard a big bang on his door. It was unusual.  No one ever knocked, especially not at fifteen minutes past 7 in the morning. He had to save the file and shut down quickly before dashing towards his front door.


    It was Monday and being a early sleeper, he was already preparing for the gym. Work would have to happen in the afternoon.


    The person who greeted him at his front door was thest person he was expecting at that moment, and especially not in the state she was. She looked very clean except for the bedclothes wrapped around her body, and her lips seemed to be moving a tad too strangely.


    ¡­..


    CLARISSA¡¯S POV


    ¡°Err good morning, stranger¡± i ruffled my smooth, wavy hair and stared at everything but his eyes. She seemed to be observing my biceps. His eyes said, and that was so very true.


    He looked at me from head to toe as if expecting me to say what I wanted or fuck off. I scratched my head, struggling to put my request into words- he was sometimes too intimidating for my liking .


    ¡°Are you okay? Do you need something?¡± He suddenly said, his voice not sounding as intimidating as he seemed.


    I met his eyes that moment and they were darting around my body, like he badly wanted to yank off my bedclothes, so that he¡¯d see what kinda dress I had underneath.


    All of a sudden,  i shut my eyes because I didn¡¯t know how to look him in the eye yet, and then yelled ¡°Pads! I need pads. Sanitary pads ¡­ umm.. yeah. I¡­ I don¡¯t know where the pharmacy is. Please¡±


    Rooney stood there, looking too bewildered to respond.


    His inviting turquoise eyes looked a little toorge in their sockets, and I immediately realized my folly.  How could this woman be asking him for pads? He must think I was insane like I was not already embarrassed asking a stranger- a tall-ass, intimidating man in particr- for sanitary pads.


    Especially after asking him to not talk to me ever again a couple of days before.


    ¡°Sorry¡­ I .. meant pans¡­ I¡¯ll need pans for my fryingter tonight if you will lend me some. You see¡­ I love frying a lot of err¡­ eggs, meat, everything. Really. Really. Yeah.¡± i stuttered, scurrying away immediately but not without listening to a deep croakyughter escape his mouth, as he watched me leave, and he could not stopughing even when i got in, and ran out almost immediately towards the street.


    I must have sounded really crazy. I, rissa must be too much character for him to take in.


    I wanted to turn back and tell him nothing was funny but my voice started to break just then.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    He must surely see me as some immature adult. Or a lonely round-butt pig.


    I decided to run towards the street to find pads. I was only going to spend five minutes, nothing more, I promised myself, but I couldn¡¯t go. My cramps was literally killing me.


    When he turned to go back in, but caught a glimpse of me rushing into my apartment again, I knew he woulde calling for me. He was kind like that.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m just a littlete for work, and I¡¯m trying to get ready, is all.¡± I whispered when he stood at the door, watching me pretend to have it all together.


    ¡°You have another dress on¡± Rooney said, matter-of-factly. ¡°And you¡¯ve been weird this morning, talking about pans and frying, and running around the building


    I waited to know if he acknowledged my request the other time because I really wasn¡¯t going to repeat it.


    I might just call Will and ask him to spare me today if he will let me, and I¡¯ll stay in, crying myself to calm


    ¡°Please hold on a few minutes, i¡¯ll be right back. You must really need PADS¡± He uttered, emphasising the ¡®pads¡¯ as if he was trying to deliberately rile me up.


    A satisfied smile yed on my lips when he said that, because twenty minutes and a few crampy disyster, I was on the road to Greens Hotels and Suites,  and in my annoying neighbour¡¯s car.

 SEVEN–RUNNING TO FIND MY FEET

    That week was literally smooth for me, even though it started with awful cramps andteness.


    More work too. But it¡¯s lovely because at least i had no single panic attacks, and I was mostly active at work without thinking about home or myte dad or Gerald¡¯s whore and every other thing that triggered my anxiety, and also because no one reminded me of the figure that I dreaded the most .


    Work was more hectic too, but it was good, because it kept my mind upied.


    On that day I got a free ride to work in my neighbour¡¯s car, Will Taylor surprisingly did not yell at me or ask me why I waste,  I will never know if he was usually like that with others though, because I¡¯ve never beente until that Monday.


    He simply asked me to not do it again or I¡¯ll be fired.  He said it in the most serious tone he could muster, but it came out funny. You know when you¡¯re trying to threaten someone but you sound so weak or cowardly it doesn¡¯t even hit a nerve?


    It looked to me that he was delivering an information on behalf of someone, and that¡¯s why it makes me wonder what Rooney had told him.


    Will did not call my name or summon me for the whole week, and he barely responded when I greeted him. Instead, he gave me more work to do, through his assistant. Or maybe we just had too many customers lodging in for the week.


    When I asked Rooney what he told my boss, he said ¡®I simply asked him how it would feel if his pregnant wife came to work fifteen minuteste, and she returns home with a swollen face because her boss beat her up¡¯. He left me there, unsure of how to respond because I did not understand him, but now that I think of it, i should have been worried or upset or both.


    I should have told him point-nk that he needn¡¯t have meddled in my business and work environment.


    That I didn¡¯t need that kind of care from him. Not from anyone even.


    We were just neighbours and neighbours don¡¯t go around putting each other in trouble.


    And so as soon as Friday came, I was so happy because i didn¡¯t have to work in the weekend, didn¡¯t have to think about work for a whole day or two.


    I didnt know what I was going to be doing for those couple of days though. Maybe i should just call Jessie and talk  to her about everything. No, not everything.  Only happy things.


    I missed her too much, and if i let myself dwell on the nostalgia,  I might consider booking a flight to California the next weekend.


    Maybe I should video-call Gerald instead. I should, but ourst conversation is still ying in my head. The soft, feminine sound in the background i mean. It must have been Monica, except I don¡¯t think so.


    He¡¯s not thought to call me again since then. Didn¡¯t text me either. I wonder if that¡¯s how busy he was. I knew he was studying but Gerald is literally someone to visit you at 9. 30am when he had a flight to catch at 10.


    I was unlocking my front door that evening when my phone rang again. I checked the space in my doorknob for any notes from my neighbour but there weren¡¯t any.


    I looked around and willed him to say ¡®good evening,  sissy. How was work?¡¯ like he usually did,  but I did not see him. He must not be back yet, possibly is too busy at work or something. He couldn¡¯t possibly be mad at me or did i do anything?  I thought.


    ¡°Hey¡± I whispered casually, struggling to unlock my door with one hand. It was my boyfriend.  As if he knew that I was just thinking about him not calling me in a while.


    ¡°You home?¡±


    ¡°Just arrived. The door won¡¯t budge¡± i gritted, shutting my eyes. ¡°I need to change my lock¡±


    ¡°Kick it open¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t have any sry to pay for damages yet¡± I heaved a sigh of relief when it finally opened.


    ¡°Like you would want to use your first sry for damages¡± heughed, and Iughed too, my mind traveling miles away, into thergest couch in his lounge, in California.


    He was sitting there, fully dressed like he just returned from work and was rxing. He¡¯s always a pleasing sight to behold even when he¡¯s exhausted and I can see dark circles underneath his ashen eyes. They fade away quickly when he drinks this particr tea, I can¡¯t remember its name- I will have to ask him for the umpteenth time. He¡¯s drinking the tea in a white mug right now. I can see him until I open my eyes again.


    Struggling out of my slightly tight work  clothes, I listened to Gerald ramble on about how his week went.


    He was part-time podcasting and telecasting for a mediapany in California but he mostly focused on studying for his airline exams.


    He¡¯s always been crazy about being a pilot and I didn¡¯t have a problem with it. ¡°Are you listening to me, Rissa?¡± He whispered and i sighed, finally pulling off my pants.


    I had been listening. Just wasn¡¯t responding


    ¡°Are those the pants I got you?¡± His question got meughing out loud. He must have heard my heavy breaths.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    ¡°Yeah. They seem to be tighter around my hips now. I don¡¯t know how i managed to put on a few pounds¡± iughed.


    Must be my neighbour¡¯s frequent homemade meals. Or just an oue of stress.


    ¡°That butt must be popping like ever before now, how does it always look so very round and thick, like a pumpkin?¡± He began, as if talking about butts was on his everyday to-do list.


    ¡°Gerald, shut up, what the fuck¡± I yelled, my body shaking with uncontroble giggles


    ¡°Makes me wonder why you left abruptly. I can¡¯t even hold you these days, Rissa. I can¡¯t even..¡± he started to sound serious


    ¡°Gerald.. don¡¯t, please¡± i cut in, myughter disappearing from my lips. He really didn¡¯t need to start.


    ¡°You have everything here¡±, He continued, ¡°Your family, your friends and me. I still don¡¯t know why you left. Just like that.¡± he suddenly stopped, and I pinched the space between my eyebrows,  tucked my tummy in, and breathed out, twice.


    ¡°Gerald, is this why you called me?¡±


    ¡°No.. I¡¯m just curious. Why did you leave, Rissa? You told me I make you happy¡± His voice bore sentiments. Too emotion-stricken for my liking.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m dead or something. I¡¯m only miles away, Gerald, and I¡¯m really not ready to talk about this right now¡±, I paused to stabilise my voice. ¡°Please¡±


    Even though he had been understanding enough, i couldn¡¯t help feeling guilty about everything.


    ¡°Okay. What¡¯s for supper? Your favourite jambya?¡± I almost mouthed a thank-you when he distracted me with the question.


    ¡°Not tonight. Toast bread maybe¡± I giggled again, a tear managing to roll down my eye. ¡°What about you, candy?¡±


    ¡°Thoughts of you¡± he simply said and I blushed.


    I wonder how much longer I could hold on without the people in my life. I always thought i was doing fine until I hear from them, and then, i realize how much I miss them and want to be with them again.


    I really should go back but it felt like something was holding me back. Certainly not my job. I enjoyed my work but I could give it up for Gerald, and Jessie if need be.


    But I am not on my way to California already.


    Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I really can¡¯t do anything right like mom said. I should prove her wrong that I am not holding on too much, that I didn¡¯t always need people, and that even without dad, and with my trauma, I can live well.


    And that I can achieve big things on my own. I still didn¡¯t know how to though- I¡¯ve failed in the two fields I thought i had passion for.


    The only way to find out how, is staying back in New York and finding myself.


    And that will be my push.


    I¡¯ll have to find a way around the consequencester.

 EIGHT– PANIC OR DON’T PANIC?

    A panic attack is a sudden period of intense anxiety, mounting physiological arousal, fear, stomach problems and difort that are associated with a variety of somatic and cognitive symptomsN?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the conversation between Gerald and I even after a few hours.


    He had asked me why I left everything behind, and I had not been able to provide an answer, because even I don¡¯t really know.


    I was tempted to call him back but I decided to text instead ¡®Gerald, I¡¯ming home, say next week or next month. Please don¡¯t go back to your whore yet, don¡¯t every try to break up with me too, or you¡¯re going to be killing dad twice. Please wait for me while I find my way back. I¡¯m reallying back soon. I miss you just as much, I promise¡±  but I could not hit the send button.


    All of a sudden, I began to think about what would happen to me if Gerald told me he could no longer cope with our long-distance rtionship, and that we should call it quits.


    Would I go back home or let him break up with me?


    I didn¡¯t realize how much I had been thinking about this until my eyes strayed towards the clock.


    It was already 10:30 and I did not even have lunch. I got up, and slipped into a pair of baggy pants and my tank top anf went out into my balcony.


    There was still no notes in my doorknob, no sight of my annoying neighbour either.


    His front door was still locked, with no lights in his windows, and I didn¡¯t have his mobile number.  His car was not outside too.


    I knew almost nothing about him.


    For some reason, my palms started to water and I couldn¡¯t breathe. I managed to walk into my kitchen to get some water but it did not help. Good Lord, no. NOT NOW, PLEASE .


    My heart was racing, and it was as if my brain and my heart were arguing about whether to panic or not, whether to be still or not.


    I was already totally drained before the could reach for more water,  so i grabbed my table for support. I tried to calm myself but I started to cry instead and it grew worse.


    My mother¡¯s words began to ring in my ears and tears rushed down my panic-stricken eyes. you can¡¯t do anything right. You are too clingy, always needing someone for every chore. That¡¯s too bad.


    You are a needy brat. Needy. Needy. Needy.


    Damning mom¡¯s belligerent voice in my head, I rushed back into my room and dialed Jessie¡¯s number without thinking twice.


    She was used to this. Sometimes, it felt like she knew me more than i knew myself. She always knew what to do to make me rx.


    I called her line but everything went into voicemail. I called the fifth time before dropping my phone on the bed, trying my best to rub away the tightness in my chest. Gratefulness washed through me when she called back three minutester.


    ¡°ssy! What happened? I left my phone with Brad¡±


    ¡°Je.. Jess¡± that was all i could manage,  and all she needed to figure out my predicament


    ¡°Okay, Rx, don¡¯t panic. All you need do is think of that pool where we used to y when we were eleven.


    Remember the ambience? How you talked about the water being naturally too perfect- not hot, not too cold, huh? Imagine me nudging you toe with me to swim in it because we want to have a bath and have fun now. Do you feel better?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡± I broke out of my episode faster than before. Magically.


    ¡°That¡¯s good. How about we stay up tonight talking about how Brad wore my yellow floral dress, and my wig to our family dinnerst week?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t helpughing. I didn¡¯t know if it was true that her fianc¨¦ really did appear at their dinner in her dress and wig, or it was just Jessie¡¯s way of calming me, but it made me have something to look up to for the weekend,  and temporarily forget about the hunger in my stomach and the temporary disappearance of my kind neighbour.


    ¡°I like that. I¡¯ll be waiting for your call or text¡±


    ¡°Not until you eat supper, ssy. Promise me you¡¯ll text me only after you eat something ¡± she said


    ¡°I promise¡± I surrendered


    ¡°That¡¯s my best friend¡± she said, hanging up.


    I guess I¡¯m not the only one feeling a connection with a loved one.

 NINE–TORN

    ¡­.


    (Baton Rouge is the capital of Louisiana,  a state in the United States of America)


    Rooney sat at his wheel, in the middle of nowhere- Baton Rouge actually- wishing the earth would just swallow him and his car whole, leaving no traces of his existence. It was 11pm and not so safe out there, but he was too bothered to care.


    For some reason, he wondered what would have happened if he didn¡¯t go home to check on her.


    She¡¯d probably be dead by now.


    No, Lord, no. God forbid


    He would never have forgiven himself if he did not act on that call.


    Lucy Wayne, his mother was his only family, as far as he was concerned. And whatever he could do,  he would,  to keep her.


    Rooney had no idea why she would keep ming herself for her husband¡¯s death, and why she never shared the story with him or anyone else. It was very painful to watch his mother in that state; she looked like a statue- lifeless, stiff, unmoving, alive but dead inside.


    He had been a directionless teenager when his workaholic father died, and both he, and his older brother, Sydney had no idea how he died. All they knew was that his dead body was found somewhere in the woods,  and that their mother did not attend his burial.


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll never know why. I don¡¯t know why mom wants to carry the secret  to the grave. It must be really bad. I just wish I knew somehow,  I just wish he never died. Then, she¡¯ll not be this miserable. Sydney would not have left too ¡± he soliloquized,  watching the night darken.


    His brother had been in and out of home, and then he finally left when he turned twenty, and never got in touch since. His mom, Lucy, started doing drugs after Rooney left too. He regretted leaving her but he could never go back. He was torn between keeping a grudge with her and loving her. Everyone imed she killed their father and she epted their usation without any exnation.


    It was hard not to hate her or avoid her at least, because she refused every help anyone rendered, and because her silence split their whole family.


    It was like she wanted to die or she¡¯d never stop feeling guilty about her husband¡¯s death. ¡°A lost cause . A fucking lost cause¡± Rooney spat


    She was a liability now that she began doing drugs and getting into trouble everywhere. It didn¡¯t help that her two sons tried their possible best to save her.


    Everytime Rooney or Sydney asked her to tell them the whole story,  she would bypass the request. Rooney particrly put her in therapy but she ran away from home after three months of therapy, returning as a drug addict.


    He had to leave Louisiana to start a new life and manage his father¡¯s business , so as to get over everything and also since Sydney didn¡¯t seem to be interested. He had particrly threatened his mother that he¡¯d leave just as Sydney left, if she did not open up to him, because he was tired of living with her like that.


    She had remained totally unyielding and so he left to manage his father¡¯s business in New York, but he had always been worried about her. The sudden buzz from his phone jerked him back to reality. It was Cole


    ¡°She okay now?¡± He demanded. He¡¯d been following him up since he got there. ¡°She¡¯s calm¡± he simply responded


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you have to go through all these. I hope shees out of it sooner¡±


    ¡°Do you think I should plead with her to talk to me? Do you think I should try once more before going back to New York?¡±


    ¡°I will advise you stay with her some more. Make her feelfortable and try talking her out of running away again¡±Rooney simply hanged up, nodding to himself.


    He had to stay back and see that she was fine enough to no run away from home by the time he would leave.


    And so Rooney began to drive ever so slowly down the road th. at led to his mother¡¯s.  Returning home suddenly felt strange for him especially as home didn¡¯t look anything like home, at least not anymore. The paints on the walls of the blue duplex had peeled off a long time ago, and if Rooney had been Rooney, he would have hired a painter for a total refurbishing, but who needed the house anyway? It was near empty  already except that their mother still lived there.


    Thinking about it, he thought her living there alone hadn¡¯t been a good idea in the first ce, but, he had no better option in mind- she insisted she would stay back to at least smell his clothes, and hisboratory tools- the ones she refused to throw away even after nine years.


    ¡°Mom¡± he called, before even alighting. Then, he muttered a prayer ever so softly. He deliberately parked a few metres away in order for him to sight his surroundings and prepare himself before walking in.


    He deliberately parked a few metres away, and as quietly as before, even though he was certain that noise wouldn¡¯t even move his statuelike mother.


    He also did in order for him to sight his surroundings and prepare himself for anything no matter how hard that might sound .


    He knew that she was awake, even if she was in her bedroom and he started to wonder if she ever remembered to eat.


    She looked homeless when he saw her, that¡¯s like an understatement, but it could fit as well.


    Staring at her like this was hell for him, especially seeing how radiant and youthful she looked twelve years ago,  when everything was fine, and they were a happy,fortable family.


    Such twists of life.


    ¡°Mom, I¡¯m home¡± he whispered, unlocking the door as quietly as he could.  He had spare keys to the house- that was something everyone encouraged him to do, in case his mother got wild and locked herself inside, or maybe if she was dying and¡­


    Only one time did Rooney ever consider euthanasia. And he didn¡¯t eat anything for days after then. Instead, he started to frequently visit one bar at a corner of the street in the afternoon and there, he drank himself to stupor until 9pm, because he hated himself for thinking about helping his mother to die.


    For letting the thought stay in him.


    For considering if it was a good idea.


    She shouldn¡¯t die. She needn¡¯t die.


    ¡°Mom?¡± He called, even though he was certain he was not getting any response. Still, he shivered within him. Being already twenty six and strongly built didn¡¯t help his apprehension.


    He walked into the bedroom first, after passing by the living room and as usual, the door was left open.


    There on the bed shey, on her stomach scrunched up in a corner, lifeless except that she still breathed.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    ¡°Mom, I¡¯m here. Your son is here ¡± Still, she didn¡¯t move. If thieves raided this ce, she definitely would let them.


    He suddenly began to regret moving to New York nine years ago.


    Rooney rubbed her hand, and turned her over so that she wasying on her back now. Her body was warm and stiff.


    ¡°How are you? I came back to check on you¡± he said, faintly hoping for a response even if it was only a nod. But she was there, unmoving. He could swear that she had forgotten to blink too.


    ¡°Mom.. I¡­ I love you. I love you very much¡± With that, she blinked. For the very first time since he entered this godforsaken old mansion with a dying woman.


    ¡°I loved my father too- your husband..¡± he paused to see if that affected her but she was still.


    ¡°I know you loved him too, and probably still do¡± he shut up for a few seconds when she turned towards the wall and gobbled, beforending a generous amount of spit on it.


    ¡°I love you so much that I will never think to harm you or hate you, even if you sent me to prison, although I know that can not happen.


    My point is, I don¡¯t care what has happened in the past, as long as it¡¯s in the past, I can¡¯t me you for it¡± he paused again for effect. ¡°We are humans and we all make mistakes. We shouldn¡¯t kill ourselves out of too much guilt¡±


    With that, Lucy Wayne sat up and looked her son in the eye. Rooney tried to study her features and he could still see the beauty lying underneath all that wrinkly, exhausted eyes.


    She opened her mouth ready to say something and he nudged her, as if his whole existence depended on what woulde out of her mouth.

 TEN– BREAKING A SILENCE

    ¡°Rooney, go home¡± she whispered.  It was her first words to him since he arrived Louisiana.  And not what he wanted to hear


    ¡°No i don¡¯t want to. I¡¯m worried about you¡± he insisted


    ¡°I don¡¯t have much time left.¡± She said and looked out the window, a longing in her eyes. ¡°And I¡¯m too exhausted to keep a conversation ¡±


    ¡°Do you need anything? I¡¯ll just get you stuff that you might need¡±


    ¡°No, I just need you to go. I can¡¯ t end my life while you¡¯re here¡± she said painstakingly, tears threatening to drop down her eyes.


    That is why I should stay, he said with his eyes


    ¡°Go before I lose it. If you love me¡±


    He stood up, and studied her, unsure of whether to oblige her or not. Then he walked out of the room and listened in the keyhole. He heard her yelling and calling herself a murderer and a fool, and he couldn¡¯t help sobbing too.


    Why is she doing this to us?


    The only woman he¡¯s ever cried for, is his mother, and he was so sick of it.


    Why wouldn¡¯t anyone want to be helped by their own family?


    Rooney cut a paper out of his rough work document and wrote,


    ¡°Mom, It is Rooney, your dear son. When I was nine, you told me all you wanted for me, and my brother, Sydney was for us to be kind souls, and people who encouraged unity and kindness in whatever way they could. That way, we would be sessful in a clean way.


    Growing up, I have done a host of charitable work and I¡¯d love to discuss them with only one person.


    You of course. You¡¯re the best mother in the world because you brought me to this high ce in life. Without you, I would have been a vagabond. I love you and i really mean it.  I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t say it enough when I was home.¡±


    Then he put his number underneath the paper, rolled it and slipped it in her keyhole.


    There was a old mobile telephone in the house and he already checked if it was still working.


    It was.


    Then he slowly walked towards his car.


    He was nevering back. Except she called. He turned on hisptop and started to type in AnonymousForever¡¯ s timeline,Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    I am overwhelmed,  and I know she is too, but at least I know what overwhelms me, and I can talk about it, to Cole, Wills , Jack, Bryan or Brandy, but she can¡¯t, to anyone.


    And no, I¡¯m not talking about her.


    No, not rissa.


    It is my mother this time.


    My mother is a statue and I feel like I¡¯m responsible for it everytime I look at her, although I don¡¯t know how. Isn¡¯t that how she feels too? That she¡¯s responsible for Dad¡¯s death. Such a horrible way to live. I just really hope she¡¯ll talk to me sooner thanter. Or Sydney.  Or Dr Morgan, her therapist.  She¡¯s always talking about death, and it scares me.


    Now that I think about it, i need a distraction. I need to talk to someone about it, someone who¡¯s not Cole or Wills or Jack, or Bryan or Brandy


    Someone soft and warm, full of life.  someone who is alone or seems lonely- A woman like her who might understand.  A woman with the green eyes of nature. rissa Bean.


    I just really hope it¡¯s not a bad idea to start a conversation with her like this. I could just use the excuse of wanting to know each other so we could be friendlier neighbours if it did not sound too stupid in her ears.


    I¡¯m worried about her too. I should call her but I don¡¯t have her number.


    I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m worried about her. I feel like it¡¯s my duty to be there for her, because it seemed she had no one, or maybe it¡¯s just my assumption. We should talk about this- my former tenant, the one who lived in the quarters, had a family, and they were usually loud and chatty, and had friends and rtives over all the time, but, rissa moved in alone, and I¡¯ve never seen any friends stop by ever since.


    We should talk about this but she doesn¡¯t want to be my friend.


    There must be a reason she said that, but then she eats my homemade meals and asks me to get her sanitary pads, so i think she doesn¡¯t trust me just yet, but at the same time has no choice but to ask me for help.


    Because she has no one close by, or has no one at all.


    I should convince her that she can talk to me, and I can be a good friend, because I really want to know her.


    The other day I had woken up to hear her yelling across her balcony.


    She was yelling, more like barking on phone, and trying to catch a breath, and after she hanged up, she seemed disillusioned,  because she was grabbing her chest and crying.


    Whoever she was talking to that day, surely had her on edge. I wanted to go check on her but then, she ran into her apartment and mmed the door with a big bang. I could have really offended her if I went.


    Maybe she needed a good cry. We all do sometimes .


    I¡¯m just curious to know her reasons for needing a good cry.


    And if she needs to know mine too, I¡¯ll tell her.


    I don¡¯t have many secrets and I¡¯m discreet, but she¡¯s the kind of person who makes you easilyfortable with them- she¡¯s funny, dramatic, and annoying in a good way.


    And very pretty.


    Maybe i really should get back home , to New York already.  Mom might call me if she everes around. I hope she does.¡±


    Rooney mmed the lid over without shutting down. He ruffled his hands through his hair and sighed. He was not getting any sleep that night even though he was exhausted.


    He waited for day to break and then after checking on her secretly for thest time, he left.

 ELEVEN– INVITING TROUBLE

    rissa¡¯s POV


    For three days and a half now, I¡¯ve been lonelier than I have ever been in my whole life. I got my first sry a couple of days ago, and it did not excite me.


    Normally, when we got our first sries especially at our newest jobs, Jessie and I would go shopping for a few clothes anddy stuff and then try out new restaurants with half of our sries, and then we¡¯d save the rest, but there¡¯s no Jessie. She¡¯s miles away and I could only share my good news with her on phone.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    She was the first I called, before Gerald


    ¡°Congrattions on your first sry, ssy, I love you and i¡¯m so freaking proud of you!¡± I could feel her excitement on the other end and i couldn¡¯t help blushing, with tears streaming down my face.


    I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because of how much i missed being called,  ¡°ssy¡± or because I wished she were here.


    If only she knew how much I wanted her toe over so we could go shopping and try out new restaurants. She literally is one of the few people who¡¯s made running away a bit easier on me.


    ¡°Make sure you go shopping.  Buy a lot of pads, a few jeans and shoes, curtains and shit.


    Get a new hairdo too, and if you can, try any new restaurant in town. I wish I could join you. I¡¯ll try to join you for the next, I promise¡± she literally pleaded with me to go out and have fun on my own, but I still didn¡¯t know most ces here.


    I was always either on my way to work or on my way back home.


    Rooney was the only person I talked to here. The one I shouldn¡¯t even talk to. That stalker who unfortunately lived next door.


    The days were too boring since my neighbour was not even back yet,(and to be honest,  I really missed him. I don¡¯ know what I¡¯m saying really. ) so, I asked Will to let me work overnight with the others who did, but he told me that he couldn¡¯t pay me more than what we agreed on.


    You needed to see me trying desperately, ¡°Will, i¡¯m not asking for a raise. I just don¡¯t want to go home earlier than 8pm at least. I have nothing else to do at home¡±


    ¡°No, rissa Bean¡± , there we go again with the slurry ent, ¡°I can¡¯t let you work overnight.  It¡¯s not in your contract. Wait till you¡¯re promoted to be my assistant, then you can work for a whole day and even sleep in thepany every night, if you want¡± He was being sarcastic and I felt like cutting his tongue off, but I just stormed out of his office instead, fuming and trying not to lose it.


    Only to return to my office and find a crisp enveloped sheet on my desk that read, A three-day sick leave for rissa Bean. I just stood there, balling my eyes out, my door left open.


    I was being very unprofessional, and I did not care that anyone thought I was an immature adult or a lonely round-butt pig.


    ¡°Get some hobbies, rissa. Make one  friend at least,  and try going out for the most of these three days. Also, take care of your health please. If you need more days to sleep in, I can give you the whole week- Bridget and rke will stand in for you. Your health is our concern in Greens Hotels And Suites. Things won¡¯t go fine in your department if you fall ill¡± He wrote in the sheet. I badly wanted to w his eyes out immediately after, but I¡¯d be a total nuisance to the wholepany if I tried, and he might get mad at me, for real.


    I didn¡¯t ever want to see Wills Taylor¡¯s anger.


    How could Will Taylor do this to me though? I had no idea why he thought I needed rest all the time, or who told him I was sick, just because I looked like I might cry everytime he saw me.


    Anyways, I got home and reported my boss to Gerald.


    He was very concerned and he tried to calm me down as usual, telling me that my boss simply cared about me, although I didn¡¯t want to have any of that.


    I wish he¡¯d juste over but he said he had work to do, and I just hanged up,  saying it was okay, and that I¡¯d be fine without him.


    How was i supposed to cope in a city where i had no friend, no family, possibly not even a enemy and now, my neighbour is gone?


    Truth be told , i really had no hobbies, or maybe i just never paid any attention to them. I used to write a lot in my journals when I was younger, but that was before Tom died.


    I used to nt radishes and beet roots in my own little garden too. Sometimes I painted in my sketchbook. I¡¯ve always loved nature but I stopped paying attention to them ever since I got here.


    I stopped writing and gardening after Tom died, and after my father died too.


    When I started my leave, I decided to paint or write or garden or make a friend. Whatever worked.


    I went to the other side of my apartment and knocked on their door. A woman answered from inside. I had never seen any of them until then but I knew it was a quiet family.


    ¡°Good morning¡± I said shyly. She must be at least forty or a little over forty. She was  dressed in pajama bottoms that looked like it belonged to her husband, and she had short, wavy blonde hair.


    Her front door was slightly open and when I sneaked a peek, i saw that the house was very clean,  and she had an online meeting going on, which she had paused to attend to me.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± And then it urred to me that people didn¡¯t know me here, just as much I didn¡¯t know anyone here.


    ¡°Your new neighbour. I live on the other end¡±


    ¡°In the quarters?¡±


    ¡°Ah yes. In the quarters¡± I was fidgeting because she looked intimidating.  Or maybe I was just nervous, is all.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure¡­ you don¡¯t look familiar¡­ what do you want though?¡± This woman must not need any friend. She was too sharp-tongued and hostile for my liking.


    ¡°I err¡­ I am not sure. I guess I just need some..¡± i started to stammer because she didn¡¯t look all that friendly to me. Or maybe she was just really busy.


    ¡°Some chit-chat ¡± i found myself saying, a stupid grin stered to my face


    For a start, this woman definitely worked from home. Two, she did not like strangers. End of story.


    She gave me the up and down look, like I was crazy and did not know,  and then pointed to a door in a distance.


    It was literally the direction of Rooney¡¯s apartment


    ¡°What?¡± I questioned


    ¡± Sorry I¡¯m too busy to entertain silly talk. Go talk to ourndowner. He should understand your stuttering. ¡± and then she mmed the door hard in my face so much that I literally shook.


    Fine, it was a bad idea trying to make a friend.  Wills must have no idea how hard that was.


    Getting back to my row,  I double checked Rooney¡¯s door to see if he was back yet, but it was still locked. Then the rude woman¡¯s words began to y back in my head. She had said, Go talk to ourndowner


    Landowner.  Landowner? She must not mean Rooney Wayne,  or did she? I gasped and made a mental note to ask him whenever he returned from wherever the fuck he went to.


    Then I took out my booklist from my bag and ruled out ¡®Make a friend¡¯.   I was never trying that again.


    Then I called Jessie. She must be really busy, as she just started out her business, and was cleaning the building. She was going to open her own confectionery. Surprisingly,  she picked on the second ring.


    ¡°Hey, ssy, you good, babe?¡±


    ¡°Yeah I am. How is preparation?¡±


    ¡°I needed more hands, so I asked Brad and Pete for help¡± she sounded out of breath, like a pregnant woman who had run miles and just reached the end of the race.


    ¡°How was it? Did they agree to help?¡±


    ¡°All they have done is take my voice away¡± Iughed because I knew what she meant.


    They didn¡¯t help much, and so she had had to scream at them too much. Her fianc¨¦ and brother were a hell of a annoying, hrious bunch. I have only seen them twice or thrice and I already know


    ¡°I just sent them away, and guess what?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I was already shaking with giggles.


    ¡°They happily left. Said they had a match to watch anyways¡± Jessie groaned, and Iughed harder until I started to forget why I called her in the first ce.


    ¡°I wish you were here,  ssy. I really wish. I feel bad for the older women helping me clean, they¡¯ve been too much help I am starting to feel guilty¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be there for the grand opening, i promise¡± I really wanted to be there but I was not sure about it.


    ¡°You dare not miss it¡± she said and then asked the question I¡¯d been waiting for her to ask  since she picked up, ¡°No work today?¡±


    ¡°No, i¡¯m on a three-day sick leave¡± I sighed, remembering my loneliness and how bad I still want to w Wills Taylor¡¯s eyes out of their sockets.


    ¡°Why? Are you sick?¡±


    ¡°Apparently my boss thinks I need bed rest. Let¡¯s not even talk about how he¡¯s asked me to make sure I get some hobbies , and make a friend,  because ording to him, I¡¯m the loneliest rat in my neighbourhood¡± I said, meaning every word but, Jessieughed so hard i started tough too.


    ¡°You did not tell him you have the bestest friend in California?¡±


    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have any of it¡± I said, pausing for effect. ¡°I tried making a friend here though. To cut a long story short,  I already have an enemy in New York¡±  I said, and sheughed again.


    ¡°At least you made an enemy. That¡¯s progress. I¡¯m proud of you¡±


    Iughed again and wished I could continue the conversation, but then she said she had to go check on the bidding for paint.


    ¡°I miss you, Jessie¡±


    ¡°Miss you more, ssy. Bye for now,  okay?¡± she said and hanged up.


    I decided to spend the rest of the day writing about all my experiences in New York, including how I met my first enemy.

 TWELVE– MRS BEAN AT IT AGAIN

    As soon as I was done writing, it was alreadyte in the afternoon and i had not had lunch.


    I wished the other woman I had tried making friends with, would have at least talked to me. Then, maybe we would have gone shopping together for some foodstuff and pads and curtains.


    I had nothing to eat at home except a bag of chips and a loaf of bread that was already starting to harden. I wished I could just go to work and help for a few hours, and then I¡¯d get free lunch, and not be so bored, but Wills said to stay at home and get hobbies.


    I was going to pick up somechowter,for dinner or I¡¯d really start to starve, again.


    I sat on my bed, ncing through what I had written, and smiled to myself. The bag of chipsy on my thighs as I nonchntly  chowed away my time. I should go shopping when I had the time  now, maybe try finding my way around here on my own.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    I sure could not get lost. Here is a big ce wheremercial taxis plowed everywhere but I was held back by something I could not even ce my hand on. I¡¯m not so much of a social person, but i¡¯m not one to be so socially awkward that I couldn¡¯t go get stuff that I need.


    Maybe it was because my neighbour was yet to be back.


    Maybe I did not believe at all  in my cooking. So much that I¡¯d rather not buy foodstuff and have someone who¡¯s good at it, buy it and cook it for me while I watched, and maybe learnt how to be better.


    Twenty minutes and a empty bag of chipster, I decided to take an aimless walk down the street. No, not particrly aimless- I had a mission.


    There was a bar per restaurant downtown,  and their fuzzy drinks and wines looked nice. I never tried them but they must taste as nice as they looked in their adverts, not? I didn¡¯t know if their food was nice too.


    I had to really taste it to know, not?


    I was only going to try a drink,  maybe just coffee or soda, and probably some cookies, with a bit of my sry. Then, maybe I¡¯d find someone to talk to in the bar, and I wouldn¡¯t be bored to death.


    Someone who was friendly or liked to cook, like Rooney, or someone who loved shopping and shopped all the time.


    I took my time preparing myself, looking my very best. It was to let time pass quickly and not because I was trying to impress anyone.


    Or maybe I was


    I even dabbed some powder on, and carefullybed my wavy hair.


    My gel bottle was already empty, so i justbed it, applied my hair cream which was starting to finish too, and then let all the hair loose.


    I made a mental note to add a blow dryer, hair gel, and cream to the list of the things I would buy, if I had a chance to shop with someone.


    Before dressing my hair, I slipped on a blue jean gown that was already two sizes too small for me, but I cared less. I had no stomach to hide, so there was no shame in wearing something so tight.


    Plus I¡¯m no floozie, but you really have to give that to me- my booty was really popping in that blue jean gown, like always.


    Maybe I should consider enrolling in a gym, like Gerald did, so that I would keep this booty forever. I would kill to still look like this at forty, fifty and even sixty.


    When I finally looked in the mirror, I was very pleased. I slipped on my straplike leather bag and my sandals and quietly locked my door behind me, a smile still stered on my face.


    ¡°Strap on a pair, rissa ¡± I encouraged myself,  tucked in my tummy and breathed out twice. ¡°You look gorgeous¡± I mumbled to myself.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a drink. Not a date. Stop smiling sheepishly like you wanna go suck a guy¡¯s balls somewhere¡± I said again, conpletely killing my smile.


    I took a brisk walk around the quarters, searching for a ce that might be possible for growing nts. There was none. The steps to the roof looked like it had some soil though, but I would have to checkter.


    A fun day out with my round-buttes first. I decided to take a painstaking look around Rooney¡¯s apartment before jumping onto the road.


    For the umpteenth time since he¡¯s disappeared,  I¡¯ve found myself looking around for him and literally staying by my window and waiting for him to drive into his parking lot, like a miracle. If trouble came to me, don¡¯t ask around- I must have brought it upon myself.


    I tried to imagine where he might be, but my mind was usually nk thinking about him. I knew nothing about him other than he was a really tall, buff dude who sounded unbelievably sexy.


    No, I mean nice. Sexy is too much to qualify a stranger. All i remembered about him was his heavenly smell of strawberries,  mint and hot chocte, and his mouthwatering homemade chicken sd,  sandwich, ham and cheese and pancakes.


    I jumped into his balcony and walked up to his front door.  It appeared that no one was in because it was still tightly secured. I rounded his apartment and stopped when I reached his kitchen window.


    Oh my! Margarine¡­ I could catch the lingering smell of margarine somewhere on the sill. I could smell strawberries too. Milk too. Full- cream, fresh milk.


    I could literally drown in that aroma.


    Cooking must have been thest thing he did before leaving, four days ago.


    For some reason, I wanted to remain there and breathe in the air, because it brought back my smile. I brought out my phone to check what the time said. It was almost 4pm.


    I decided to stay there until 4pm hoping that Rooney would note home and find me sneaking around like that, because even though he had always been nice, I could not tell if he had a temper worse than Gerald¡¯s, but i remained there, also hoping that he¡¯d find me there.


    But it seemed the universe had other ns for me. n that did not include having some fun time in a bar downtown. Or breathing in foody air. My phone rang and I jerked out of my aromatic attachment.


    It was thest person I wanted to talk to. I knew what she would first ask me, and I was not ready to talk to her about it.


    But I answered the call anyways. Because if I didn¡¯t, I would have to get my ass ready for a total of twenty annoying texts, about how rude of a child I was, and how Jessie never does that to her own mother.


    ¡°rissa, did you get your first sry yet?¡± Like who starts a call asking about their kid about their first sry? My mom does.


    ¡°Yes, I did¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s lovely¡±, she squealed, ¡°Congrattions¡± It was so watery that my mouth went too dry to mutter a thank you back.


    ¡°Jessie told me you were going to shop for a few essentials, and I figured you have your sry ready. Who¡¯s shopping with you?¡±


    Like she already concluded I could never have any savings.


    ¡°My fat ass¡± I said, trying so hard not to catch a flight to California immediately, to punch Jessie in the face for telling on me.


    My hands started forming into fists and I badly wanted to punch something.


    Anything at all.


    So I hit Rooney¡¯s railings as hard as i could. Twice. It hurt like hell but I refused to feel the pain. I might as well drive to California right then.


    ¡°Are you joking me? You have no friends to go with you?¡± She yelled, sounding annoyingly British, and failing to catch my humour.


    I started to walk towards the street, preparing to hang up on her if she tried ruining my mood. I was almost at the verge of doing it and not regretting it for the se .


    ¡°Mom, i don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything wrong in shopping alone¡± I whined, trying so hard to be as quiet and polite as possible. I should have lied that I have friends already.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong in shopping with friends too. I bet you have not made any yet, not?¡± I could hear her scoff and tug at the air, as if demonstrating the nonexistence of my social circle. ¡°Where are you? Not at work?¡±

 THIRTEEN– ALL SHADES OF HIGH AND COURTNEY

    ¡°I¡¯m going out to get a drink¡±


    ¡°A drink? With who?¡±


    ¡°Alone¡±, she was about to say something, when I quickly added, ¡°How¡¯s Stephan?¡±


    ¡°I sent him to the store, to get some eggs and spice¡±


    ¡°Oh.  Stephan goes to the store now?¡± Iughed, hoping she would justugh too instead of bashing me.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t really need anything.  I just needed some alone time with my spiky-hair dude¡± she said, chuckling a bit, and that stopped me in my tracks.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    ¡°Wha.. What dude?¡± I knew who she was referring to, but for some reason, i wanted her answer.


    ¡± You forgot your brother, Courtney? How can you forget him so quick? You haven¡¯t even been gone two months¡±, she ranted on, pausing for a short time,


    ¡°He visited earlier today and he¡¯s been asking about you. If you were around here, he would have asked you to our dinner tonight.¡±


    ¡°I.. I don¡¯t..¡± I stuttered before gaining myposure. ¡°Bye for now, Mom. Please tell Stephan I said hi. I have to go¡± I said, and hanged up. I could hear her saying something about saying hello to Courtney because he..


    And I wished i had waited to hear the rest of her words .


    Then I gged down a taxi and sitting in there, I let myself imagine Courtney sitting confidently in our dining room back in California, with his spiky brown hair and stupid hairy chest, having a chat with my mom as if they¡¯ve lived together for a long time, and stopping by to give her a quick peck on the cheek, and then mouthing, ¡°You did not deserve this ten years ago¡±


    I imagined him asking for my whereabouts for the umpteenth time, and I imagined mom telling him I ran away because I thought she was a bad mother.


    I imagined himughing at her statement, and asking her for my address so he could visit me one of these days.


    I imagined him ordering Stephan around, to the store, to the gas station, everywhere,  just so he could be alone with mom, as if trying to bond with her would take all the pressure between them away.


    It was too much to imagine.


    I didn¡¯t know whether it was for the fact that Courtney came into her life again, after many years of abandoning him, and without us knowing about him until a few years ago, or because mom expected Stephan and I to ept him as our real brother, or because she gave him too much affection, more than she¡¯ll ever show me or Stephan in a lifetime.


    I held my head and shut my eyes tight, trying hard to shake off the memory of four years ago.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± The man at the wheel turned to face me, his eyes darting forward and backwards like a switch.  ¡°You just groaned¡±


    ¡°The- new ¨C bar -downtown, ¨C please¡± I clipped, willing him to keep quiet or I¡¯d have to dump my frustration on a totally innocent man. He caught the hint and drove quietly for the rest of the way.


    Thank goodness I was on my way to a bar anyway. I was really going to drown myself in vintage wine or vodka or whatever fucking alcohol they had.


    Coffee or fuzzy drinks would never take this memory away.


    When he stopped at the bar, I mmed the door shut and flung a dor note at him. He must have understood that I was not in a good mood, because he just drove away without uttering another word.


    Grateful there was no queue at that moment, I walked my way to the alcohol section and whispered,  ¡°Three bottles of vodka please¡±


    ¡°Excuse me? Can you be more vocal please?¡± The middle-aged man at the counter said, looking very clueless.


    ¡°Three- fucking- bottles- of- vodka, goddammit!¡± I cussed, above my breath. A pair of eyes turned to look at me, and I could swear that If there wasn¡¯t music ying in here, I¡¯d probably be thrown out by these people.


    That means, only a few of them heard my cussing.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have any vodka, sorry¡±


    ¡°Give me any alcohol you¡¯ve got, goddammit!¡± I cussed again, nonchntly.  I just wanted to forget this memory because every movement  I made brought Courtney closer to me. I saw his face on the middle-aged man¡¯s face and everywhere else. So i copsed on an empty seat andid my head on the table.


    Most people here were too engrossed in their drinking and drivels to care about a crazy, vulgar girl in unbelievably tight jeans that shot her ass backwards, two times more than it was natural.


    This would be my second time drinking and If i were to consider how my first time went, I¡¯d rather be in my room crying my eyes out than be here, doing it again.


    The first time I drank was two days after dad died. Mom was force-sending me to her sister¡¯s in Miami because she thought I was crying too much, and relocation would help me. Gerald was away on a work assignment and Stephan was not helping my grief.


    So I had decided to visit Jessie¡¯s , but going there had earned me more pity than I had thought of receiving.  So much that I had to excuse myself from them,  found a bar close to school, and in one sitting downed three bottles of vodka.


    I was a few days away from my eighteenth birthday but I did not care.


    Then I ate four bags of my favorite potato chips, hoping I¡¯d feel better, but I did not. Instead, I felt my stomach churn from nausea, and I was so so wasted that night. I had stayed there until 9pm because I didn¡¯t want to be home or at Jessie¡¯s.


    Or anywhere.


    Except with dad. But he was gone. Gone forever.


    My phone had been in my pockets blowing with calls and buzzing with numerous texts from Jessie¡¯s mother, Jessie, Gerald, Stephan and mom too.


    Even Brad left me a text. Everyone of them were worried for me but I had not answered their calls or texts.


    Around 10pm that night, I had been helped by someone whose face I could not really figure until muchter, because I was stoned.


    He pulled me up and led me out of the bar. I remember tripping twice but he helped me up again. I was too high to argue with him. I also remembered puking on his jacket and he took it off and held it out for me for more.


    Then I passed out after.


    When I opened my eyes, I was on the said man¡¯s bed, and he was wiping my face with a cloth. He had a wicked grin on his face and I remembered asking him if anything was funny, before asking him how I got into his house.


    ¡°You willingly followed me, rissa.  I¡¯m sorry about your dad¡¯s death. You can trust that I¡¯ll fill in the vacuum, if only you let me¡±, He had said and I lifted my hand to p him, but he took it.


    And that was when I remembered his face.


    He was barely eight years older, plus he was a totally miserable and jobless college drop-out, and he WANTED to be my stepfather.


    All shades of wrong.


    Such audacity.


    ¡°Be a real man before thinking of being a father, goddamn son of a bitch¡± I had spat.


    I was already sober but he did not let me go, even after I hit him and asked him to give me back my phone because I could not find it.


    Instead, he made me agree to make him feel better, by stroking his dick, because ording to him, I had turned him on with my fits and drunkenness, and with the way my butt jiggled when I turned in my sleep. That¡¯s me quoting his exact words.


    And that man was no other person but Courtney Michaelson.


    ¡°Your order, ma¡¯am ¡± the waiter jerking me out of my reverie looked so peaceful I chose to respond appropriately, or I¡¯d have thrown five blows his way and removed two of his teeth, give or take, three.


    No one dared to interrupt m e.


    ¡°Thank you¡± I said as he ced a tray which contained three bottles of vintage on my table.


    The blissful aroma of delicious meals filled my nostrils when I faced the window close to me.


    It reminded me of Rooney, my neighbour and it only strengthened my determination to get wasted that night, because Rooney might nevere back to me.


    The restaurant must surely have some nice meal courses, and I was definitely going to try some when I am in a lighter mood. Jessie would want this.


    The music was not so loud now, but it was still getting in my head. I didn¡¯t want to hear anything.


    Voices in my head were getting loud. They were counting numbers, and I had no idea why.


    One..


    Two..


    ¡°Oh my goodness!¡± I covered my ears with my hands and tried to drown out the noise. But the ones in my head started to get louder


    Three..


    Four..


    ¡°Quiet!¡± I bawled, bringing the whole bar to a brief standstill. I knew because everyone fell quiet and nced my way.


    Four hundred and ten or a million eyes. There must be at least six bad guys here. I thought.


    If I wasn¡¯t in a daze, I¡¯d be drowning in embarrassment and helping myself out of the bar in long, swift strides already,  and I was certain that if I ever remembered this scenario,  I was never visiting this bar.


    Ever again.


    I should drink myself to stupor now, but I first looked around the bar as if Courtney was hiding somewhere there,  and was waiting for me to get high again.


    Five¡­


    ¡°Fuck you, Courtney Michaelson. Fuck you!¡± I bawled, throwing my middle fingers in the air. ¡°Get your ass down here and stop hiding already!¡±


    Six..


    The voices were done counting now, so I started to sip my vintage slowly, relishing the sour taste that went straight into my head and cut my tongue each time.


    I suddenly felt like a novice at getting wasted. Well, I kinda was, seeing that I had only been drunk once in my whole life.


    I was there until 9pm like the first time I drank like this, back in California. The bar attendants did not ask me to excuse the seat for another customer. They must have decided to just leave me the fuck alone, excusing my crazy, cussing ass-  At least that must have been their conclusion about me.


    Being high makes you forget stuff temporarily but it really is not a good thing. I was totally disillusioned and my vision was very blur.


    I could see that it was already dark and I needed to be home, but I was scared I would fall, so I just remained in the bar throwing up on myself and fiddling with the empty bottles of vintage.


    Throwing up did not help me one bit, because the more I threw up, the more I wanted to throw up.


    So, I justid there, crying, even though I did not remember what brought me to this bar in the first ce. All i knew was that I was really going to pass out, and so, my next statement was wrong in every way.


    ¡°One bottle of vintage please!¡± I drawled, drunkenly and the waiter acknowledged my order almost immediately.


    When he brought the bottle to me, I felt a touch on my shoulder, and I instinctively wobbled up on my feet to p whoever it was. My handsnded on a solid thing instead, and opening my eyes, I realized it was the guy¡¯s chest.


    As hard as a rock.


    ¡°Courtney, it¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it?¡± I mumbled in a drunken haze.


    ¡°rissa, let¡¯s get you home. You¡¯re drunk¡± the guy with the solid chest said, and I mindlessly followed him, because again, I was too stoned to argue.

 FOURTEEN– IN A STRANGER’S HOUSE

    Buzzing with calls, my phone snuggled up beside me while i was busy zzzing away my time, totally oblivious to my environment.


    Someone was cooking in a beautiful blue and white kitchen and the aroma was extremely mouthwatering. To think i was visibly sucking my lips and moaning to the aroma with my eyes still shut, in a stranger¡¯s room!


    It was my favorite jambya, because I could literally perceive the shrimpy feel or whatever.  Plus the ham simmering on fire was to die for. The cook was still washing the chicken, I could tell. And i thought if I opened my eyes, the whole thing would be gone, so I stayed asleep.


    Awake but with my eyes shut.


    Honestly, if I had been with a bad guy, he would had a field day with me at least five good times, without me knowing. It wouldn¡¯t be my fault however, and I was definitely going to press charges. Not only would I charge the bad guy to court and send him to a long term imprisonment in jail, I would also charge his goddamned bed. Thanks goodness I definitely would get evidences of their assault on me.


    It¡¯s not my fault that this goddamned bed from whatchamacallit is frigging cosy andfy. That¡¯s an understatement,  but it could fit.


    Why in tarnation have I not discovered this ce in New York? If any two lovebirds are cold, they cancosy upon this bed without any nkets, rather than by the firece. They really didn¡¯t need any fire.


    How could anyone have such a bed in their homes and not be sued for it?


    This bed is the reason some other people¡¯s beds are not sofy; it has definitely sucked off thefortabillity of every other bed in the universe. It¡¯s warm, snug and plush. Owner must have busted a lot of dors to get this set up.


    I was already awake but did not open my eyes. If it was a dream, I would let it linger a while more because i was not ready for reality.


    ¡°Gerald, let¡¯s make out here, it¡¯s sofy.


    I wish you were here. You are really missing out. Missing out big time!¡± Iughed dreamily, snuggling closer in the bed, my eyes still shut tigh t.


    I knew someone brought me here, but I did not know who, or why yet. I heard some music ying in the background too,


    Music. Cooking. Cosy bed.


    Heaven. I¡¯m the most blessed, I thought.


    But when I turned over in the bed, feeling my butt exposing a little bit from my movement, I realized it was only my phone.


    Music from my phone.


    No, not music. It was exploding with calls.


    I briskly opened my eyes and grabbed it, deliberately refusing to observe my environment lest my dream disappeared. Gerald was calling, Jessie had called two hours ago, and Stephan left me a text. Two technically


    None from Courtney Michaelson.


    Courtney Michaelson is not here or he¡¯d already have my phone. Thanks goodness, I mumbled.


    Then I clicked on Stephan¡¯s text first, ¡°Hi big sis, I miss you¡±


    ¡°.. So much. Call me¡±


    ¡°Aww, I miss you too, my baby boy¡± I muttered to myself and slowly began to take in my environment.  This room definitely didn¡¯t look like mine. It had creamy white curtains, stained with golden dots of purple and silver.  Believe me, I wasknocked backby the sheer size and color of the room.


    It was royal-ish,  but not like Gerald¡¯s. This one was more colourful and exquisite.


    Definitely not Courtney¡¯s too. He could only own this ce in his dreams, and in my nightmares.


    Fuck you, Courtney Michaelson


    Fuck you, Courtney Michaelson


    Fuck off, six times.


    Roast you, six times. In hell.N?vel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.


    This house was a whole pce. A king certainly lived here, or maybe a Prince.


    I studied the walls and glistening marbled floor and I concluded in my mind that a Prince lived here.


    I was preparing to turn to the other side to examine it when two things happened at once- the earlier aroma of the meal hit my nostrils again, and I was met with a pair of alluring turquoise eyes, across from me.


    ¡°Do you always talk in your sleep?¡± He whispered,  studying my features.  My eyes were wide open, but I was too stupefied to move an inch. He definitely had a smirk on, and I had to blink a million times to assure myself that I was dreaming.


    It¡¯s a dream, rissa.  It¡¯s a dream. Get yourself together


    ¡°Cat got your tongue now?¡± He said again. He was d in a green vest that hugged his biceps and shorts that exposed his buff thighs that were a little bigger than Gerald¡¯s,  or maybe just as big.


    Fuck, it¡¯s not a dream. Did he hear me say ¡°Gerald, let¡¯s make out here¡± too? Oh no. Good Lord, no. Please. Let him not have heard it. If he did, please delete it from his memory. Puh-leeze.


    I pped my face and pulled the rest of my body out of the nkets in one swift move. It was him, and this was his room, his house. That I¡¯ve never been inside of.


    And¡­ wait. He¡¯s back!


    It didn¡¯t make any sense. So, I pped myself again. That action pushed a shortugh out of him.


    ¡°Stop hitting yourself so much. It¡¯s not a dream. You are really here, rissa¡± he paused to stare at me, smiling.


    ¡°But who the hell is Courtney Michaelson? You keep mentioning his name and asking him to fuck off¡± when he did not get an answer from me, he continued,


    ¡°I brought you homest night but I couldn¡¯t get your keys to open your door. You probably lost it in the bar or something ¡±


    ¡°Rooney?¡± I double-checked. It was him.


    ¡°If you could wait, I¡¯m already making breakfast.  I¡¯m sure you had nothing to eatst night¡± That aroma was not a dream. Someone was really cooking. Rooney was cooking.


    ¡°What is it? What are you cooking?¡± I stupidly asked, jumping off his bed.


    ¡°Jambya¡± he mumbled, getting up. Then before he could return to the kitchen, I did the most unimaginable thing- I hopped onto his chest and hugged the hell out of him.


    ¡°Rooney, it¡¯s you! Where have you been?¡±


    Now he was definitely going to call me the usuals- an immature adult or a round-butt, lonely pig. But he called me neither. Instead, he pushed me off him gently and said, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you at breakfast,  neighbour¡±


    While I was still recovering from the shock, he added,


    ¡°Don¡¯t go anywhere please. You should eat something, if you want to stop throwing up so much¡±


    Even though he was just being factual when he called me ¡®neighbour¡¯, I immediately became very embarrassed my by stunts.


    Plus he had confirmed that I had thrown up multiple times the previous night.


    I had hugged him too. No, I had hopped onto my annoying neighbour¡¯s shoulders and stayed there, out of sheer excitement . Damn! I would never be able to look him in the eye anymore.


    When I was sure he was not looking, I took my phone, passed through his doorway as quietly as I could, and ran out of his house, towards the quarters.


    Unluckily, the key to my front door was not in my pockets. He had said so.


    ¡°Fuck! What do i do now?¡± I thought. My dress and my mouth reeked of alcohol. My hair was messy, and i couldn¡¯t even find my bag. I definitely looked like hell. Or shit.

 FIFTEEN– BUSTED

    I swear, getting wasted never ends well. Never.


    I looked back and forth to see if Rooney wasing after me. He wasn¡¯t. At least not yet.


    He was still probably in the kitchen, serving my breakfast in a te, unaware of my absence. I couldn¡¯t go to the bar like this. I was already very self-conscious. Girl! I know i already said so but I looked like shit.   I needed to shower, and not just a cold bath, but a thorough, one-hour soaking in the tub after spending twenty minutes under the shower.


    ¡°Oh shit, I don¡¯t have a tub¡± I thought, heaving a sigh of frustration. Tubs only existed in houses like Rooney¡¯s.  Royal-ish ces.


    Man! I also needed to take a shit real bad, despite that I didn¡¯t have anything to eat the previous night. My stomach literally felt empty and if Iughed, it would hurt.


    I immediately stopped under the nts in my balcony and bent over those poor nts, trying so hard to hide myself. I began to hear his footsteps just then. He was really searching for me.


    What have I done?


    ¡°Rooney, don¡¯te here please. Just go eat the jambya alone. I swear I¡¯m fine without it. I can buy some snackster¡± I soliloquized, hoping that it would happen just like that. But he was still calling my name anding towards the quarters


    ¡®Lord, please let him forget about me. Let him forget aboutst night, this morning.  Everything. Let it be a dream, pretty puh-leeze. I hope he doesn¡¯t hurt me ¡® I prayed, rubbing my hands towards the sky.  I sucked my stomach in, and took a breath.


    My phone rang again, causing a useful distraction. It was Stephan.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not taking my calls. Did you get my texts?¡±


    ¡°I did. And I will call youter, Stephan. I promise. I¡¯m on the run at the moment¡±


    ¡°What the fuck? Did you kill someone or something?¡± He wasughing.  Stephan is a sadist. He must be.


    ¡°Something close. Pray for me, it¡¯s really bad¡±


    ¡°Enough with the pranks. Call me when you return from work. Courtney wants to talk to you, and he is asking for your number ¡±


    ¡°What? Don¡¯t give it to him!¡±


    ¡°But..¡±


    ¡°I said, don¡¯t. Don¡¯t give him my number or my work address. Don¡¯t do it. Do you understand English?¡±


    ¡°Chix, sis. I heard you the first time¡±


    ¡°Good. I will callter if i escape this. Bye¡± I hanged up and took another breath.


    I stopped hearing Rooney¡¯s voice, and so i sighed with relief.


    ¡°Thank you, Lord¡± I mumbled  ¡°Thank you Lord for sending him away¡± I mumbled.


    ¡°Taking who away?¡± His masculine voice forced my eyes open, and i gripped my railings for support. He was right before me, all six-foot six, and shrugging nonchntly, maintaining the smirk on his face.


    ¡°Hey, I appreciate everything you didst night.  You were so nice and¡­¡± I paused, trying to rephrase my words because the expression on his face said it sounded wrong, ¡± i mean,st night would have been awful if you didn¡¯te there to drag me home¡±


    ¡°I know¡± he said, smirking.


    ¡°I can take care of myself now.¡± I deadpanned,  looking into his eyes.  He was staring at me too and if I broke eye contact, I was definitely going to fall back onto the poor nts in the vase.


    From I don¡¯t know, embarrassment or his eyes that you could literally drown in if you looked too long?


    Snap, this is not what I signed up for.


    ¡°Okay¡± he said, still standing there. ¡°Okay, okay¡± he reiterated,  fiddling with his buttons.


    ¡°I said I can take care of myself now, I¡¯m twenty three¡±, I yelled, folding my arms under my bosom. ¡°It means that I don¡¯t need breakfast from you. Or anything else¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡± He said, still waiting.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°What is it? Just leave me alone- you scare the shit out of me!¡±


    ¡°Really? I will have to give your breakfast to Maddie then. She is forty two but appreciates my cooking¡± he said sarcastically, pointing towards the door next to mine, and preparing to walk away, but then he stopped almost immediately, ¡°I¡¯m going shopping after breakfast.  If you need to get anything,e tell me. I don¡¯t bite¡± He said and walked swiftly away.


    A pang of guilt flooded my whole body but I remained on the same spot, watching him go. He said he was going to give my favorite jambya to Maddie. Maddie must be that arrogant woman that mmed the door in my face the other day.


    Realizing that, I stomped after him. If anybody ha to have my food, it couldn¡¯t be Maddie. I would not take that.


    Petty or not, i did not care.


    He must have expected me toe back,  because he left his door open. He was in the dining room, eating alone.


    I slowly dragged my feet towards him and pulled out a chair to sit. He had a questioning look on his face.


    ¡°Maddie is that woman who works from home, right? Please don¡¯t give my food to her¡± I whispered,  making puppy eyes. Rooney started tough, almost choking on his food. He had to chug a ss of water before resumingughing again.


    ¡°Come and eat it then¡±. He said, opening the other bowl before him. ¡°Maddie hates jambya anyways¡± he added matter-of-factly.


    So, I started to eat with him, drowning myself in the delicious taste.


    ¡°So, are you not curious where I have been?¡±


    ¡°I am. I thought you were tired of having me as a neighbour and went on a vacation to ease your mind¡±


    ¡°Yeah you can be a handful sometimes, but you¡¯re still my neighbour¡±


    ¡°rissa¡± i deadpanned,  urging him to call me by my first name and not ¡®neighbour¡¯.


    ¡°Hi rissa, I¡¯m Rooney¡± he responded, stretching out his left hand for a handshake but I was notughing.


    ¡°I travelled home¡± he started, looking suddenly painfully, painfully serious.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡±


    ¡°No, mom is very sick¡±


    ¡°Oh I¡¯m sorry. I hope it¡¯s not that bad. I didn¡¯t know¡± I said, meaning every word, but he looked away, shaking his head as if he was trying hard to delete something from his memory.


    ¡°Do you need anything at the supermarket?¡± He tried to ease the tension when he saw me drop my fork.


    ¡°Yes, pads, footmats, curtains, food items, apple drinks, cucumber, pots, cutleries..¡± i paused to think, ¡± Rugs, Shower cap, hair gel, hair cream, blow-dryer¡­¡±


    ¡°Are you always this hrious?¡±


    ¡°I mean, I really need them¡± I said looking as serious as I could. ¡°I barely have anything here. Really. I need all the stuff I can get¡± Then he just stared at me, his face expressionless. I looked away but I could still feel his eyes on me, on my shoulder, my eyes, my mouth, my cleavage. My everything.


    Good Lord, I¡¯m crazy.  Definitely crazy.


    I could not hold his gaze for a long time and I did not know why.


    Maybe I was trying not to drown in them. They were like the ocean. Those eyes. Sometimes they screamed, ¡°Run! Run for your dear life!¡± But now, they are asking me to wait here and have a chat with this man.


    We really should say the truth sometimes- his eyes are drop-dead gorgeous and kind of friendly. Or maybe I¡¯m just crazy.


    He must be dangerous,  and I really should not trust this stranger or eat his meals or talk to him. Or let him in my house.


    Whenever I caught his stare, he usually felt temporarily familiar and I resisted every temptation to ask him if we¡¯ve ever met.


    He must have noticed because he looked away after a while, and said, ¡°Sorry¡±.


    It was barely above a whisper but i had heard him. And at that moment, I badly wanted to know what was on his mind.


    Maybe I looked like his mom-the sick one.


    Or I looked so much like shit he¡¯s wondering how foolish he must have been to let me into his clean royal-ish house.


    Must be thetter. I definitely looked shitty enough to be thrown out.


    When the silence was starting to get deafening and very embarrassing,  I just yed with my fork, careful not to let it fall for the second time, and then sipped my near-empty drink, wasting too much time swallowing.


    ¡°Are you andowner?¡± I blurted out before I could stop myself


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I mean.. err.. Maddie said.. like.. you owned this ce or something ¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? It¡¯s probably because I am a friend of the owner. ¡± he smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes, and he seemed to be a little embarrassed. So I did not push it.


    If he were a female, I would have been morefortable.  It¡¯s unfortunate that my first friend in New York¡¯s a guy- a guy who did everything I asked. Well, afterining and bugging me anyways.


    ¡°I need to use the bathroom¡± I said, advertently looking below his jaw,  when my drink got exhausted.


    I could feel him staring again, and sure enough, when I raised my head, he was indeed staring. ¡°I know I need to use the bathroom¡±


    He was quiet for a while and that was why I raised my head and caught him staring. ¡°Stop making me ufortable.  I know I look really messy¡± I said  matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Why were you drinkingst night?¡± He suddenly posed this unexpected question. The first time I had got drunk in my entire life, no one had asked me why, or gotten curious. Probably because they knew and didn¡¯t care. But, Rooney¡¯s question? The tone with which he asked was friendly enough for me to open up. Just a lil.


    ¡°I was trying to get over a memory¡± True but not the whole truth.


    ¡°Of course¡± he said. ¡°Must be a big one¡±


    ¡°Kinda¡± I said, ying with my fingers, and watching his eyes resting on them. I¡¯ve never been so nervous in my whole life.


    ¡°I have a memory I want to get over too. I think I should get drunk tonight¡±


    I looked at him questioningly but he did not continue. His eyes suddenly grew distant and I could swear I saw a ball of fire that was burning out already on his eyelid.


    ¡°Is it about your mom?¡±


    ¡°Did the drinking help?¡±


    Fine. We were counterattacking each other now. Fine.


    ¡°No. Almostnded me in trouble, that¡¯s if you didn¡¯te¡±


    ¡°Yeah, true. You should not get drunk ever again¡± he stood up and made to pack our tes but I took them from him.


    Our hands slightly brushed and I stood rigid for split seconds because I thought I had touched an electric socket- the one on the wall behind the dining chairs.


    ¡°Will you wait here for me?¡± He said, still pulling the tes. His voice was softer than usual, like he was exhausted or sleepy. ¡°I want to tell you about my mom¡±


    He was always nonchnt like he didn¡¯t just notice how I recoiled from the electric shock.


    I nodded, because he looked too vulnerable and somewhat sad.


    ¡°I will wait. I can¡¯t get into my apartment anyways¡±


    I felt like whatever he had going on, was definitely not something that anyone could easily erase, by chanting words of hope. The best I could do for him was let him rant to me, even if I had nothing to say because I could not rte or shit- he was kind enough to get a reciprocation from anyone.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you new keys from the supermarket ¡± he said, and he turned towards the front door. ¡°Don¡¯t leave the door open. I¡¯ll call your name when I get back¡±


    And I did as he instructed. I don¡¯t know,  but he kind of sounded apprehensive,  like someone might break in if I don¡¯t shut the door.


    I shut the door behind him and waited in his dining room.


    Everywhere looked like ss and silver and that made me too scared to touch anything or walk around his fine, fine house.


    Or I would have perused all the rooms because it looked like he did not lock his doors at all.


    Damn, it was fine as hell. Everything.

 SIXTEEN– BAD TIMING

    Gerald Hennessey, my boyfriend, did a lot of things that were very annoying but I will talk about the two most critical ones- he burped without covering his mouth and he called me at odd times, and thetter was exactly what he did, minutes after Rooney left for the supermarket.


    Gerald could literally call me at 3am asking that I switch my lights on, and then he would ask me to show him my melons, ask me if I¡¯ve locked my door, or he would probably just talk about his fantasies- airfreighting and sexual ones.


    He likes tough a lot and keep me online, even when I¡¯m knocked out and need to sleep. Those things he did that convinced me about his promise of visiting me in California soon.


    I shut my eyes for a second to visualize his surroundings and when I was rest assured he was home and alone, I took a breath.


    When i took his call, he said i sounded too rxed and then he asked that we switch to video call.


    ¡°Fuck¡± I cussed, looking for an angle in Rooney¡¯s house that looked like mine. Nothing was close. It was all ss. And Gerald would never understand if i told him I was at a neighbour¡¯s,  neither would he understand if i said I didn¡¯t want a video call at the moment.


    So I justid my head on the pir and spoke to him in that one angle.


    ¡°Hey¡±


    ¡°Where are you at?¡± His first question.  Goddammit.


    ¡°I lost my keys and my neighbour took me in for the meantime¡± I sighed, sounding stupid in my own ears.


    ¡°Lost your keys? Did you fight someone? You look like a mess. Your buttons are undone.. your¡­¡±


    ¡°No, candy. I actually left my keys at¡­ I.. ¡± I didn¡¯t want to tell him I got drunk again, so I just stuttered until I gave up. ¡°I just happened to misce them¡±


    ¡°Baby,¡± he began  ¡°I hate lies¡±Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    Come on, give the gold medal to Gerald.  Fucking liar. Biggest liar of the year. A fucking liar who ¡®hates¡¯ lies


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying, Gerald. I swear¡± I whispered, looking back when I thought I heard someone unlock the door. It was only Be, Rooney¡¯s cat- the one he brought from his travel- and she was nonchntly scratching the ss.


    ¡°How did you lose your keys? Don¡¯t make me hang up on you¡± He started to yell, as usual when he got angry.


    Gerald¡¯s anger is ugly.


    All of a sudden, I remembered how he pped me hard on my left cheek at the mall, back in California, a few years ago, because I hadn¡¯t taken his calls.


    pped me twice.


    ¡°You never care how worried I get about you¡± he had said and I had been too shocked to retort. I just stayed there and watched him leave. Thanks goodness there were few people walking that evening.


    When Jess hade to fetch meter that day, I told her I hit my head on the shelves and she had helped put ice on it.


    ¡°I was drunk. I don¡¯t remember how, I swear.. coz.. I was really high¡± I pinched the space between my eyebrows,  tucked my tummy in and took two breaths. If Gerald were there, he would be close to pping me.


    If I were Gerald, but not the cheating Gerald, I would be close to pping me too.


    ¡°You have been weirdtely. You sound off when I call you. You don¡¯t remember to text except I do first¡± he said.


    True.


    ¡°I am just stressed out¡± I blurted out.


    Very true too.


    ¡°From not working?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. My mind is all over the ce because I am not distracted by work at the moment¡±


    ¡°Your lies sound credible but I won¡¯t buy them¡± he said. I could literally hear him fuming and I just wanted to tell him to shut up, while listing all the things he had done that he didn¡¯t know I got a hold of.


    But I would just sound pathetic and it would not end well. Thest thing I wanted was to be a pile of teary mess when Rooney needed to talk to me.


    ¡°This is our problem,  Gerald. You never trust me¡±


    ¡°How can I believe you when you are so far away? Would you trust me if I was the one who packed my bags all of a sudden and left your life without giving rity as to why?¡±


    I swallowed a lump that suddenly formed in my throat.


    ¡°Or would you believe me if you video-called and I had on a messy hair, and a bare chest, resting on a pir in a house that¡¯s clearly not mine? ¡±


    ¡°Gerald, don¡¯t-


    ¡°What is it? Just tell me. Is it that stalker neighbour of yours? He fucks you real good, right?¡±


    I started to seethe just then and I inadvertently moved away from that angle. He saw the tes on the table and he shook his head.


    ¡°You can¡¯t tell me you have not fucked him yet. How can you not let me touch you all this time? It¡¯s all for him, right?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Gerald.  I ..¡±


    Holy crap, I need an excuse to get out of this.


    ¡°Send me your home address¡± he said. ¡°And if you want to save this rtionship, get your bitchy ass out of there in one minute ¡± and then he hanged up without giving me room to respond to him. He really didn¡¯t want me knocking around with my friendly, harmless neighbour.  How did he want me to survive then?


    ***


    As if he was monitoring me, Gerald called me back five minutester, when I was still typing my home address. I had to run out towards my own apartment before even hitting the send button.  I sat in the balcony and took the call.


    There was a lump at the back of my throat that was kind of strangely connected to the tear threatening to fall down my eye. So I did not swallow the lump.


    For some reason, his gaze seemed very fierce and I feared what mighte out of his mouth. I was visibly shaking even though he was not physically present.


    Jessie was right when she said he¡¯s the only person I listen to. I dont know why she doesn¡¯t understand even though she¡¯s in love too.


    ¡°You really can¡¯t get in?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t. See?¡± I tried to open my door but it wouldn¡¯t budge as expected. I showed him the rest of my body just to prove that i had been highst night, and his facial muscles rxed a little.


    ¡°I¡¯m just jealous. You don¡¯t even let me have that body, and I was just mad that one guy is getting all he wants out of it. It¡¯s freaking annoying¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sleeping with anyone, Gerald¡± I shrugged.


    Even my mom bugs me for my celibacy. Is it a bad thing to not want to be intimate with anyone, to not be ready to fuck with any of my admirers,  exes and even Gerald?


    ¡°I wille over soon, to make sure.¡± he deadpanned. He still didn¡¯tugh or smile.


    ¡°You areing to New York? When?¡± I swallowed the lump now. Another one formed right after.


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise¡± he said and turned in his bed.


    ¡°Why did you get drunkst night? Do you want to talk about it?¡±


    Just when i was about to tell him we¡¯d talk about thatter, and that he should go prepare for work already, Rooney appeared behind me, looking over my shoulder and directly into my screen, plus he was carrying a trolley of girl stuff, and Holy crap, I silently prayed that the ground should swallow me.


    He just hanged up without talking about it.


    That meant trouble. Gerald¡¯s silence is uglier than his anger. If Gerald already knew my home address like this, then he was going to fly down here and p me first, before anything.


    And i just stood there, holding my chest and grabbing my railings for support. Thest thing I wanted then was to have a panic attack before this stranger. So I tried walking away from him, not knowing where I was headed yet.


    My head suddenly felt very foggy and my heart started to beat very fast, so fast I thought it would drop if I didn¡¯t hold it.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± He asked, holding my shoulder and my phone crashed into the pavement.  ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± He asked again when he saw me struggling to breathe.


    He pulled me into himself and I could not resist him because I had no one to turn to anyways. ¡°It¡¯s okay, rissa. You will get through this, just like other days¡± he said, patting my back and I just sobbed into his chest. ¡°Don¡¯t be so scared about tomorrow, okay? We all have no idea how beautiful it¡¯s going to be- a fullpensation for our tough present. It is what I tell myself when I am down¡±.


    ¡°A fullpensation and blessing¡± he repeated.


    And that did it. My heartbeat returned to normal immediately my head touched his chest. The vibration of his chest when he talked and the way he just ran his mouth smoothly was second to none actually. It was the fastest I ever got out of a panic attack episode.


    I think strangers are angels.


    He carefully fished out a bunch of keys from the trolley and opened my door. Then he walked me in, and made sure I wasfortable.


    ¡°I am sorry about that guy. I could exin myself if you call him back¡±


    ¡°No, it will only spoil things. He¡¯s not mad. He just had to go real quick¡± I said, trying my best to not disclose the details of my rtionship.


    ¡°Then why are you crying?¡± He asked, half-hugging me and i didn¡¯t know if it was because he was warm, but I just wanted to remain there for a long time.

 SEVENTEEN– FALLING

    ¡°Maybe I should let you rant today. I will do mine next time¡± he said, passing an apple drink to me.  That instantly made me smile.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Really. You are doing too much for me¡± I said,  as a matter of fact. With just a sneak peek at the trolley, I knew that he had bought everything I asked for. It was enough to make my day


    ¡°I am notining.  I actually enjoy it¡±


    ¡°Thank you¡± I mumbled, knowing that it was true. He started to stare at me like before again, and I just excused myself.


    ¡°I need to use the bathroom¡± I went straight to my bathroom and left him there. When I was done, he was still there. He looked away when he realized I needed to dress up


    ¡°You keep saying that you need to use the bathroom¡± he argued. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Because you are staring too much. I know I look bad already but you make it worse by staring¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even realize I am¡± he said showing me his perfect set of teeth. He stood up to leave after, telling me that he had to go out, and that he would be back soon.


    ¡°Can you write your number in my phone?¡± He said, handing me his phone without looking.  I expected this long ago but i did not want to ask him first. ¡°I will bring Be, she gives the bestpany¡± he said, storming out.


    And sure enough, the cute, white ball of fur rushed in, a few minutester, with Rooney following behind her.


    ¡°Take care of yourself ¡± he said, giving me a friendly smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t disappear like the other time¡± I found myself saying and he just smiled and ced a hand on his chest. ¡°I won¡¯t¡±


    As soon as he left, my mood was dampened.


    His cat was just like him, except that it had green eyes like mine, and not turquoise like his. I never had a cat, but holding Be made me remember Tom, myte dog from many years ago. They were both friendly and warm. And I was tempted to walk him down the street.


    Be made some cute little noises and sat on my thighs while I sat before my dresser andbed my hair. Rooney had bought a whole lot of stuff and I would have to do a lot of arranging and rearranging. He got me curtains too- sky-blue and leaf-green matched together with a very creative mix.


    I didn¡¯t know how to hang curtains. Every curtain I owned in my room back in California was fixed by my dad.


    My dad was also the first tob my hair when i was born-my long, dark wavy hair, and I grew up letting only himb it. Sometimes, I would notb my hair until he got back from work and I got back from school. I wouldn¡¯t let anyone else touch it either.


    Mom said I would cry and run to daddy when it was time to get ready for school so that he would get me ready. I was his favorite and he was my favorite.


    When mom scolded me, I ran to him for sour and he would ask my mom to not nag me so much, because I could get scared of her in the future.


    ¡°If you want a child that will open up to you and not be so discreet about sensitive stuff happening in their lives, don¡¯t nag them. Scold them a while and then teach them. Be their friend, not a boss¡± he would always tell her, but mom enjoyed nagging me too much to let it stop.


    It took me two whole years of dating Gerald to let him touch my hair. He thought I was crazy when I yelled the first time he tried running his fingers down it.


    I can¡¯t ever get over my dad. Not now, not in the future. I will never get over his absence. Nothing can ever make me get over him. Nothing at all.


    He gave the best hugs. He gave the best advice, the best everything.


    I still cry my eyes out whenever I remember his smile. I have pictures of him kept away in my box-every picture of him I could find at home, and I¡¯ve not hung them since I got to New York, because I¡¯m scared it will be harder to move on, if I see his pictures everyday.   And everything just sucks all over again when I remember that I can¡¯t see him or touch him ever again.


    My dad made me promise that I would never be with anyone who showed less love than he did. If anything,  someone better or just as loving.


    My dad respected my mom a lot, t ook care of her so well and never d id anything to hurt her.


    He bought her presents randomly and it always made her day. Their marriage was a very beautiful one. I wouldn¡¯t ever believe that they ever argued except that on a few asions, I heard mom raising her voice at him and all he did was say, ¡°Calm down, babe. Let¡¯s talk this over. The children should not hear us¡±. I respected him a hundred times more after then.


    He made me promise when I was fifteen to only be with a man that cared about me.


    My dad and I talked about everything.  Girl stuff. Periods. Pregnancy. Tests. Career. Books. Movies. Health. Eating good food and exercising- since he was a doctor. Every damn thing. Things I could never think of telling my mom.


    Dad gave me six checklists for a good guy, and ording to him, these are ways to know if a guy is good enough to be with.


    ¡°No guy is perfect.  Youing to his life will make it perfect, but he has to have a hint of these six. These six things are a picture of what real love looks like. Otherwise, tell him to go work on himself and thene backter¡±


    Dad said if he didn¡¯t have all six, he was definitely not okay for me. He also taught me to work on myself so that the man who had all six would find me.


    ¡°A man who has all six will note if you do not possess them yourself. They also look for women thatplement them. So, be a good woman and sit right there waiting¡± he usually told me.


    ¡°A man who is patient or tolerant, ready to go the mile, honest, supportive, respectful, and kind, is the potential partner figure that anyone should get right¡±


    Then I would ask him how he managed to be with mom, when she was clearly not a patient woman.


    ¡°I learnt to tolerate her¡± he simply responded.


    Most times after school, he¡¯d call me into the orchard where we both nted beetroots, and there, he would give me a long, interesting lecture about boys and girls, or about science and mankind, or God and mankind, health and wealth, mental health and physical health.


    Jessie got jealous at a point and she invited herself into our discussions,  but I mostly had my dad to myself.


    I looked up to hugging him and having a fun time with him everyday after school.


    He was the only one who knew about my first kiss, and he guided me with words, and especially mentioned that I should not throw myself at anyone, because ¡°I am amazing¡±, and men who had eyes to see that woulde on their own.


    ¡°It¡¯s better to be single than to be with an asshole who sucks all your happiness away¡± he had told me.


    And so when he died, I went numb for a long, long time. I yelled at everyone that tried to talk to me, and flung every object Iid my eyes on, out my window. The world seemed a little toorge and scarier because he was gone.


    And mom transferred all her pain on me too. It was like we werepeting to see who felt his absence the most- Me or her.


    Stephan was just neutral. Like I said, I think he might be a sadist or just very unfeeling.


    ¡°Stop acting like you¡¯re the only one who lost him. You have no idea how hopeless I feel at the moment, losing such a good man¡± her actions seemed to say. And so, instead of helping me get over him, she made me remember him every single day until I had to leave because I was really losing it.Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    Mom and I argued every single day and she tried to hit me every single time.


    We were always arguing about dad, and we med each other for his death in a way. It was pathetic but we couldn¡¯t help ourselves.


    I was really hurting.


    It is why I can¡¯t leave Gerald. My dad loved him. He looked and acted like my dad. Called me Rissa,bed my hair, said nice things, gave great hugs and so on.


    When he started hitting me and yelling at me and cheating on me all at once, I still stuck. Told no one about it because I was scared he would hurt me for telling on him.


    Because I can¡¯t leave him. Because I should not. He is my dad, just not the dead one.


    ¡°I should call him¡± i told myself, bringing my mind back to reality. ¡°He loves me, so he will forgive me¡± It was my go-to use.


    When I tried to stand up, I noticed Be was no longer on my thighs.


    Holy crap


    I started to look for her everywhere but I could not find her. My front door had been slightly open when I got lost in thoughts, and so I was scared she had run out into the street.


    I almost started to dial Rooney¡¯s number but then I remembered he had mine, and I didn¡¯t  have his- I would need to wait for his call.


    ¡°I can¡¯t lose her¡± I prayed. ¡°Please Lord. I can¡¯t lose his cat¡±


    I ran down the street before realizing that I should have checked his ce first. His call came in when I was running back home, without Be.


    ¡°Why are you panting?¡±


    ¡°Be¡­ I can¡¯t find her. I was ..¡±


    ¡°She must be home, around her litter box. I put some food for her there¡± he said,  cutting in and setting my mind at ease.


    ¡°Breathe in and out, rissa¡± For some reason,  he sounded like he himself needed that technique first. His voice was a little hoarse, like he had been crying for  thirty minutes straight.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ she reminds me of myte dog. I can¡¯t afford to lose her. Are you okay though?¡±


    ¡± I won¡¯t be home tonight. Mom is in the hospital¡±


    I figured.


    ¡°Oh¡± I said,ing to a standstill. ¡°I am so sorry..¡± I didn¡¯t know what else to say really.


    ¡°Be safe, rissa. Bye now¡± he said and hanged up. I suddenly felt very foolish and insensitive for worrying so much about his cat that I forgot about how he was feeling.


    Sure enough, when I got to his balcony, Be was there, purring in a corner where her littery, but she seemed a little different and less bubbly.


    ¡°Come here, sweetheart ¡± I said to her but she was not moving. She seemed somewhat frightened but I did not see any sign of a predator nearby.


    ¡°Are you okay, sweetheart?¡± I asked, but she just hung her head low and stared at a distance. She must have felt that her owner was in a bad situation. Same way Tom my dog, did all the time I was crying, those many years ago.  He usually sat on my dresser and stared at me, looking very concerned and sad.


    I picked her up and trotted back to my own apartment with so much worries on my mind. Was he going to be okay? His mother must be really sick. It also seemed to be a terminal disease. If she died, would he ever talk to me the way he used to, or evene back at all? Or would his eyes lose the bubbly colour i used to see in them? I asked myself.


    When I closed the door behind me and sat at my desk, It didn¡¯t take me too long to realize that I had something bigger to worry about, and that was the state of my rtionship.


    I should apologize to my boyfriend but I was scared he would not take my calls, or maybe he would just yell so much I would have to nurse a panic attack again. Alone this time.

 EIGHTEEN– REDDISH-GREEN FLAGS

    I unlocked my phone and started to send a text to my boyfriend, after breathing in and out twice. I pretended like i wouldn¡¯t give a damn about whatever he would say, but I really was dead scared he might break up with me.


    He had threatened to leave me once, while my dad was still alive- I can¡¯t remember what my offence was- and I had apologized like crazy, and promised him I would try my best to be a better girlfriend, if he would just give me another chance.


    I was going to live with the guilt forever if he did break up with me this time- the guilt of leaving him alone in California and starting life somewhere else on my own, without exactly carrying him along.


    I really wouldn¡¯t take that if Gerald did that to me. Truth be told.


    I was going to scratch open the wounds from my grief too.


    No one would give me long tight hugs or tell me how gorgeous and amazing I- or my butt- looked anymore.


    No one would call me to ask about how work is going, and if i have had any breakfast yet. Or if I was faring well all alone.


    Because Jessie is getting married soon, and we might not get to be as close as we were in our childhood,  because life goes on, right?


    And I was definitely going to get my panic attacks like a doctor¡¯s prescription- one in the morning,  one in the noon, one at night.


    The list goes on and on. My life would definitely suck all over again, and I might end up in a bar every miserable day, purposely drinking the hell out of my life, and not giving two fucks about whatever bad guy ended up carting me away.


    ¡°God, I¡¯m tired. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing here but I can¡¯t go back. You know I just can¡¯t ¡± I soliloquized,  trying to hold myself together.


    The peace I badly wanted to get from my solitude never actually came yet .


    Instead, my solitude drowned me into itself every day, sometimes leniently because it came with free meals and kind gestures from a stranger, and other times, it was just hell. Pure, undiluted hell.


    All of a sudden, the empty space I called my apartment hugged me tightly, and everywhere felt too small to hold my thoughts. Sometimes, like that afternoon, it felt like the walls were closing in onme.


    I would probably be talking with my neighbour now, about why I got drunk the other day, or he would be talking about how sick his mom was, but it was not happening, and so I felt so alone.  Even Be was not willing to y with me.


    I decided to text all of my loved ones at once, and distract myself with their responses, positive or not.


    Me to Jessie: Hey, bestest. How¡¯s working along?


    Me to Mom: Guess what? I made a friend and he¡¯s the kindest ever! Oops, spilled the beans!?? , you have to roast me carefully about this, okay?


    Me to Stephan: Give me some headlines, little bro. I miss you loads,  I promise.


    Me to Gerald: Baby, I am truly sorry about the other time. I know you are mad at me right now, but i wish you¡¯d just trust me this once. Please don¡¯t give me the silent treatment.  Yell at me all you want; you have all the right to be upset about the whole situation. I love you, candy, and I hope you remember that.


    Jessie replied first. ¡®Got my first customer already but I am not opening up the confectionery until after the grand opening. Are youing?¡¯


    Me: ¡®Congrats, bestest. (Inserts three wink ? ? ? emojis ) Big win for us. I¡¯m definitelying- what are you talking about? Ending of next month, right?¡¯


    Jessie: Yassss. Can¡¯t wait, ssy. (Inserts love? ? emojis) How¡¯s you and Gerald?


    As if Gerald heard his name, he sent back a text. My heart skipped six beats at once and I almost dropped my phone. So I went toy on my bed


    Candy?:¡±I love you too, my bitch. So make me stop thinking about ending us¡±


    His response was not as bad as I thought it would be. He did call me his bitch sometimes. Not that it sat exactly right with me, but it was better than he calling our rtionship off.


    And my response was just as fitting.


    Me to Candy?: What would you have me do?


    Candy?: Be my bitch. Do anything I want you to do, love. That¡¯s all.


    The next thing that¡¯d pop on my screen was a picture Gerald sent to me.


    I knew what was in there without downloading it, and his video-call after, confirmed my thoughts.


    I was not able to check Jessie¡¯s texts because he didn¡¯t let me do anything else other than talk to him, while he had his dick in his hands, and asked me to watch him wank.


    It was the first time he¡¯d ever do this, and I just couldn¡¯t help but look, because it was what he wanted.


    ¡°I will be with you soon, I promise¡± he said right after jerking off. It did nothing other than repulse me but I masked it real good.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    ¡°All right,  Gerald¡± I couldn¡¯t bear to call him by his pet name after the image he just put in my head, by force and that would haunt me forever, and that I¡¯d never admit to myself or to anyone.


    When I checked Jessie¡¯s textster, I knew I would cry myself to sleep with everything that happened.


    Jessie: ¡®Girl, something happened close to my confectionery today.


    ¡­ This guy was trying to hit on my first customer, after she bought a couple of cupcakes and left , and we had to go talk sense into him coz he looked like he really was going to take an advantage of her if we left them alone.


    ¡­


    I don¡¯t know,  he kinda looks like your Gerald. He has the same dragon tattoo on his neck. I didn¡¯t see his face coz he left as soon as my cleaner threatened to call the police.


    ¡­


    Long story short, ssy. He¡¯s your Gerald. My cleaner took a picture in case it might be neededter


    ¡­


    Hey, babes. Are you okay? I wasn¡¯t trying to hurt you. I will keep telling you as your best friend, and hopefully you get it before it gets toote- Gerald Hennessey is a freaking asshole who¡¯s no good for you.¡¯


    She sent each texts five minutes apart. And I justy in bed staring at my screen and unable to respond or react. Apart from the fact that I already knew Gerald to be a big, fat lying cheat, how the hell did Jessie know it was him?


    I had never shown her him.


    I was torn between calling him and matter-of-factly stating that he should kill the idea of visiting me, or confronting him with the usation straight up.


    He was definitely going to deny it. I decided there and then to not think about it or make a decision yet until the next day.


    I think I¡¯llknock offfor the evening and go to bed. I said to myself


    I walked to my drawer and fetched my sleeping pills. I¡¯ve always had them, and I took a whole lot of them from home. I just didn¡¯t take them as frequently as I used to, because they seemed to have stopped working for me.


    Setting Be on my couch- the one in my living room, and locking the doors, I went back to my room toy down. I was going to y some music too so that the pills would work faster. Honestly if I did not that quickly enough, I¡¯d do regrettable things.  I¡¯d totally lose my goddamn mind.


    Vibing to the sonorous, reassuring voice of Mia¡¯s Mountains And Hills, my mind started to gradually carry itself away. I could not help re-reading Jessie¡¯s texts in my head. I could not wipe off the image of my boyfriend¡¯s wanking either. It was too much, way too much.


    Trying to distract myself by arranging the stuff my neighbour got for me didn¡¯t help either. I was either flinging them or squeezing them in my palms.


    He was going to see the mess I made of everything when he got back, and if i didn¡¯t do anything about it.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± I yelled, ruffling my hands through my hair. I badly needed a hug. No, i needed more than a hug- maybe a reassuring kiss, a way out.


    Anything that¡¯d take those images away, instantly. A freaking way out. I literally didn¡¯t think i could pull through that night on my own.


    Mia¡¯s song was helping, just not so much, because my mind was choosing not to listen. I was just making do with lyrics already ingrained in my mind.


    It talked about how mountains and hills will never give way except we climbed it, or over it and continued our journey. It talked about how descending was way easier, and that ascending was a tad too challenging.


    ¡®Get too tired of ascending but descending is running back to the hell you once was¡¯


    That line really fit my life and i knew I could never afford to descend, go back to my old life or give up trying to prove the world wrong.


    ¡°rissa,  dad would be proud of you if he were here. That gotta be enough motivation for tonight¡± I soliloquized, sighing in betweens and taking deep breaths.


    I honestly think people who soliloquized once in a while might find life a little less challenging than those who never did.


    The vibration that paused Mia¡¯s song midway jerked me out of my soliloquy. It was Rooney.


    ¡®Mom¡¯s stable for now. Doc¡¯s administering meds¡¯  My lips creased into a big smile that stayed there for many seconds. I literally smiled, genuinely.


    It suddenly felt like my problem was not that big because his mom was getting better, and that meant that he would he fine.


    That was weird, but it is what it is. If Rooney was happy, then I definitely would enjoy his kindness more often. With every help he rendered, it kind of madeing to New York,  a little more interesting than it was scary.


    ¡®You asleep huh?¡¯


    His next text reminded me that I was in the reality. One thing was sure about texting him- I was going to fall asleep,  feeling good about myself.  And that was a good thing.


    Me:¡¯That¡¯s good news. At least I get to see you around more often. I hope she gets discharged soon enough¡¯


    Neighbour:¡¯That¡¯s a little selfish. What if I want to stay back here and watch over her for a whole month?''(Inserts ? a  smirk emoji)


    Me:¡¯ Oops okay now, i didn¡¯t mean to be selfish. Guess I just naturally suck at saying words that make people feel good (Inserts fake tears ? ? )


    Neighbour: Are you okay? I was teasing you


    One minuteter- rissa?


    Four minutes more- Hey, are you there?


    I had already started to fall asleep at this juncture, so,  I did not see the texts until he called. Lucky for him my ringtone could wake the dead or I wouldn¡¯t have seen that too.


    I truthfully told him I swallowed some sleeping pills, because I wanted to sleep over a problem,  and he told me that we would talk about that whenever he got back. And then I switched off my phone because hisst statement was the only thing I wanted in my head while I fell asleep.


    ¡®Hang in there, rissa¡¯

 NINETEEN– MORE HILLS TO CLIMB

    Days passed again and i was very excited to resume work. I ignored Wills when he gave me a tricky look and feigned a cough as I passed by his office. Whatever he saw, he had to deal with it.


    When he openly asked me after work, if I made any friends yet, I simply asked, ¡®Does my nosy neighbour count?¡¯ and walked away in a not-so polite way.


    I hate it when people lecture me about having a social life. If only they knew I had Jessie. And that she was better off than having a truckload of friends.


    People are too mean to be kept close.  Finding one who¡¯s actually not mean is a blessing- Wills probably had no idea how amazing it was, to find one you could keep.


    One who¡¯s not mean, and a friend whose life is void of every schadenfreude there is in the human circle. Or a stranger like that.


    The rest of the weeks after my leave was hectic. We had more clients lodging in,  anding to sign documents- both international figures and locals, so much that the bone in my wrist painfully cracked at the end of every day but it was worth it.


    I was basically writing, smiling, nodding and signing documents non-stop, and rting very well with all our clients.


    It pleased Wills because he shook my hands during lunch break for a tad too long time, and even offered to buy me dinner- something he never told his P. A


    ¡°Wills, I have a boyfriend, a freaking hot boyfriend. Well, he¡¯s yet to put a ring on it but I¡¯m certain it¡¯ll be pretty soon¡± I told him, and he just shook his head, repeating, ¡°You realize I¡¯m your boss, rissa?¡± as if it were a nursery rhyme he got addicted to.


    ¡°Yes, boss. I¡¯ll just have dinner in my house, all alone. Thank you¡± I said and I thought I heard his personal assistantugh. The others just shook their heads and buried their heads in theirputers. They didn¡¯t have the kind of rtionship I had with Wills Taylor.


    Even I do not understand how easy it was for me, to p back at him like that.


    How I talked to him sometimes was enough to get me fired, but I just did not care sometimes, and oh my, he took my nonchnce with levity and grace, backing it up with ridiculous threats- ones that wouldn¡¯t even move a kid.


    After work, on the day Wills asked me to dinner, I was walking to the bus station to catch a early bus back home, when a scene began to y right next to me.


    I would never expect that kind of stuff to have happened so close to me.


    A man who was probably in his early thirties and dressed in a longish, bluish gimcrack coat, was dragging, not holding a rapunzel-I mean she had really loooooong hair- by her hand. She also seemed to be limping.


    It was pretty easy dragging such a well-builtdy since he was such a longimanous creature, as in he had terribly long, big hands.


    Dont me me. I think I¡¯ve been noticing things more quickly and intently since I relocated. Or maybe everything seemed too ¡®long¡¯ and ¡®big¡¯ to not be noticed.


    Anyways, Their feet, I mean the longish couple¡¯s feet were moving so swiftly down the road I could barely catch every move, but I sure could hear him faintly cussing under his breath.


    At a time, he stopped pulling her hands, and he just dragged her hair in a way that it must have really hurt.


    I could not catch thedy¡¯s expression because the hair was covering most of her face.


    And to be candid, if not for the hair and the limping, I would say she looked pretty familiar- i knew someone back in college who had that same exact butt, skin color and build. That person was someone I could never forgive because of what they did to me.


    The man¡¯s other longish hand, the free one was balling into a fist and I could see his veins popping in his wrists. I didn¡¯t know this couple, but whatever they were arguing about must be really, really nerve-wracking.


    He dragged her hair down the alley away from the bus station, and I just could not take my eyes off them as they disappeared into that alley.


    I looked at my watch and realized it was ten minutes past 6pm already.  I still had time before the second bus arrived.


    So I followed them stealthily,  acting like I also had something to do in the alley. I didn¡¯t know if it was from the fact that I could rte with this- Gerald hit me sometimes- or because I was curious to see thedy¡¯s face.


    I walked a couple of minutes before I turned to hide somewhere because I saw them stop too, somewhere in between some trees.


    The guy pushed her to her knees, but she fell stomach down, and then he looked around to see if it was safe.


    I mean, they were in a pretty enclosed area, so I bet he had at least five good minutes before someone else could catch them ¨C the alley was technically peopleless.


    I was panting because he looked like he could be a serial killer.  Now i could see how visibly shaken thedy was.


    He snatched her walking stick and started  to batter her back, with it. He was still cussing,shingly, and I just wanted to go out there and do something.


    It was not a good thing that she took all theshing without yelling.


    But I did not know if he was dangerous, if he would hurt me too, if i should call the police, or just mind my business.


    I think i stood there for five whole minutes watching him do that to her,  and I felt so so bad.


    It didn¡¯t take a lot of time to convince me that i had to call the police, when I saw him scoop her up in one swift move, and then proceeded to fuck her against a tree.


    Immediately my call was taken and they asked what my emergency was, I stood there, speechless because then, she turned and looked in my direction, her face replete with powerlessness. And I let myself register her facial features that moment.


    Enid?


    She was yelling but it was stifled by hisrge hands on her mouth, while he thrust into her violently and repeatedly.


    And it was the one person i could never, ever forgive.T¨ºxt belongs to N?velDrama.Org.


    ¡°Hello, how may we help you?¡±


    ¡°Sorry¡± i simply said and hanged up. Then without giving myself a chance to think it over, I turned back towards the road and ran all the way to the bus station.


    ***


    When I got home, I rushed into the shower immediately, trying to wash off the scene of Enid¡¯s assault from my head.


    I will never forgive Enid Heather.


    I spent an hour under the shower telling myself I would never forgive her for what she did to me in College. The memories from that day began to rush through my mind and it felt fresh once more.


    Getting out of the shower only brought me closer to my guilt. And instead of a feeling of relief from taking vengeance on your assant,  I felt so much guilt instead. Guilt from running from my fears,  guilt from ignoring Rooney when he waved,  as I barged into my apartment, but mostly guilt from my past.


    No, I felt mostly anger- full blown rage that could burn down, and reduce a building into rubbles, except that it was burning my heart instead. Because of my past¡¯s incursion into my present.


    I should have helped her. I should have saved Enid from that predator. No matter what she had done to me in the past.


    I should not have taken to my heels. Dad wouldn¡¯t do that. He would have saved her if he were me.


    ¡°Oh no¡± I sighed, wondering what situation she was in at that moment. Maybe she would never find help and he would eventually kill her quietly, after having his fill from her body.


    Because I chose not to save her.


    She had seen me. I was not sure if she recognized me from that distance, and for the split seconds our eyes met, but she had seen me. It¡¯ll forever be registered in her head that someone who had a chance to save her, fled instead of saving her.


    Still I couldn¡¯t have brought myself to do it. I would have ruined it anyways. Because she did not deserve it. She did not deserve to be helped by me.

 TWENTY– SOUND OF SILENCE

    Iid on my bed that night, rolling from side to side, uncertain about how to free myself from my reality. If Dad were alive, I¡¯d have gone to him for help. He always knew what to do, unlike me who always needed people to help me out of a predicament.


    My past caught up with me every damn time, and I was never ready for once. You see that thing they say about karma catching up with someone, i¡¯ve never actually believed it. I always thought it¡¯s a sheer bunch of fiddle-faddle.


    Until I saw Enid Heather who ruined my life three years ago, getting her life ruined too, or at least her body.


    The only person I could actually talk to in that situation was Jessie, but the poor young woman was busy preparing for her marriage and the grand opening of her confectionery.


    I was always the one with problems- rtionship problems, panic attacks, mom-and-daughter issues, assaulting mess and so on. She never once had those issues, or so it seemed, and even if she never made me feel like a burden, I think I kind of was.


    If I had her type of mother, maybe I wouldn¡¯t disturb her so much, but my own mother would nag you about the most footling stuff, question your every move, and remind you about your every dirty past, in the most unsettling way, while still ying the victim.


    ¡°Ugh, goddammit ¡±


    I kept rolling on the bed, fiddling with my phone and getting agitated about whether to dial Jessie¡¯s number or not.


    I was sensing chills down my spine, and my forehead was starting to sweat. Jessie and i had already talked that day for about an hour before I left for work, but now I needed her again. Maybe my bed was not cut out for stress, or I was just too overwhelmed to rx my mind, either ways, I believed that if I was in Rooney¡¯s bed like the other day, I¡¯d probably be asleep already.


    I got up and sat before my dresser, ignoring thepany of my rumbling tummy and my clock¡¯s ticking.


    My reflection stared back at me in the mirror and all I wanted to do was yank her out of there and tear her into pieces. I saw it in my eyes, all the time. My green eyes carried all the weight of my yesterday,  and oddly, I felt like I had to gouge out those eyes in order to delete the bad memories.


    Iid my head on the dresser and let the tears out. I wish I could turn back the hands of the clock- some things would definitely have happened differently if i had a second chance. But I would never get one. So I had to deal with it.


    I think I was there in that position for three hours and a half because when my rm rang for 10pm bedtime, and my phone beeped a million times, I stillid there, unmoving. I felt too ashamed to face the world, even though i was alone and the world was literally minding their business right then.


    A soft knock on the door pulled me back into real life, but i did not raise my head because, the mirror was thest thing I wanted to see at that moment.


    It was Rooney, and I was too exhausted from crying and starving to push him away. He just pulled my couch closer to the dresser andid his head on the table like i was doing.


    I did not see him but, I felt and heard his every move. He was eerily quiet and that made mefortable, because noise, and the mirror were thest things i needed then. He did not utter a word but I heard him take my phone briefly, perhaps looking for a hint.  My eyes darted around his features that were visible from my posture- his legs. I looked closely and saw that he had six toes on his right feet. Six toes. I shut my eyes and opened them, counting again. Yes, they were six.


    My pajama bottoms was drenched in my tears, and he saw it. I kind of liked how he just gave me some peace andpany in silence.


    We were there like that,  me feeling his hot breath on a side of my ear, and he sheerly studying my vulnerable self, for thirty good minutes. Thirty minutes of unspoken words. Just silence and calm.


    Around 10:30pm if I¡¯m not mistaken, he reached for my shoulder and made me lift my head. I had never been so exhausted in my life- I could not even talk because my throat was dry. I had not had a drink or a meal in hours.


    Rooney covered my face with one of his hands before he pulled me into a somewhat close-knit hug.


    And I just remained there, breathing in his heavenly smell and listening to his heartbeat synchronizing with the tremors in my chest and stomach.  I counted the lines on his abs with the movement of my head. He was toned with all the six packs and sturdy chest, and thinking about that when my world was falling apart, was a good distraction for me.


    He patted my back many times too.  I didn¡¯t know who disengaged first, but we both were apart again a few minutes after.


    ¡°I know it¡¯ste, but, will youe join me in my portico for supper?¡± He asked with a small smile stered on his lips.


    Then he left without waiting for my answer. There were so many questions in his eyes that definitely required a good meal to begin asking.


    I hurriedly ran under the shower, and technically scrubbed my skin for a few minutes, then I ran across my living room in the buff.


    Still in the buff, I returned to my room to rub myself. It was like I was preparing for a date. It was not Rooney¡¯s first time of asking me to a meal, but this time, it felt like it was a proper, real date, and as soon as I slipped in a simple evening dress, i could feel tension taking over my excitement in the air.


    I really must be going crazy. Or perhaps I already was, the day i packed my bags and left California.


    I didn¡¯t believe in voodoo but now I started to believe it, because even though I knew this guy had the tendency of hurting me, I still walked out of my house and towards his.


    ¡°Thank you¡± i said, as I sat across from him. He was too silent and it now made me a little ufortable.


    ¡°You know why i covered your face the other time?¡± He said, boring his turquoise eyes into my green.


    I nodded, even though I wasn¡¯t so sure.


    ¡°You knew I came in, but you clearly did not want anyone seeing you in that state.


    So i thought of how to assure you that I was not there to stare at you in that state, but tofort you. That¡¯s why I covered your face¡± he exined and I tried to stop myself from blushing. Enid Heather¡¯s assault scene was now in a forgotten room in the building in my head.


    ¡°Thank you¡± i said again.


    ¡°Eat¡± he pleaded. And then with the most humorous move, he nk his cutleries on the te and shoved it in the cheeseburger. I had to stifle augh but he saw it.


    ¡°Laughter looks good on you, rissa. You need to show your perfect teeth more often¡±


    His meals were therapeutic, delicious and mouthwatering.  Okay they mean the same thing, but is there any other word more sumptuous than ¡®mouthwatering¡¯?


    Give it to Rooney Wayne¡¯s cuisine, puh-leeze.


    ¡°Are you a chef or something? You cook so well¡± God knows I i did notpliment him that night, I¡¯d drown myself to sleep with a deeper guilt.


    Damn, his cuisine was so perfect that I got green with envy each time


    ¡°Oh my goodness ¡± heughed and i wondered if I had said something stupid.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for this. You never said it was nice, so I thought I had turned bad at it¡±.  He said, taking off his sweatshirt and handing it to me. It came as a surprise to me, so I just stared at him in disbelief.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.. you look like you are cold¡± he said matter-of-factly. ¡°And you don¡¯t look like you have any sweatshirts¡± It was literally a bit chilly. So I took it and slipped it on. ¡°That¡¯s very sensitive of you ¡± I mouthed a small smile and looked away quickly because his eyes were everywhere on my body. Or it always seemed so.


    And yeah, he was right. I had no sweatshirts.


    ¡°So I was saying that you neverplimented my cooking until now¡± he said carefully, still assessing me.


    ¡°Oh it¡¯s just too good I forget to pass ament, sorry¡± i had tough too. ¡°So, are you a chef?¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you. I like to think I am¡± he blushed


    ¡°Are you , or are you not? Don¡¯t y with me¡± I mumbled. My phone was back in my room so I would never know about my texts until muchter.


    ¡°I am a chef, rissa,  and you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯m a woman who¡¯s awfully attached to her dad¡± I said, in between mouthfuls. He did not care that i was disobeying table etiquettes. I think I was giddy from the lovely smell on his sweats.


    ¡°I guess he must be so lucky to have such a lovely woman as a daughter¡± he said.


    ¡°Well, he died. So¡­¡±


    He dropped his cutlery and his countenance changed. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s been years¡± i said, trying to move over the topic. Or the image of my dad sitting me on his thighs when I was six would return, or hebing my lush hair when I was fifteen and below.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not, because I lost my dad too. And that initiated my mom¡¯s illness¡± he said, as if he was trying to tread a safe path. ¡°She can¡¯t get over him¡±


    I simply listened to him talk, with utter shock because i didn¡¯t know to respond, but it was mostly for the fact that, it was the exact same thing happening to me.


    ¡°She can¡¯t get over him, and she doesn¡¯t even want to¡± he sighed and I just stared at him. His turquoise eyes looked distant for a minute.


    ¡°She¡¯s a shadow of herself,  literally. Turns out she¡¯s been keeping secrets, secrets that involve herte husband, but she doesn¡¯t want to open up. Not to me, my other brother or to her therapist. No one at all. And the secrets are eating her alive¡± he shrugged.


    ¡°We have tried everything¡±


    In that moment, all I could do was stay silent.


    ¡°She cuts her skin, does not eat until we force food down her throat, does not talk to anyone..¡± he paused to wipe a threatening tear off his eyelids.  He really needed that pause because he was a little out of breath.


    ¡°Does not have friends, stays indoors all day, silent and looking out the window. She runs away sometimes and when we find her, she¡¯s..¡± he stopped, and chugged a ss of juice quickly.


    I made a face that meant it was okay for him to talk about it or not talk about it.


    ¡°She just wants to die.¡± He said with a tone of finality. It appeared he was starting to get emotional because he stopped doing everything including staring at me, for many seconds.


    ¡°I feel that way too. I can¡¯t exactly rte to your mom¡¯s predicament,  but I honestly feel like dying sometimes. Giving up, I mean. And I also can¡¯t get over my dad¡± I stopped to catch his reaction.  He was looking at me and his eyes were sullen.


    ¡°My mom can¡¯t get over him too. But in this case, she doesn¡¯t mope around or stay indoors. She nags me instead. Pours all her aggression on me. Kills my esteem. She nags me everyday, so much that I began to hate her early night life. I still hate her¡± I stopped, willing myself to continue but no words came out.


    ¡°I know she¡¯s hurting¡± I said, my voice breaking.


    ¡°That¡¯s her coping mechanism?¡± Rooney whispered, softly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to believe it. She¡¯s been like this before he died. It only got a lot worse is all¡±


    ¡°rissa¡± he folded his hands on the table and peered into my face without any shyness.  ¡°Sometimes when we get tired of running, because our past catches with us, and because running makes us exhausted, we sometimes find something that brings a little streak of light into our predicament, and reminds us that we are not alone and that the future is bright.Published by N?v''elD/rama.Org.


    A streak of light that makes us hold on to a tiny thread of hope or no hope at all.


    That light that makes us want to continue living and growing, because we don¡¯t want to be gone and as a result, be unable to see the light like we used to¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot¡±


    ¡°I think I have found that something.¡± He said, focusing all his attention on me. I did not quite understand him, so I just listened.


    ¡°It keeps me going. It gives me life and radiance, it exemplifies nature and beauty. Makes me believe that there¡¯s light at the end of the tunnel.


    Most especially and oddly,  it makes me strongly believe that my mom will be fine¡±


    ¡°I am so happy about that¡± I simply said, smiling. I thought I saw his eyes dte that moment or maybe I was imagining it.


    ¡°It¡¯s weird seeing this something, and the next thing I¡¯m thinking is that life is beautiful, even with all its ills.¡±


    ¡°And, I want to keep this something around me forever, because it is a treasure, and deserves to be kept safe¡±


    Rooney got up and walked up to me all of a sudden,  then he picked my hand and walked me back to my apartment.


    I did not question him. I just let him do anything he wanted. I guess that¡¯s the voodoo working.


    After tonight, i subconsciously registered it in my mind that he was controlling me and i was doing his bidding without my knowledge.


    I would try every means after tonight to avoid talking to him, even if it meant moving out of this ce.


    He rubbed my hands and that simple act made me lean into him a little closely. And I shook within me.


    ¡°First, I must pretend that his voodoo is not working, and that I am doing this of my own free will. I must let him know somehow¡± I thought. ¡°This guy is indeed dangerous.  He stalks me and also controls me from the spiritual realm¡± I inwardly concluded.


    I looked down at his feet and confirmed that there were actually six toes on his feet. Six toes wedged together. Except you counted them,  you would think they were the regr five.


    I waited to feel something as I stared at it and counted again. But I did not feel anything.


    And i did not scream too.


    When we reached my door, he did not open it,  neither did he ask me to.


    Instead, he faced me and said, ¡°Have you found your something? I hope you do¡± Then he gave me a brief side hug and walked away without saying goodnight.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!