Never ending. The turmoil in my life was never ending. Kidnapped, robbed, traumatised, stalked. Would it ever end?
I didn't storm in this time. I was scarily calm, though the barricade hoarding my emotions was beginning to crack.
I opened the door to Lexi and Norbert sitting face to face at the lopsided table, playing a game of poker. Coins and crumpled notes were littered across the table, tossed in the frenzy of victory, and in the bitterness of loss.
"Oh, Tilly. Just in time to witness Norbert losing all his money."
He scoffed, "ha! As if."
I usually would have laughed, or made a sarcastic comment. But nothing particularly witty came to mind.
"Lexi?" I croaked. I cleared my throat, surprised at the feeble tone of my voice.
Lexi's mischievous smirk disappeared.
"What is it this time."
"He drew pictures of me. I saw them in his window."
"Who?" Norbert asked.
Lexi rolled her eyes, "the creep who mugged Tilly, keep up Bertie."
She turned back to face me. "Wait, he has pictures of you? You found his house?"
I nodded, and she let out a long whistle.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go to Zona."
"Woah, slow down Bert. Let Tilly have some recovery time."
I nodded. Recovery sounded like a good idea.
"Can we get some tea?" I said, finally.
Norbert smiled, "sure, I quite fancy a tea myself."
"How can you two drink tea? It's hot water with leaves."
"Mm, but yummy leaves." I mumbled, half consciously.
Norbert and Lexi looked at each other.
"Yeah, she needs some magic hot leaves pronto".
*
A steamy tendril of lemon and green tea tickled my nose, and I instantly perked up. I cupped the mug in both hands, hugging the heat with my trembling fingers.
"So what do you think?" I slid one of the smaller sketches that I managed to snatch, across the table.
"Well," Lexi started, " I think you have a crazy stalker on your tail."
I frowned, irritated at her attitude to the situation. "This is not funny Lex. This is really dangerous."
"If this is so serious, and so extremely dangerous, then why haven't you gone to Zona." She said coolly, knowing that she's won.
I looked at Norbert, who silently nodded. I didn't say anything, and went back to picking at the chip on the rim of my mug.
I let out a long sigh, "I think I need to do this myself. I need to prove to Zona that I'm fine."
"Does it really matter that much? Isn't the main priority to be safe? And to get the money back?" Norbert questioned in a more concerned tone than Lexi's accusative demeanour.
"I Know! I know this, and I don't know what I'm doing...", a weak laugh escaped my lips. "But I know that if I don't do this, I'll be stuck with Harley. I need to work alone, or I won't get the money. It'll be a never ending cycle."
"You don't know that for sure. And with that money back, you'll give yourself more time to recover and then prove yourself."
"Well?" Lexi pressed.
"I just need more time to think."
"Ha! Don't we all!"
I glared at her.
"Don't give me that look! You know that you're too weak to get the money yourself. That's why you haven't done it already!"
I opened my mouth to retaliate, but nothing came out. Maybe it's because she was right.
"Matilda," Norbert said, with a more sympathetic tone than Lexi's. "All Lexi is trying to say, is that you need to act sensibly. I get that you're worried about your freedom, but that isn't the biggest problem in this situation."
A slice of silence wedged itself between us, everyone silently skimming our thoughts. I still held on to my opinion that going to Zona wasn't the right thing to do, however there was some reason in Norbert's and even Lexi's words.
The silence didn't last for long.
Of course, it was Lexi that spoke first. Her voice still with a bite of bitterness.
"Well, whatever you choose...you'd better act quickly."
I sighed as she stood up to leave. Norbert wasn't far behind her.
I didn't want to go to Zona. I knew that it wasn't the right option. So though even the thought of it made my fingers curl, I knew there was only one route left that I could take.
I'd just have to go in myself.
*
I've already walked down the road, passed his house. This time, I sat on a low brick wall further down the road, observing.
I found out that he left the house around six o' clock in the morning, and walked towards the main street. When the door opened, I opened and closed my clammy hands. When he jumped down the steps from his front door to the pavement, my pulse jumped and screamed. The further he walked, the more these effects subsided.
I don't really know what compelled me to go, I suppose to gather more information on him. It was possible, I could break in. I could get back what was mine, I could get away, not get caught.
I walked away after that. Though, me being me, I just couldn't stay away.
I decided that I would give myself one last chance. Then I would go to Zona. I had to make sure that I really couldn't do it on my own.
He left the house seventeen minutes later than yesterday; he hastily jumped out onto the porch, and leapt down the stairs that led to the street. His tie tossed loosely around his shoulders, papers grasped in one hand, a piece of toast in the other.
It didn't take him long to disappear around the corner. It all happened too quickly for me to really develop any overbearing emotions, I only felt the flutter of my heart when his door exploded open. At the thought, my eyes drifted to the black door.
The slightly ajar, black door.
My pulse galloped with excitement. This really was the perfect chance, a miracle even. I could slip in and out again without any commotion; even Zona wouldn't be able to do as good of a job, no matter who she sent in.
Despite my elated demeanor, I slowly made my way to the house, making a conscious effort to steady the flurry of emotions inside. I casually walked up the stairs, as if I was supposed to be there, and lightly tapped on the door, as if I were visiting.
When no one answered the door, I relaxed even more; no one else was inside.
I gingerly poked the door open with my gloved hand, and slipped in. Shoes, hats, papers and various potted plants cluttered the hallway, like an obstacle course. I hopped around the clusters of objects, and scanned the first room.
It was obviously a study, with all the papers strewn around the room, pinned to notice boards that lined the walls, and coated the desk like a tablecloth.
The papers varied in importance: some with hastily drawn sketches, and some filled from bottom to top with writing, and of course, studies of me. He had taken them down from the windows, pieces of blue tack still stained the glass. I stalked to the desk, and found them in a neat stack on top of the sea of long forgotten papers.
My hands snatched them and stuffed them in my bag. The pure adrenaline, usually exhilarating, now only served to numb the fear.
calm down, it's only taking back what was yours.
I looked inside bags, and tupperware boxes; I managed to find some, but not enough. I gave up on downstairs, realising that I couldn't stay for too long.
My hands had already started to quiver. Although I wasn't sure if they shook in excitement, impatience, or fear.
His bedroom was the first room to inspect, I quickly spotted a glass jar with "travel funds" scrawled on a piece of peeling masking tape. I disemboweled the contents with hasty handfuls, grabbing wads of money like a greedy claw.
I poured coins into my pockets, and estimated I found over two hundred in the jar alone. With the amount that I previously unearthed, it would be enough to keep me sane.
I should have left at that instant. I had enough money to solve my worries, and I had the sketches. That's what I came for. Everything would have been just fine.
But I couldn't.
Another sketch of me lay on top of what looked like a file; I snatched the sketch, grumbling under my breath at the ridiculous amount of drawings he had made of me.
My eyes shifted back to the file, and caught the words "Project Thief". I suddenly felt light headed, and as if I weren't really there, as if I were merely observing.
I flipped the cover, and skimmed through the contents, hungrily taking in what lay inside; more sketches of my form, but morphed into different poses and outfits and even some with scenery.
Amongst these, were sheets filled with scrawled writing and spiky diagrams, and some with uniform characters.
I didn't try to read them; there was no time.
I forced myself out of my frozen state, slipped the file into my bag, and spun around to face the door with a new found energy.
My feet bounded down the stairs, they moved in sync with the ever increasing, thrum of my heart. I reached the front door, and placed my hand on the handle, ready to escape house.
But before I pushed the handle down, I realised, the door wasn't supposed to be closed in the first place.
A deep sigh resounded behind me.
"we really have to stop meeting like this."