Unfinished- add on
Rena:
The door knocked as I slowly shuffled out of bed from my sleepless night. The room was cold with the thick air still. As I left the bedroom, the gray clouds outside colored the living room with charcoal shadows.
“Who’s there?” I whispered against the door.
There were squeaks of shoes on the other side. “Hey Rena, it’s Matt. I’ve got your puzzles.” I stared through the peephole. It was him. I opened the door and allowed some space for him to come inside. “Actually, I can’t today. I’ve got a lot of deliveries to make and the rain’s going to slow me down.”
I let out a sharp breath of air, gripping the door until my knuckles turned white.
“I’m sorry,” he held out the clipboard. “Next time, I promise.”
Next time, I promise. Hearing the familiar words made me cringe. The thick air seemed suffocating. Fear rushed through my veins as sweat poured out onto my forehead. I grabbed the clipboard, scribbled an illegible signature and slammed the door shut. I flung the puzzles next to couch and rushed to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face over and over again, needing to wake up from the memories flashing through my head. There were knocks on the door. I heard Matt calling my name, asking if everything was okay, but there was no going back there. I ran the water in the tub for a bath and climbed in. Matt’s constant knocking was in beat with the pounding in my head. I went under, the warm water seeping through my ears. Everything slowed down. I didn’t feel the pulse of adrenaline through my veins or the struggle to forget.
Rena. Over and over again. I popped my head out of the steaming water, splashing out waves onto the floor. He had closed the door and was outside sitting against it. “I didn’t want to make you upset. I just-“
“What are you doing here?” I covered myself with a towel. I shivered as the water evaporated from my skin.
“I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I pulled on my pajamas and opened the door. He quickly got up on his feet. “I’m fine,” I squeezed past him and went into the living room. Matt quietly followed behind me. I turned to face him, “Stop following me like that.” I sat down on the couch, crunched up.
He sat down next to me. “Rena, I want to be your friend,” he gently held my hand. I pulled away. “Please, take care of yourself.”
“Always do,” I mumbled.
He rubbed his eyes. “Staying inside all day isn’t taking care of yourself.” He looked into my eyes.
“Staying inside means that I won’t get hurt,” I argued.
He stood up. “Look at you. You’re a walking skeleton. You’re hands are cold all the time. You shake and tremble whenever I come near you. You even have bed sores. How long do you stay in bed? Rena, this isn’t taking care of yourself. Staying inside is what’s hurting you.”
“I do just fine. I didn’t ask for your opinion on how I live.”
Matt sat down next to me again. “You deserve better than to live inside with fear from whatever it is.”
I coiled my wet hair. “Please, just go.” I looked away. With a few dragging seconds, he was at the door.
“I’ll see you next week,” he softly closed the door behind him. I felt cold and wet for the rest of the day.
Matt:
The windshields wiped the fat raindrops off onto the streets. Even with the heat turned up, my hands shivered with every spin of the wheel. I rubbed my frozen face at a red light, trying to forget Rena’s sunken eyes and her frail frame. The car behind me honked impatiently as my phone rang.
“Hello?” I answered.
It was Mr. Cohen. “Matt, has Jen called you today?”
My clammy hands slipped against the steering wheel. “No, is something wrong?”
I heard the worry in his voice, “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong. I was just curious. Are you almost done with the deliveries?”
“Yes, I have-” an incoming call came before I had the chance to finish. “Mr. Cohen could I call you back?” He hung up as I picked up the call.
“Matt?”
I pulled over. “Jen? Where are you?”
Cars honked in the background, “Matt, I’m in New York City. The detective told me that the last place anyone saw Bradley was here.”
“New York City? Does your dad know about this? Who’s this detective you keep bringing up?” I shot questions at her.
“Look, I don’t have that much time. My dad doesn’t know. I haven’t called him. I’m so close, Matt. I just need a little more time. I swear, I’ll call him soon. The detective’s name is Nate Price. That’s all I know.”
“How do you know you can trust this guy?”
She hesitated. “I just do. It’s something about him that makes me feel like he’s going to find him. I know, he will.”
I sighed, “Jen, you should come-“
“No,” she cut me off, “I made a promise to myself that I would find him, if it’s the last thing I do. I have to go. I’ll call soon.”
The line ended.
-
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