Your Job Bites!

Chapter 7 News to me

She just couldn't stand it. Whether her body wanted to or not she had to get up. She had been in bed so long her feet couldn't remember what the floor felt like. Not to mention that everyone was avoiding her. The only visitors she'd had were her Grandmother and the doctor and neither one would answer her questions. It was really starting to piss her off.

"What are they hiding from me?" She grumbled as she tried to get her pants on.

Getting dressed used to be easy. I had taken ages just to get from the bed to the dresser and find her clothes. She was already shaking from the effort of trying to pull her jeans on. She wasn't really sure that she could get them buttoned. She flopped backwards on the bed and panted.

Whitney hoped that getting up was going to be worth the effort. She knew that the whole household was keeping something from her and if it was that imporant that she not know then it was probably bad news.

Her breathing had finally evened out so she reached down and fumbled with the button of her jeans. She felt like she had lost all strength in her fingers. After a few tries the button was done and the zip was up.

"Now for the shirt." She slowly sat up and reached a shaking hand for the T-shirt she had found. Awkwardly she pulled it over her head and then stopped to catch her breath.

"Oh come on, toddlers can do this!" she snarled.

One final effort and she was dressed. She looked down at her bare feet and shook her head.

"I don't care." She heaved herself off of the bed and started toward the door.

Her progress was ridiculously slow. With every step she had to lean on the wall or furniture for support.

"Five years later..." she mumbled as she finally reached the top of the stairs. For a moment she contemplated sliding down the banister just because it would be quicker than hobbling down each and every step.

"Oh yeah, knowing my luck I'd fall off and end up breaking my neck." She started down the stairs.

She could hear a TV somewhere chattering somewhere downstairs. Step by step by step she descended. Half way down she had to stop and sit down. Her legs were shaking and her heart was pounding. She leaned her head against the baluster.

"Maybe I should take my chances sliding," she puffed glancing at the railing again.

As she sat waiting for her body to regain its strength, the sound of the TV intruded into her thoughts. It sounded like the news. She could hear little snippets of the reporters words. Then she heard her grandmother's voice but she couldn't tell what she had said.

Curiosity prodded Whitney to pull herself up and renew her decent. She focused all of her concentration on just making it down the steps. Finally she reached the ground floor. She clung to the newel post for a moment resting her forehead on the cool wood.

"Have found more bodies this morning." The TV reported.

"How could they have done this?" Whitney's head lifted at her grandmothers words. She pushed away from the post and shuffled forward. Drawn on by the snatches of conversation that were floating out of the living room.

"I don't blame them." Came Sandra's matter of fact voice.

"How can you say that? You were down there with them! Whitney was down there!" Elizabeth's voice drowned out the news reporter.

"That's why I can say it." Sandra's voice was calm.

"Sandra's right." Mrs. Meyers said quietly.

"No! This was just wrong!" Elizabeth said just as Whitney made it to the doorway. She leaned against the door frame unnoticed. Her attention was riveted to the TV.