Note: I really encourage readers to try and get past chapter 1. I know the story starts off with a character arc and a situation not always depicted in stories that could make it challenging to warm up to this story, but that is the purpose of the character. Having an open mind for the characters especially is really important when reading, so I want to thank those that have given it a chance.
I felt a cool tingle travel up my spine causing me to halt abruptly. I glanced up from the cutting board and stared at the analog clock ahead of me. I furrowed my brows. 5:44 PM, it read. It's too early. I let out a shaky breath and looked back down to continue slicing. I've always liked the red bell pepper. It wasn't too sweet, it wasn't too spicy. There was a freshness I could only obtain through them. I always add red bell pepper to everything, and tonight was no exception.
The chef's knife easily sliced through its protective casing, strip by strip. I sliced through it slowly, making sure each strip was the same size and the same length. The sound of the boiling pot beside me drowned out my thoughts in disarray. Despite feeling the thick cold chill settling over the air, I continued to drown myself in my thoughts. I love making food. It makes me feel strong, powerful, like my own decisions matter. I feel good. This is the best place I can be right now. Nowhere else is better than right here, in my kitchen, slicing a pepper.
Nowhere else is better, nowhere else is safe, nowhere else is—a sudden boom shook the kitchen with passion, and I let out a sharp cry. My eyes shot open. I was gripping the knife so hard as I felt my shoulders shudder. I could feel the goosebumps travel up my arms as I watched the red liquid escape my finger. Oh god, it was deep. I let out a shudder as I quickly backed away from the cutting board, dropping the knife against the cold hardwood in the process. Now it's on the clean floor.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," I spurted as I staggered past the barstools, knocking one over. The loud clap of thunder erupted and shook the room once again. I let out another cry as I quickly made my way to the bathroom. I could feel my heart racing as I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. Another boom exploded throughout the apartment as I rushed to turn on the faucet, quickly ignoring the sight in front of the mirror.
I can't breathe. I feel like I'm breathing, but nothing is coming in. I breathe harder. I feel like I'm suffocating. The water is turning so red. Another clap of thunder ruptured through the apartment, bringing with it the soft patter of the rain. I sank down onto the floor against the sink and pulled my knees into my chest. Why won't it stop? Why won't the thunder stop? I felt my breathing increase. I wept, more tears rolling down my cheeks.
"Please stop," I barely whispered, my voice hoarse as another clap of thunder echoed through the apartment. My pants were red from my finger, but I didn't care as I continued to squeeze my legs against my chest. "Please, please make the thunder stop." I even searched what time it would storm. It was too early to storm! I squeezed my eyes shut as a flash of light crossed my eyes, followed by another clap of thunder. I felt my breathing continue to increase. I can't do this anymore, I can't do this again.
Last time was worse, I couldn't feel my body, but now? Now, I have this stupid cut and everywhere is red. Maybe if I stay here, the thunder will go away faster, maybe if I stay quiet, it will go away. I don't remember the last time I left here, but that didn't stop the thunder. Here is all I know, here is where it's safe from the thunder, safe from the outside. Nothing can hurt me here—
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of the telephone ring and I jerked my head up. My breathing staggered. I didn't do anything, I swear. The telephone rang again, this time, continuing its deafening ring. I slowly rose from the ground and made my way towards the phone, making sure to duck from the mirror. The phone grew louder as I approached it. I swallowed hard as my shaking fingers grazed the quickly vibrating phone. Before I knew it, the phone was to my ears.
"H-hello," I warily asked.
"Hi sweetie," the voice on the other line greeted. I quickly recognized the voice.
"Hi, mama!" I embraced the sound of her voice. I could feel a smile quickly forming.
"Hey! How are you doing? I thought I'd call again since you missed my last few calls." I gulped. "How is Amsterdam treating you," she gently asked. Her voice was so soothing as if she was all I needed right now.
"It's going great," I laughed nervously at the announcement, "just great. Days are long and hectic here, so I'm just glad to be home." I calmed my voice, making sure she couldn't hear a falter in my words.
"That's great, I'm really glad to hear that. I know being the head of a large marketing firm there can be so hectic and stressful," she paused as she spoke and I could hear a smooth repetitive sound in the background as if she was cutting vegetables for dinner as well. My eyes shot open as I quickly ran towards the stove and shut off the overflowing pot of water. "I'm sorry I called you so late, you're probably in bed right now. I always forget about the time difference," she laughed as she spoke. I looked up at the clock and gave a modest laugh. 6:06 PM, it read.
"Yea, it's a little past midnight here," I lied and began shuffling around as if I was preparing for bed.
"Now I feel bad," she laughed as she spoke, "but I am glad you're enjoying your time there. These two years have gone by so fast. It feels like you graduated college just yesterday," she said, her voice dropping in volume as she spoke sadly.
"Yea, sometimes I forget how long I've lived here too," I spoke, unclear as to whether or not I should sound excited or sad.
"Well, I'm doing alright here. Chicago is exactly how you left it," she laughed as I shuddered and covered the phone, hearing the thunder from the other end of the phone erupt as the thunder here shook the apartment. It was raining harder on both of our ends. "I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you for finally facing your fears and stepping out into the world," I gave a nervous laugh, "I know how hard it was for you to leave home, even leave the house nonetheless. I know me pushing you to go out there was tough, but look at you now, living the life of fun and excitement!" I glanced around my apartment. White walls, not a frame crooked, not a pillow out of place. The calm scent of lemon cleaner and bleach plagued the air as I revered the apartment. Fun and excitement. This was fun, I was perfectly fine being here. I didn't need excitement. I didn't want excitement.
"Mama, don't worry about it. I have a nice balance of work-life and weekend life," I lied, laughing, "there is always something to do." I hate constantly having to reassure her that I go out, have fun, and enjoy my life. There was always the underlying message that she didn't believe me, but I continued to lie. "I actually just got back from a co-worker's birthday party."
"Honey, I'm just happy to hear you enjoying yourself. Now, I know you must be tired and I don't want to keep you any longer," I shuddered and covered the phone as a boom of thunder echoed from both of our ends. I felt a tear slowly sliding down my cheek.
"I love you, Dallia, get plenty of rest." I felt my throat tightening.
"I will mama," I barely made out, "you too," my voice cut out as the line on the other end became silent. I let out a sigh of relief and dropped the phone against the counter. All I could hear was the rain pelting the windows as a sigh of relief scraped over me. No more thunder.
I slowly made my way back to the bathroom, this time stopping in front of the mirror. I held my head down low, staring at the fresh cut slowly beginning to heal. I slowly looked up, my eyes meeting the mirror and I winced. My hair was dry, rowdy and unkempt as all of it struggled to stay in the bun I put it in. My eyes too big for my head had formed large dark circles under them. My dark skin, reflecting a rough shade of grey the longer I stood under the bright bathroom light. Deep collar bones, hallowing features, I looked like I hadn't eaten in days despite my strong diet of red bell peppers and boiling water. I don't really know how to cook. I frowned at the body reflecting in front of me and let out a sad sigh. I can't do anything else. There's nothing I can do that can make me love myself. It's not like I've ever done it.
I suddenly heard a knock at the door. It was gentle, but commanding. No, no, no. I'm never expecting anyone. I never have anyone knock at my door, ever. I live at the corner. No one ever passes this door. I don't have any friends or acquaintances, so how can someone be at my door. The knocking grew a little louder and more persistent. I felt my breathing increase as I slowly made my way towards the door.
I don't want to do this, I kept reminding myself, but my feet had a mind of its own as I made my way towards the door. I don't remember the last time I saw someone and I am not ready to break that streak. I just want to be left alone, why couldn't anyone understand that. I just wanted to be here where it's safe from the outside. I grabbed the cold doorknob and looked into the peephole. A frown quickly made its way across my face.
A man, a man I have never seen before was standing outside my door. His hands in his pockets, lounging lazily against the wall behind him. He wore a dark blue button-up with dark jeans, and what I am assuming to be dark Vans. I could barely make out his face as he towered over the peephole. I shook my head and quickly moved away from the door. No, I won't. Men aren't good. They will hurt you, I remember mama saying once in my childhood. Like he hurt me. God why is a man here, why is anyone here? I felt my heart begin to race as I moved further from the door until I was suddenly stopped at my track.
"I know you're in there," a deep muffled voice announced from outside the door, "I saw you open your door and grab your mail here." My frown grew deeper and I folded my arms against my chest. "Not that I watched you grab it or anything, I'm just delivery these packages on this floor and I saw you open your door, and I've been delivery these for the past half-hour on this floor and didn't see you open your door again so I'm assuming you're still in there," I heard him pause before a nervous laugh left his lips.
"I feel the need to validate that I'm not being a creep, which I'm usually not, so there you have it." I moved against the wall and shut my eyes, hoping he would go away soon. "I could even hear your footsteps coming towards the door... This isn't me being a creep, this is me being perceptive," he paused, "look, I delivered to you the wrong mail when you grabbed them. I've got your mail here. I'd just like to do a friendly civil exchange of government parchments, so you and someone else can get their mail, and we can all move on with our day, how does that sound?" I slowly opened my eyes and turned towards the door next to me. I hesitated but leaned forward again to look through the peephole. He was right. He was holding what looked to be a bag, possibly with mail in it.
I let out a groan I'm pretty sure he heard due to his laugh and muttering something along the lines of "there we go!" I walked back towards the counter and grabbed the mail. Looking at it as I walked past the door, I cursed, not realizing the mail didn't belong to me. I swallowed a big lump in my throat as I began to unlock and unlatch the several locks on my door. A girl can never be too careful living here. I felt my goosebumps cascade down my arms. This is the first time I would be seeing someone in over two years.
I barely cracked the door open, but that revealed a large portion of the man. I could clearly make out his face now. Short dark hair, quafted and slightly curled around his ears barely covering bright grey eyes. I watched as his lips slowly formed into a sly smile, small dimples forming around his lips. He was much taller than what I saw through the peephole. I noticed a tattoo near the opening of his shirt that looked to extend across his shoulder, but I didn't want to think any more of it. I hid half my face behind the door and extended the arm with the mail.
"Here," I said abruptly. He surprised me with a quiet laugh, causing me to frown and duck further behind the door as the smile quickly made its way back.
"Dallia, I assume, very pretty name." I ducked down, feeling my heart begin to race. I touched my cheek, feeling a warm sensation. He reached out and grabbed the mail in my hand, his hand slowly brushing against mine. I quickly pulled my hand away and cleared my throat. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Men aren't good to me, I tried reminding myself. He took the mail from me and placed it into the bag before staring back at me. I stared at him, and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.
"And my mail," I reminded him impatiently, ducking back into the door. A realization hit him and he snapped his fingers at me.
"Right," he began, "about that." My frown only grew wider as he gave a nervous laugh. "Let me just find them. They're all sort of mixed up in here." He heaved the large bag to the ground which my assumption of it being filled with mail was correct. It was filled.
"You mean you didn't even have them on hand! Why didn't you find them before knocking," I was furious but you couldn't tell as my voice came out more concerned than angry.
"Look, I didn't realize you'd want your mail right away," he sang. I twitched. Was he stupid or just dumb? I couldn't tell as he slowly began taking the mail out one by one and looking at them to determine if one of them was mine.
"This will take forever," I began, "just leave them at my door when you find them." I was already closing the door before he placed his foot against the door frame and yelped in pain.
"Ow! Jesus, you don't need to harm me. Plus, it'll only take a few minutes. I think you at least owe me that for jamming my foot with your door." I made a sound that could only be distinguished as a high pitch groan.
"You put your foot there!" I hammered.
"I did not. Even if I did, you slam doors hard and I could have lost a foot. Now, if you could show me the same kindness I've shown you, I'd like to show you how fast I can sort through mail and find them!" Why was he so joyous and confident? I guess maybe if I looked like that, I would be too. He seems like the kind of person that has everything going for him. What is he doing working as a mail delivery guy? He didn't even have on a uniform, but the thought didn't cross my mind as I grew frustrated with him. He began to put a large pile of mail out before he quickly dropped it back into the bag.
"Turn around," he suddenly said.
"What," I demanded, already fed up and drained of energy from him.
"It won't work unless you turn around."
"I am not turning around!"
"Do you want your mail?" Why was he being so persistent? He was probably asking me the same question in his head. His silver eyes shined as he persisted. I refused to turn around. I just wanted to go back to cutting my bell peppers. I had a lot planned tonight, from enjoying roasted bell peppers to finally getting to starting a new drawing in my sketchbook. Why did this man feel the need to interrupt? I don't want to be out here, I've spent too long with him as it is. I finally let out a sad sigh and closed my eyes, hoping he would take that instead of me turning around. I heard a quick shuffle before his deep voice appeared near my ears.
"Open them," he encouraged. I felt the hairs on my neck quickly rise at the feeling of his presence. I slowly opened my eyes to see multiple parchments in his hands, all holding my name. A sigh of relief escaped me as I reached for them. How did he find them so fast, he flipped through and messed up the order he probably had in his bag. So how did he find all five letters so fast? I didn't question any further as he smiled and handed me the mail.
"There you are, Miss Dallia, your mail." I gave him a half-smile and began to close the door.
"Before you do," he began, "I just wanted to let you know that this was the highlight of my day." I frowned and leaned back against the door. This was the highlight of his day? Arguing with a nobody? I felt the tingling sensation on my cheeks again but chose to ignore it. I didn't respond and simply gave him another half-smile. "Yes, chatting with you was the highlight of my day. My days are usually pretty tough so it's nice to have a conversation once in a while," he continued, giving me another one of that impressive smile. His days are tough from being a nail delivery guy?
"I'm Ezra if you were too shy to ask." I looked down from him and looked away, causing another chuckle to leave him. "I hope I didn't interrupt your night too bad, but I hope to see you again." I watched as he licked his lips and smiled innocently. I felt my stomach ache again. Men aren't good to me? He laughed, sensing I wasn't going to speak again. "I'll make like a bunny and hop away. After our incident, I'll only have one good leg for a while," he fake sniffled. Why was he so dramatic? He gave me a salute, before grabbing the bag and slowly walking away from me. I felt my heart begin to race. I don't know what this feeling was, but it was making me do stupid things as I emerged from the door and entered the dimly lit hallway.
"W-wait," I barely uttered, but he stopped at his tracks anyway and turned around. There was a curious look on his face that made him look like one of my favorite actors when they were surprised. "Thank you." I smiled. He grinned from ear to ear and folded his arms against his chest.
"Now that's a pretty smile. Next time, perhaps a laugh." He cocked his head and I felt the urge to duck by into the door, smiling to myself.
"Goodbye, Ezra," I announced before heading back into the apartment before he got a chance to respond and shut the door. I turned around and leaned against the door, feeling my heart pound against my chest. The sound of the rain began to drown out my thoughts again. I closed my eyes, feeling a warm feeling cascade up my arms. I smiled to myself before slowly making my way back towards the kitchen shaking my head.
Secretly, I was hoping to see Ezra again.