Unfinished- add on
Rena:
There’s a way to never let go, but then there’s another way to just forget. Where everything and anything means nothing. Living inside, unable to venture out, causes one to take those two ways and merge them into one road, which one will constantly take because it’s the only way one knows to go. The constant reminder in my flesh. The sounds echoing in my ears. The fear eating at my heart. Always kept in the shadows in the back of my mind.
There was commotion outside of my apartment door. I slowly, with sweaty palms, crept onto my tiptoes to look at the hallway. Through the distorted peephole, I saw three large men, bundled up with their big parkas and their dragging jeans way below their waists. The man in front of the other two, clearly the leader, banged on the door, barking at the person inside to pay up. He slammed his foot into the door, shaking the door and chipping the paint off. He heaved after kicking the door a couple of times, failing to get the person to open their door.
One of the other men, on the left, touched him on the shoulder, “Maybe he ain’t home.”
“Yeah, we should go. We don’t need nobody asking us questions and having them call the police,” said the one on the right.
“Shut up. Don’t you think I know that?” The man in front turned and spat on the floor, right before my door. “If he ain’t home next time, I’ll tear his whole life apart. And I’ll start with his apartment. I’ll kill him and his family. All of them.”
He looked up at my door. I realized that I had been holding my breath. I saw his face, then. He squinted at the door as if he could see me through it. He took a step closer to my door, but quickly dropped his gaze and turned his head toward a door down the hall that was opening. The three men quickly scattered the other way.
Matt:
I watched as he bent down to leave behind the bright pink cosmos in the damp grass. He leaned a hand on his knee to support himself get up. He was a weak man, now. He had nothing left in the world besides his house that was older than him and a son he would never be proud of or love. Staring helplessly at the empty space around him, he sighed and made his way out of cemetery.
I went over to where he had stood a moment ago, his shoe impressions still visible in the grass that had been pushed down by his weight. I sat down in front of her and cleared the dead leaves that were covering the marble.
I laid my head on my hands, “You look beautiful today, Rose.” I let the wind take my words. I picked at my thumb. “I thought I’d bring you some cosmos, but Dad always brings you those so I brought some sunflowers for you. I got them down by the deli, where you always went. Mr. Liskin had taken good care of his garden and told me that these are just the small ones, but they were perfect. It’s getting pretty cold. We’re expecting some snow by the end of the week.”
I picked my hood up and allowed the silence to soak in. “I met a girl a couple of months ago,” I pulled the grass. “Her name’s Rena Spero. She orders puzzles all the time and I help her with them. I mean she’s shy and fearful, but I guess it’s because I’m just some stranger. She likes ballet like you.” I looked up at her name. I leaned over and ran my fingers over it, memorizing the grooves of each turn in the letters. I kissed her name and stood up. “The hunter’s key lies within the hunted’s heart. I promise to remember.”
