I lay there frozen still holding my phone to my ear as if Titanic would redial and offer some sort of explanation for the disorder in the background or tell me she was okay.
Tears trickled down my cheek and I dropped the silenced phone into the sea of comforters. I tried to comprehend what this phone call meant but as my eyes flooded with tears and my mind flooded with sorrow any form of analytics became impossible.
I dragged one of the lavender pillows over to me and clutched it to my chest as I sat in the darkness breathing shakily.
Who shot the gun?
Titanic's gone...and I'd never told her who my parents were, how they'd died or even that they'd died. I'd let her believe that my aunt was my mother and my father had left us long before I could learn his name.
I'd never wanted her to find out; I thought I could keep this secret that, it didn't mean anything. It was just my thing! between me, my psyche and my fear of cars. But deep down in that part of my mind that always knows the truth and is not afraid to shout it at the rest of me I knew it meant something. Their deaths meant something, not just to me but to the demons. I was connected to Titanic's weird freak show deaths. I was touched by the supernatural. I was just too ashamed to admit, too damn frightened of what that would mean. If the my parents in the grand scheme of,Water, Fire, Blood, fear the demon they will make, by crash of air he will wake, by the blood of the breeze his cage will break,were clash of air, what did that make me? There was after all only one thing I could be, I was the breeze.
"Hmm?" I mumbled wiping my eyes quickly as Keith leaned against the door frame.
"Yeah, I'm great." I tried to sound casual. "Just taking me longer to get my things than normal." I said. The more feverishly I wiped my eyes the more they leaked until I'd successfully soaked by coat sleeve.
"You need any help?"
"No." I moaned, rolling my eyes as yet more tears flowed down my checks at his words. "Thanks but no, I'm just..." I sighed trailing off. I tried to push myself up but my arms quivered weakly at the task and buckled under the weight.
"yeah, you can help." I sniffled doing my best to push back more tears. "I'm kind of stuck."
I picked up my phone, scanned the screen once more just for good measure before putting it into my pocket with my amulets.
He smiled pushing off the doorjamb easily and walking over to my side.
Not looking up I reached up and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. He cupped me around the back with one hand and slid the other under my knees. Pressing me gently to his chest he lifted me up.
"So, I've--I cleaned the place." He said, his gaze awkwardly avoiding my tear stained face. “They won’t find you.”
He carried me back to the car and we didn't talk the whole ride. Not like there'd been much lively conversation on the way here but this time the silence was not a friendly one. I sat alone with my thoughts, most daunting and miserable and Keith sat in confusion speaking directions to Natasha.
We stopped at cheap motel.
After sleeping for the better part of two days my body stopped being such an ache and my levels of adrenaline returned to normal after my near death experience.
I stood in from of the mirror fixing my short hair to cover the large bruise on the left side of my forehead, the dark bruising in a crescent around my eye and busted lip. I looked like an emo.
I sighed pushing my hair away from my eyes, at least the swelling had gone down but still this purple coloring was not attractive.
Tying my hair in a pony tail I fixed my olive blouse and searched in my bag for my makeup. But like glitter, candy and drugs makeup was hard to come by these days. Though, vanity had not vanished with the disappearance of Covergirl products from the shelves.
"Keith." I called, grabbing the grungy crutch he'd made me out of a street lamp and limping out of the bathroom.
He was sitting in the bedroom which also served as a living room, kitchen, study and library--oh yeah and an entrance hall. It was a very cheap motel.