DUPLICATE

CHAPTER 12. MAPLE

LYDIA D'ANGELO

-PRESENT-

   I sit observant in the driver seat. It's quiet and calm, too calm for my liking. The parking lot is empty in the back which is surprising. Continues to lead towards my suspicion.
  I raise my hand to adjust my mirror to focus behind me just in case any surprises rise.

  It's clear, the wind gusts against the car. The trees blow and leaves wither away. The sun is covered by the clouds, dark and hollow.
  My eyes glide to myself. My natural red curls in place from place to place. They remind me of a dark red maple leaf, so vibrant. I find it funny how some find joy in autumn, we're watching leaves fall, the leaves that created oxygen for us to survive. Then they hit the floor and soonly crumble and diterate.
  They become a chore, "Timmy go rake the leaves." For example, But months pass by and they reappear once again.
  Nothing ever broken can't be fixed. It just has to serve a purpose.

  As I continue watching my features I see Adele running from the rear mirror. Her hoodie slips around her body perfectly, it indents her curves. But it's filthy and raggeded.
  The vents were the only plan that could work. But it was a bit shitty. A previous plan we decided was to disguise as the audience and just leave like cake, but it was risky. Considering how paranoid Ricky is, security almost every corner except for some blind spots. It came to me and Adele's surprise when we found one. Ricky isn't known for blind spots, so being able to escape through the janitor's closet was a win for us.
  Secondly Ricky had everyone in the crowd wear bracelets, trackers.

  They're also uniquely designed for each guest. And with Adele rising from the dead that would be quite stupid arranging a bracelet.
  I press the unlock button on my left, from my calculations we should be driving in less than 1 minute and the drive should be 44 hours with no stops but we're not going to be sitting out asses down in a seat for 44 hours, me and adele are taking shifts and the plan is for them to track us down. Hence leaving footprints for them to follow.
  That's what men are, stupid, undilleget, and need a head start to begin.

  We'll stay at a few motels every 15-20 hours. Only for 2 hours at the most. 8 extra hours.
  52 hours in total.

  My hand moves onto the shift gear. My foot hovering over the exaltate petal below. My heart beats as the seconds go by. Adele runs faster and my heart beats faster in sync.
  When her hand clutches the handle and swings open I don't wait for a second. Ricky knows by now, they'll be planning to hunt Adele down.
  The body of a female, specifically mine,won. My task to seduce Robert and have him wrapped around my finger is working. I felt the adrenaline rushing through me from dropping him down to the floor. I wanted to do so much more. I wanted to rush my knife up the stomach where Roman gutted him earlier. The agony it would cause him, the amazement it would grant me.
 
I can't wait for the moment Adele informs me he's dead, that they'll all be dead. But before that I have to keep cover and make sure I'm not discovered by Robert. The seduction will envolve loyalty between me and him, sex, and he'll run his mouth about everything.
  She sits down in her seat before slamming the door close. My foot steps on the petal like my life depended on it and my newly manicured hands shifted the gears to drive. The sound of the car blasting through and the naked trees disappear behind us.
  I focused on getting us to the freeway, before Adele could tell me how going through the vents went. My hands grip the steering wheel to the right and drive faster to avoid waiting for the light to go green again. I swerve around cars, they honk back. I hold the urge to flip them off but doing that could risk me showing my face to street cameras.
  Right now I should believe if the outside world sees me I'll be dead. Which is the equivalent.
  I start lifting my speed and slow down to the average speed limit. I smile, we're out.

We made it out alive.

"Tell me everything." I speak up as my eyes don't leave the road.

  "I fucking fell while climbing up to the duct and I fell into a nail!" she collapses her face into her hands. That's fuck-up one, adele knows the stakes, that can't happen again.
  "Next time-." I say quietly, her voice shuts mine up before I finish. "Yeah I know next time I'll be dead." I scoff at her arrogance.

  "You'll be dead? If you're dead I'm dead too." I'm not going to yell at adele. We're not arguing, and I don't want to. I'll accept that we have our differences and reasons but reasons outweigh differences.
  But throughout our friendship she's been there. She would listen to me ramble. We aren't a perfect friendship but we're decent.

  And on the other hand a fucking headache pounds my head.

Stupid fragrance.

"I know."

  I turn my head, she has one hand holding up her head with sticks from the window. Adele is hard to read, if she's mad she's fucking mad. But if she's apologetic, she's apologetic.
 
  We stayed quiet and I drove off into the highway. After 10 minutes Adele falls asleep. I sigh and watch the buildings pass by. A few motels, homeless sit on the edge of the building.
  When at a red light a father and his children hold up a sign asking for money.

-Past-

  "Apa?" I yell out into the cold air. It chills me as I walk into the living room. My fingers tuck the blankets even more attempting to caress my skin with my cloth.
  I stare down at my blanket and see how raggedy it is. And how the fabric is worn out.

  As my cold feet scuff against the floor I stand watching my father frantically typing against his keyboard. "Apa." He turns around and his face is pale and skinner.
  "Lydia." His voice mellow.

  He gets up from the couch and walks over towards me. One knee falls down to the ground and his hands wrap around my small body.
  "I'm cold."

  His body warmth doesn't spread around my body like I'm used to, he's cold like me and almost shaking. But he releases his cold grip around me and removes his sweater.
  He drags it over my head, then squeezes my arms into the arm-holes.

  I look up at my father and try remembering when things were different. In my memory, apa wasn't sleep deprived. He went to bed early. We would eat warm cooked meals, then pray.

  But now home cooked meals don't exist, only canned soups and anything that could be made without a kitchen. And now apa is awake until the morning. But during that period he's trying on our only valuable item left. The computer.

  He begins to pick me up and move back to his original position. I lay my head in his lap, the cold caressing my skin. I shut my eyes as an escape but I'm still here.
  "What are you writing?" I say gently.

"The ticket to our freedom. Your mother will finally get justice and we'll finally be able to move someplace far away." I remain quiet and glance upon his screen where I start to read.

The truth about Ricky Petrov

By Dexter D'Angelo

///

  One of the children inbetted themselves into their jacket which looked torn and worn out. I shut my eyes and remind myself why I'm here. And my mind doesn't run to reasons because it's right in front of me. That is why I'm here.
  I quickly open the cabinet looking for some loose change. I found only a couple pennies. Pennie won't do shit, I look up at Adele who lays asleep unbothered.

  I know we have money just where is it. My eyes stay focused on Adele, she has the money. I lead my arms near her stomach and pull over her hoodie. A thick line of tape surrounds her body. And hundred dollar bills are exposed.
  I pulled out 5 bills.

  I rolled down Adele's hoodie like nothing happened. I glide the window down enough where I'm not visible, and slip the five hundred dollars at the father. His fingers grip the end of the bills and I see his face shine up in glory and eyes begin to water.

"Thank you! Thank you." He begins to cry and a tear rolls down my cheek as I press on the petal. The car drives away into the road headed towards Pismo.

There is my purpose to survive, revenge.

*edited*