Just a heads up: When you see bolded words, those are her thoughts in the moment.
Ok. Enjoy the Story :-)
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"Ladies and Gentlemen, please make sure your seatbelts are fastened as we begin our decent into London and thank you for choosing to fly with us today"
I wake up with a start from the nightmare I was having. They seemed to be getting worst but I shook my head and tried to calm the headache beginning to form.
I looked out the window and down into what was now going to be my new home. It was definitely a change of scenery from Boston but I would get used to it sooner or later. I still couldn't believe that the moment I had been dreaming about my entire life was finally happening.
I still remember the day my obsession began. I was watching an interview with a famous writer who was from England. I remember hearing his accent and how he spoke in such a way that you couldn't help but listen to everything he had to say.
I was twelve when that happened and from that day on, I became obsessed with everything English from their food to tea to Shakespeare. Ultimately this is what influenced me to pursue an English degree at Harvard. I worked my butt off and graduated top of my class. Although, it wasn't hard for me to do so, due to my heightened senses I've had since I was little.
I still don't know exactly why I have them but I let that go years ago. It's worked to my advantage so far, why question it now? Although it did make it difficult for me to make friends in school. I still remember getting blacklisted for being too black or observant or being called a teacher's pet anytime I answered a question or just for looking neutral whenever I was insulted or shoved against the wall or had my phone stolen.
I look down and try to stop my eyes from tearing. I shake my head remembering where I was.
"Stop it. This a new start for you away from it all. New country, new start." I whisper underneath my breath.
I released a breath I didn't know I was holding as I stepped off the plane into my new home. I walked out the building and called the moving company that was supposed to deliver my things. As I was dialing the number, I tried to hail a cab. Right as one pulled up, a man in a briefcase hopped right into the back.
"Um excuse me, this was my cab."
"And now it's mine, cheers darling."
The man closed the door and the cabby pulled away. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself and the headache beginning to form. I called for a new one and finally talked to the movers before pulling up at my new flat. I stepped out of the cab and watched the moving van pull up. I went straight to my landlords room and got the keys. I let the movers into my flat and allowed them to do their job when my phone rang. I looked down to see it was my brother.
"Hello?"
"Hey there, now that you've moved, you can't call your brother?"
"I literally saw you at the airport yesterday, you dork" I said, rolling my eyes.
"Yea yea, I know. I just wanted to make sure you landed ok. Nothing happened on board, right?"
"If you're referring to my panic attacks, no, nothing happened. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself."
"I'm your big brother, it's my job to worry."
"I know I know. I'll be alright, K"
"Ok, I'm trusting you. So how's the new "Flat" looking?"
I rolled my eyes again and shook my head laughing.
"It's fine, just the right size for me and my small belongings. The movers are just finishing up now, so I need to set the rest of my stuff up. I'll call you back later."
"Alright, I love you, kid."
"I love you too, tell mom and dad, I'm fine and give them my love."
"I will, bye"
"Bye bye"
I hung up and turned to the boxes in my apartment. I took a deep breath.
Time to get started
One Week Later
I closed the door to my flat and dropped the keys into the bowl next to the door. I kicked off my heels and flexed my feet to relax them before I wandered into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of whiskey and walked over to my sofa. I fell upon it and let out a sigh of relief.
I was beginning to hate my job and it had only been a week. It was just like college all over again but instead of being judged for my talents, I was being judged because of my nationality. They believed I was inferior to them just because I was an American and it was beginning to piss me off. It didn't help that I got a man in trouble by hearing his conversation over the phone about giving contacts to another company. I hated people like him so I told but somehow, I was seen as the bad guy.
I took a sip from my glass and turned on the news. It seemed to be a press conference addressing the recent murders in the neighborhood. I decided to listen in. The lady sitting behind the table spoke
"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on the building site in Greater London. Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide." I scoffed at the TV.
Could they really be this stupid?
I think watching all those crime shows as a child was beginning to show. I took another sip and kept listening.
"We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore"
I looked at the photos behind them and realized the first guy was the man who took my cab. A part of me says he got what he deserved but I quickly shake that sadistic thought away.
"In the light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing, but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now"
I recognize the nervous man from the news papers, I began to chuckle wondering exactly how he was going to "address this situation".
"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?"
"Well, they all took the same poison. Um, they were all found in places they had no reason to be. None of them had shown any prior intentions..."
"But you can't have serial suicides."
Finally! Somebody says it!
I take another sip but choke when the Inspector responds.
"Well, apparently you can."
I look at the screen dumbfounded.
If this is the man who is supposed to be protecting us, these "serial suicides" seem like the least of our worries.
"These three people, there's nothing that links them?"
"There's no link we've found yet but... We're looking for it. There has to be one."
"Not if it's the work of a serial killer. Not all serial killers have obvious ulterior motive. At least not until they make a mistake." I mumble under my breath.
Suddenly you hear the ringing of phones through the screen. I look on curiously as they all look at their phones, including the Inspector and the lady next to him. She looks confused at first but then upset.
"If you've all got texts, please ignore them."
"It just says "Wrong"" One of the reporters state.
That peaked my interest.
So, someone out there also knows that what they're saying is complete crap as well and they apparently have the power and the balls to call them out on it.
I smiled and kept watching.
"Yeah, well, just ignore that. If there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end."
Suddenly the room buzzes again with noise and a man's voice speaks out.
"If they're suicides, what are you investigating?"
"As I say, these suicides are clearly linked. Um... It's an unusual situation, we've got our best people investigating."
I laugh at that statement. I couldn't trust that man's judgement. Apparently the mystery person agreed as their phones began to buzz again. I took another sip from my glass. One of the reporters speaks,
"It says "Wrong" again."
The lady behind the table speaks.
"One more question."
A lady reporter speaks up this time.
"Is there any chance that these are murder? And if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?"
I look on, waiting for his answer.
" I..." the inspector stutters, "I know you'd like writing about these, but these do appear to be suicides. We know the difference"
I scoff and finish my glass.
"The poison was clearly self-administered."
"Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?"
"Well, don't commit suicide."
The energy of the room quickly gets awkward. I see the lady whisper to the Inspector and he quickly fixes his statement.
"Obviously, this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all as safe as we want to be."
Their phones beep again and I smirk at the screen. They all look at their phones and the Inspector picks his up and looks at it slightly surprised. He pockets his phone and thanks the reporters before walking out the room.
I turn off the tv and walk over to my record player. I pull out my Nina Simone record and I Put a Spell On You begins to play. I sway my hips along as I move over to the couch and pull out my laptop. I begin to look over the first few chapters of the novel I've been given to edit. I sit there for the next few hours, frustrated with how much an author doesn't know how to spell. By this time, my record has stopped and I've been sitting in silence.
After close my laptop and hating my life for a few minutes, I walk over to the fridge and pull out some leftover pasta I had last night for dinner and reheat it. I sit on my couch debating the moments in my life. It was quiet and fairly lonely in my tiny flat. I thought about whether I should get a pet or not, to keep me company. It would have to be a cat due to my lifestyle so I looked up shelters near me.
As I did my search, I heard the faint sound of a violin coming through the walls and I begin to smile. My neighbor played it quite a lot during the night. But being the music lover that I am, I didn't mind it at all. In fact, I welcomed it. Before I knew it, I felt myself getting sleepy and I had barely closed my laptop before I curled up on the couch and fell asleep.
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First Chapter Down!
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This will definitely be an interesting book to write but I'm excited to see how far I'll be able to go.
*Cue Moana song in the background*
Anyway, If anyone is reading this. I hope you enjoy my telling of this storyline
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Onto the next Chapter.