"That one afternoon, I kissed you. In the middle of the street, where a white truck zoomed past our connected lips. And boy, it caused problems we couldn't have seen, but wasn't it also amazing?"
...
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I woke up. Sweat, a thin coat, laying over my skin and it felt as if my body was on fire. My cheeks hot to touch and my eyes blurry to where when I blinked I saw a black shadow. Dreams like this haunted me. They paid a visit to me every week, around four o'clock in the morning, and shook me to a start.
I quickly straightened up in my bed, fanning my satin sleeping gown to get some kind of cooling relief. My room was empty and dark since the moon was only casting a soft shadow through my room. I hated being alone, especially where I lived. No one of turn to when memories of my past came crawling into my mind.
The boys' hands, the boys' kisses. The force, the blood, the screams, the fear—
"Stop," I mumbled to myself. I licked my lips that were dry and felt the coarseness in my throat. "I need a drink."
The coolness of the tiles shocked the pads of my toes as I navigated through the dark kitchen and grabbed a glass that was on the counter. I rested against the sink as I slowly sipped water and stared into the light that shown into my kitchen.
Above me, I could hear the thumping and commotion of my neighbors. My apartment complex wasn't on the best side of town. The side of town that never slept. But it was cheap and I was barely making enough money to feed myself when I initially bought it. The noise continued and I rolled my eyes when I realized that nothing would make it stop for the next half hour.
° ° °
It was time to head out for work, just like any other summer day. I fixed the sleeve of my dress as I also poured a tall cup of coffee for myself with a biscuit on the side. I was ahead of schedule for once which meant that coworkers and managers wouldn't be on my bumper all day.
Just as I was about to make it through my door, the telephone rang almost abruptly. Rolling my eyes, I came back inside to set my things down and answer the telephone.
"Hello? This is Lee," I said impatiently. The line went silent but I could still hear faint breaths from the other side which frightened me. "Hello?"
"Y-Yes, uh, I am a. . . News—"
"Look, if you've got the wrong number then—"
"No!" The person on the other line said. I paused momentarily, tears welling up in my eyes at the familiarity with the voice. "Please, I work at a local television and news station and my team and I are working on a report that deals with your area. We. . . We'll be just observing and reporting around your area."
The more he talked, the more pull I felt from the phone. I knew that voice, that accent. I knew that familiar stutter whenever there was anxiety. I had to force myself to breathe because I had been holding my break for too long. His voice sounded like Deen's, too much like Deen for him to be dead. I had these moments a lot. Where I would be walking down the street and see a handsome boy with a mop of blonde-ish hair on top of his head. Immediately, my thoughts drifted to Deen, but then, the boy would turn and reveal himself.
"Ma'am?" The voice said, interrupting my daze.
"Yes, yes. You were talking about doing a survey or interview in people in my area, correct?" I questioned.
"Exactly. So this phone call is just to let everyone in your area know in case you are alarmed by the commotion."
"I'm sorry, you didn't give me your name or the place that you work at?"
"Oh, yes. I work News Station 16 downtown and my name Alexander Holt."
My chest deflated slowly and this whole phone call seemed more unusual the more the man proceeded. I wondered why this Alexander Holt came calling my telephone and wondered what observing my side of town would do for his news station.
"Well okay, Mr. Holt thank you for giving me a call before your station came over here. I must go now—"
"Wait! W-Would you possibly be up for a personal interview? For the newspaper, of course," Alexander said.
"Sure, but I will want to know more about what y'all will be doing later on," I said, chewing on my bottom lip carefully. The tears were starting to rise again.
"Yes. Your community will thank you."
"Yes. . ." I had to escape from this call.
I didn't want to admit that his voice was soothing to the ears. It reminded me of a simpler time that once used to feel so complicated. He sounded like Deen, but then again, everyone in Mississippi did at one point. It's like I could smell Deen or feel him kissing me softly. Or hear him whisper in my ear how beautiful I looked before kissing my neck. Remembering him could be so bitter. For a second, I feel like I'm in his arms and the next I picture him dead.
"Thank you. . ." Alexander started.
"Last name Miller," I finished for him.
"Thank you, Ms. Miller. I'll follow up more tomorrow with you."
"Okay. Good day."
"You as well," he said before hanging up five seconds later.
Putting the phone down was hard but I did it. I took a deep breath and wiped under my eyes quickly and carefully not trying to ruin my makeup that was applied an hour before. I was partly spooked out which just added to my anxiety.
"He's dead," I mumbled to myself.
And I grabbed my purse, lunch, and now cold coffee and walked out the door. -
Hello there! I apologize for this short chapter but for one, this chapter was just to fill in some blanks and details about Paislee. And secondly, I made it short because I would rather write a good short chapter than a long, extra-fluff chapter. Just my opinion.
