Life Without Laughter

Six - Delilah - Surprising The Surpriser

Delilah was impressed with herself. In only two hours, she had converted Marcus flat into a spectacle to behold, especially when all the other adjacent houses look like they've been through a war zone.

Delilah knew Marcus well enough to realise that he wasn't entirely fond of being shocked, and he's only recently returned from a vacation, so Delilah decided the wise decision would be to retreat back to her home and maybe sort out that ticket from earlier.

This time, though, she walked.

Thankfully, there was no police car with blaring lights beside her house. However, because there was always something going on near her house, there was the same policewoman from earlier at her door.

Delilah stripped away all her niceties, since she was sick of seeing this lady's depressing face. "What do you want now?" She asked sternly as she approached the woman.

Her ginger hair was more tidy than the unknotted cluster it once was, and she appeared more confident, with a pen and paper in hand. "I'm surprised you aren't in prison yet, Miss Benson." She stated, raising an eyebrow.

Delilah took offence, and snickered, thinking it was a quick jab at her. "OK, lady, it was just a fucking ticket—."

"Oh, it's more than that, I've just heard from someone that you stole a valuable piece of jewellery."

Delilah laughed, refusing to take the woman seriously. "OK, if this is some stupid prank from someone at my work, tell them they should try better next time."

"This isn't a prank, Miss Benson. A necklace has been robbed and I have evidence suggesting it was you." The woman said, clearly sick of what her day had become, a back-and-forth trade of blows between her and a woman with obvious OCD.

"Why would I steal a necklace from my own workplace?" Delilah queried, folding her arms and leaning against her car, still attached with the ticket.

"Because you wanted your fiancé, Marcus, to get you it for your birthday but he didn't because it was too expensive at the time." She shot back. Delilah's eyes inflated, was this woman moonlighting as a cop but secretly a stalker?

"Who...told you all this?" Delilah asked, a gross feeling swirling in her stomach.

"Ashley Adelstein."

Delilah's lips thinned. The mention of that name brought misery to her face, as her mouth moulded to form an everlasting frown, her muscles tightened, and her heart picked up pace quickly. If Ashley simply ceased to exist, maybe Delilah would finally like her job. Every single co-worker is fine and kind to her, apart from the little atrocity called Ashley, born to be a blemish on the earth.

Delilah cleared her throat. "Right. So you're accusing me of a crime based on the opinion of someone else. Even worse, you believed it, and from someone like....Ashley." Delilah snapped, glaring at the officer, she started to tug at her immaculate collar. "I'm aware that wasn't..entirely professional, but based on our previous conversation, you don't care much for the law, with no remorse whatsoever." She insulted, swiping her hat off.

"OK, seriously, lady, it was only a stupid ticket, and I think you've mistaken me with my Marcus. I promise that I didn't steal that necklace. You've got the wrong diva." She concluded, taking the ticket from her windshield, and entering her house, never glancing back to the officer, who stood awkwardly, bearing a reddened face.

Delilah stared out her peephole, smiled once she heard the police car drive away, and promptly locked her door like a jail cell. She went into her bedroom, the glare of the sun surrounding it, and Delilah rushed to snag her laptop from her bedside cabinet. She hauled herself up the stairs and fell onto her long, luscious couch, edging open her laptop. Away she clicked, tapping the keys thoughtlessly until the screen demanded she pay for a ticket Delilah thought was completely undeserved.

With one tap on the touchpad, Delilah had paid for the ticket, not sparing a second to hurl the paper into her bin, now a deformed, scrunched mess.  She sighing, the reality sinking in that she still had to clean her garage, a replica of the gateway to Hell, and then actually make the effort to show up at work, and then confront Ashley for the reason, likely to be stupid, why she framed her.

Unbeknownst to Delilah, Marcus was still at the comedy club called The Akva, downing his sixth pint of beer, still unaffected.

Next stop, work, the second worst thing in existence.

The first? Obviously Ashley fucking Adelstein.