Incognito Tab (COMPLETE)

6. Archiving

I turn on my computer and let it boot up. I go to the cupboard beneath the sink, grab the bag of dog food there and pour some onto Flipper's bowl. I walk back over to my computer and start to sit down when I hear knocking at my door. I glance over at it and listen carefully. 

"I know you're in there," a familiar annoyed voice hollers. "The girl next door, told me so."

Darlene?

I turn off my computer screen, walk over and open the door. She strolls in right past me and I close the door behind her.

"Darlene," I say looking at her. "What are you doing here?" She throws her arms around me and I do the same hugging her firmly. 

"I was worried about you," she conveys. She lets go, punches me in the shoulder and walk over to my couch. She takes her bag from over her shoulder and tosses it down and has a seat. She looks up at me.

"I came looking for you and you were no where to be found. I even checked your job." Darlene tosses a few locks of her chestnut brown hair from her face. "Where were you?"

"I," I stammer. 

"She said you came back with cuts and bruises on your face." She stands and steps to me looking in my eyes. Her wide eyes peer into mine, as they did when she explained what really happened to me when I first stopped taking my meds. "Please tell me you know where you were."

"I don't." 

That's it. It's happening again. I still have no idea where I was or what I may or many not have done. You and I both know this is not the first time.

________

Later that evening...

"Elliot," I hear from just outside my door. I open it. Maeve stands in my doorway wearing black sequence halter top with a long skirt that begins just above her hips and ends an inch off the floor leaving part of her abdomen exposed. She has a thin sheer black scarf draped over her shoulders. She stands nearly as tall as I am on heels, I assume. She smiles at me and reaches for my chest. She straightens the collar of my maroon button down shirt beneath my black hoodie and a gently smile breaks across her face. My chest grows warm.

"You you look good," she says laying her hand against my chest. "Do you ever wear ties? A skinny one would suit you." 

"Thanks."

She looks great.

I shake my head at her. 

She tosses a lock of her hair out of her face. Her hazel eyes meet mine. Her hair frames her face in a mix of curls, waves and thin braids. The crown on her head is adorned with a larger braid around her head and a thin set of chains that hang from it like a make-shift crown. She wears little makeup and her full pink lips appear to only have lip balm on them. She smells as she has since I met her, of an herbal slightly fruity tea. She has a small purse over her shoulder matching the beads on her dress and a sheer black shawl over her shoulders. She lets her hand fall, glances down the stairs in front of us then back at me.

"Ready to go?" 

I nod.

_________

We enter a small store front with black curtains drawn across the windows. Inside the wood floor looks as though it has been buffed and polished recently. All the walls are a stark white only accented by the various pieces of art that are on display against them. The ceiling above is like that of an unfinished basement with pipes lain like scaffolding across the ceiling but all of them are a uniform black.

"I'll be right back," Maeve says resting her hand against my shoulder for less than a second.

I nod and she walks toward one of the far walls. She quickly returns with a folding sign that she places near the front door. I push my hands into my pockets and begin wandering around the room. Mounted, pasted and leaned up against nearly all of the bare white walls are pieces of art. Not all Maeve's from what I can tell. One corner houses small metal sculptures sitting on short block like tables and other hanging in mid-air above my head. Another corner displays oil pastel drawings from geometric shapes and other abstract designs to others of scenery and portraits. Another exhibits clay sculptures from vases to miniature bust statues and animal sculptures.