Everywhere was a mess.
In one night, Riverdale, that small safe town I grew up in turned upside down when it recorded its first murder in the last 20 years and the people were going crazy about it. Local newspapers that I didn’t know existed were struggling to be the first to publish the story bits that they could gather from the police and people close by. Locals were scared and being watchful. And me? I was losing it! I knew that feeling. It was a very familiar feeling every child growing up must have had. That kind of feeling when you know dad has a big surprise for mum on her birthday but you have to keep it a secret when you badly want her to know what he has planned for her. That feeling of being the only one who knows a big secret ,sometimes dangerous and overwhelming--most times great and amazing , there's so much to risk if you let it out and so you watch how things unravel or maybe just spill it out."Constantine sure got herself a fine one"Detective Roman.We were sitting across from each other at a café near the police station. He must have sensed how uncomfortable I felt around so many policemen when he asked us to take the interview somewhere else and I was grateful.Even sitting before him now, I couldn’t forget the awkward moment a while ago when I stared at him like a complete moron. He was good-looking no doubt and from the look he gave me when I stared absentmindedly at him, he must get that a lot . Not your regular Riverdale kind of good-looking but a rough, refined and sophisticated kind. He was dressed in a blue button up shirt that showed little of his chest in the part that wasn’t buttoned with muscles that made him all the more manly and the smell of sandalwood coming from him was nothing short of marvelous. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t from Riverdale. And if he was, he must not have been around much.&n
Fear. They say you never know the true meaning of fear and how dangerous it can be until it becomes visible . Mine was in the form of a man with heart-stopping gorgeousness and nerve-wrecking brutality. My fear was as visible as it can be, seated on my kitchen table ,slinging a bunch of keys in his hands and helping himself to a cup of coffee from the coffee maker in my kitchen. Sitting there, he looked so natural and fit into the simplicity of the place like he owns it and like I was the intruder in my own home. Run. That was the only word my numb brain could process when I finally weighed the situation. I turned and only moved a foot when his voice stopped me "Don’t even think about it" Too late. I tried to steady my harsh breathing as I turned slowly to look at him , hands all shaky and sweaty. Even in my predicament , I didn’t fail to acknowledge how exceptionally good h
Home.Just the sheer thought of it gives a certain feeling of warmth and security. That four lettered word that assures you of love and utmost safety just by thinking about it. You forget how hard the world is coming at you and the terrible turns your life is taking. Home. It's a place you feel nothing can ever chase you right into. I guess my definition of a home was never right from the start.He was everywhere.My home, my work….basically , my life. And the thought that I have nowhere to run to anymore terrifies me more than anything I've ever felt.It was like hours have passed already but in reality , it was only a few seconds. My heart didn’t fail to do what it knows how to do best when I'm with him. It pounded against my chest like crazy and I've stopped trying to figure out if it was from the fear of getting killed or from the closeness of our bodies. One of his big hands held me against the gre
"Great news everyone!"Piece of advice, whenever Julia barges into the office ,hair ruffled like she travelled the whole world in a few minutes to give us the hottest news on the plate , covered in sweat and breathing hard with her chubby arms flaying in directions as she relays the news, it's never good news.And I guess everyone now has the same sentiment as I do as no one even turned to look. Unwaveringly concentrated on one thing or the other. Some meaningful and others, totally pointless. It made me think, maybe everyone had a killer as their next door neighbor and can't let the world know for fear of killing your family who seems too familiar with the killer whose identity you're trying to keep a secret and trying to keep them safe from. Is life allowed to be this complicated? Whatever it is that's eating everyone up , no one can have it worse than I do."What is it now Julia? Are our cubicles get
Painting.Wide eyed scary paintings that look like they are staring at me from all corners of the room was the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes. Of course, they were blurred as my lids momentarily closed and opened again. All I can agree with was that the paintings were scary and shapeless with bulging eyes.The bed I was asleep on was too comfy and I knew instantly that it wasn’t mine. It was soft and hard all at once and I felt so relaxed just being on it. My subconscious was questioning the possibility of me being in my own house.Then voices. Faint whispering voicesI couldn’t figure out where they were coming from but they were too loud to be just silent whispers."You should have allowed me to take her to the hospital, you're no doctor Alice" That voice was familiar but I was yet to identify whom they were coming from. But Alice? Who's Alice? And wh
I woke up to my mother's call the sometime in the evening and if not for the banging headache that followed the moment I got off my bed, I wouldn’t have answered her call considering what I faced at the house with Dwyer days ago. But then again, maybe I should have just taken the ampicillin he offered me that morning."Charity, my darling" Her shrilly voice piped immediately I answered the call"Mum" I groaned. This was a completely bad timing. Maybe if I slept longer, I wouldn’t be suffering from such severe headache. Even as I answered her call, I wondered how I was able to fall asleep after such an encounter with the devil next door that morning and with a severe ache in the head that feels like I was being hit by something-hard. But I guess the body needs some rest after all."Is everything okay darling? Shayne called me yesterday and told me to keep an eye on you, is something wrong?"Sh
Coffee will forever remain a beautiful work of art.Starting from the glowing brown beans that are granulated into fine powder in the process and sieved with sparkling water with such tender carefulness and talented expertise to form an amazing dark colored drink of goodness that can be served at a preferred temperature with creamy milk and sugar to taste; it's an undeniable delight.Those were my thoughts as I sipped from the heavenly goodness of my instant coffee-the only kind my company could provide and not the one from a café and blended by a bartender that I can't stop thinking about.Not that I didn’t have anything else to think about, but that morning sitting in my cubicle and trying to arrange the simple stories at my desk ,I decided to bury myself in my work with the mantra: Work stays at work and Home stays at home though I tell you , I wasn’t looking forward to home and what it holds.
We've all had moments when it seemed like time took a brief stop to let us reflect on situations we find ourselves and chances we had to solve them. Times when it seemed like the whole world was crashing and you are in the middle of it. For some people, it might have been once--a near death experience mostly, and for others, it might have been so much that now it's countless. Be it the latter or the former, it doesn’t fail to leave you broken each time.Somehow, I keep finding myself in the category where I have lost count of the times I have found myself in that kind of situation and each time, I loose the will to blame someone other than myself for whatever situation I find myself in. The first time I ever felt like that was at the company's dinner night. The night that changed my life and brought me to where I was now. Situations like that don’t prepare you, it all starts out fun and the next thing you know, someone is getting drunk and babbling