Back from the Dead

Chapter 2- Same Name, Different Person

Chapter 2

Fight or flight? The two words bounced around in my mind. Fighting would draw attention to myself but fleeing would give the whisperer a positive answer. My muscles tensed preparing to fight yet my mind was logically telling me to run. Who was this person? And more importantly, were they here to put a bullet in my head?

My brain automatically ran over all the tactical strategies I knew and my eyes scanned for quick and efficient ways of escape. I mentally four nearby fire escapes that would be easy enough to scale. My body was, subconsciously, preparing itself for a battle. My fingers were moving in an agitated way; rubbing and tapping against each other.

"Adara William." the voice whispered again, this time more confident.

I allowed my posture to relax and my stance to widen.

'No! She's dead!' I wanted to shout at the person behind me. Instead. I responded the way I was trained to; calmly and collectively in the face of trouble. "I don't know what you're talking about." My voice was calm but there was a threatening ring to it.

"Really? Then please explain to me how I saw her in a coffee shop this morning. I watched her all day until I was 100% sure it was her. I wouldn't have believed it. I watched her casket go six feet into the ground. Who knew moving to New York would lead me straight to my dead best friend?" She asked innocently but persistently. What a creeper. Who watches someone for hours and hours?

I had stayed quiet throughout her whole monologue. My back was still facing her. If she knew Adara, she would definitely recognize me. There would then be questions that I could not answer, lies I would have to confess to, and more lies I would have to make. Not to mention the impending danger to myself and this unknown women if she knew who I was.

I was still trying to place her voice when I answered, "Miss, I have no idea what you're talking about." I tried to reason with her, "Why don't you go back inside and have a nice, warm cup of coffee on me?"

"I've been drinking coffee all day, I'm fine." stated the ever familiar voice. I felt I knew the voice very well as if I'd heard it many times. I've decided this person was no threat to me- if she hadn't attacked yet, she probably wasn't going to.

A whisper came from one of the corners of my mind. A whisper of my past, letting me know that I did, in fact, know the standing behind me. I quickly pushed aside this fact and enclosed it within high concrete walls once again.

I decided that I needed to leave. If I was right and I did know her at one point in my life, I needed to leave quickly. With my increased nervousness, came an increased amount of twitching in my fingers.

"It's getting late, I should go. And so should you." I began to walk away when a felt a hand being placed on my shoulder. I quickly shrugged it off and continued walking. I didn't know I was going; I couldn't go home in case this familiar stranger followed me.

I hoped she would leave me alone but apparently, she had other plans.

"Were you even upset when you killed her? Did you even feel any connection to her at all?" the voice was becoming impatient and she sounded hurt. I could hear her flip flop slapping against the pavement as she tapped her foot.

Killed her? Is that what I did? Yes. In some sort of twisted way, I had killed Adara. I never recognized that fact before but now, I do.

How did she know? How had she connected the dots so quickly? After 11 months of no feelings and what felt like a lifetime of desensitizing myself to pain, it shocked me to find out that I could still feel horror.

"I cried for months over her." the voice continued a little bit wobbly, "We all thought she died in a freak accident. What the hell was going through your head? Her family, her friends- She was loved." Her stutter did not go unnoticed by me. I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts.