I am not scary. Ugh. Maybe it was because of the wind, but it seemed to be following me. Or, rather not it, but her. I would think you’d say what?, or who?. Mysterious, right? No. It’s just my adopted daughter, Claire, and I playing with nerf guns. Let me tell you how I came to adopt her.
I was on the writer’s hill. It’s a place where people write. A building with several floors. There are multiple different rooms with a theme for each one. I go there all the time. It’s my favorite place.
Anywho, I was sitting in my usual spot. A girl came up to me. She had this red-orange hair, and it was all messy. She seemed unorganized a little since she was having a hard time holding all of her books.
Anywho, she’s walking towards me, and she stops about a foot away. Then, she looks down at me. She drops a book but doesn’t notice.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but you seem like you really know the way things work around here. So, I wanted to ask where you got the pencils and paper?”, she says, seemingly nervous. She just notices that she dropped her book and picks it up real fast.
“Sure. Just follow me. By the way, my name’s Vera Ann,” I say, holding my hand out.
“Flora. Flo, for short. It is so nice to meet you,” she says, shaking my hand vigorously. I can tell she’s having a tough time holding her books with one hand, so I let go pretty quick. I take her over to the paper section, where writers write their outlines and things on paper. Anywho, I picked up a paper and pencil for myself, and I started my way back to my usual spot. Flo stops me and taps me on my shoulder. I turned around to see her grinning at me. I noticed just then that she has some missing teeth. Anywho, I smiled back at her.
“Do you want to get coffee and brainstorm together sometime?”, she asks. I notice that she has these little dimples.
“Sure,” I say, not even knowing if I could. “We can set it up some time,” I say. “But right now, I have to write,” I say. Then, I walk over the hill and sit back down. She goes and sits on a bench right across from me. She keeps looking back at me.
Soon, it was already nine o’clock. I thought it was time to go home. I stood up and started gathering my things. Flo comes up to me again. This time, she’s got her phone in her hand.
“Could I get your phone number?”, she asks, stuttering a little this time. “To schedule the little one-on-one?”
“Yes, sure! Of course,” I say. I typed in my number, and named myself Vera Ann. Then, I took a picture of myself and put it as my profile picture. As I took it, I noticed her looking at me from behind in the camera. But I ignored it.
As soon as I got home, I went to bed. By now, it was 11 o’clock because I had also gone to a coffee shop to continue writing for about an hour and thirty minutes. I fell asleep fast.
I heard birds chirping outside. I had woken up. It was pretty light outside. I checked the time, and it was ten in the morning! I had overslept.
I was rushing to my car really quickly. I was still wondering how I had overslept. I had set an alarm last night.
When I got to work, my boss told me that everyone had been late because there had been a power outage last night. Most people’s alarm clocks had reset when the power came back on. So, luckily, I was excused.
Later, I was walking to the bathroom, and I saw someone that looked a little like Flo. The red-haired girl from writer’s hill. I didn’t pay much attention to it, but then she appeared right behind me.
“Oh! Hey. I didn’t know you worked here,” I say, picking my bag up.
“No, no. I don’t work here. I come to this cafe to write!”, she says nervously. I’ve never seen Flo here before. Maybe I just haven’t recognized her in the past. “I know you might think that I don’t really go here, but I do. I write on the second floor,” she says, almost seemingly proud for some reason.
“Ah, the second floor. I go there on break too sometimes. It’s really quiet up there,” I say.
“Okay, well… I oughta go now. Or I’ll be late for my writer’s group,” she says, giggling. She has a high voice. I felt a little suspicious about her, like she was following me, but I dismissed the assumption. I always did.
Later, I was at writer’s hill, and Flo pops up. Again. It’s like she’s everywhere. Or maybe she’s following me? No, I think. She mustn’t be following me.
“Hey! So, do you want to meet up at our coffee shop later for that one-on-one?”, she says.
“Ooh. Sorry, but I have work then. I picked up a few extra shifts just to earn a little extra money,” I say.
“That’s okay. Just text me when you’re free,” she says, and gives me a big grin. Then, she skips over to her usual spot.
Later that day, I was at the cafe when I saw two redheads. They came in and sat down. One was older than the other. Much older. The little girl might have been around six years old, and the other one might have been her mother. I decided to go get their orders.
“Hello, what can I get for you today?”, I say, with a nice smile on my face.
“Sorry, but could we not take orders yet? I’m waiting for my daughter, and I want her to be here when we order so that she can order what she wants,” the older lady says. This feels a little bit suspicious, but again, I dismiss it. This could just be another family of red-heads. It’s not that rare, right?
“Of course! I’ll check in on you in about 5 minutes, okay?”, I say.
“Sounds good. Thank you!”, she says.
About a few minutes or so later, I see Flo come into the cafe. What?!, I think. Crazy, right?
It’s like she was stalking me. Or was she working together with her family? I sighed. I felt so paranoid. It had been like this ever since my father died. He was murdered by someone with red hair. And this? It’s giving me… weird vibes. Maybe I’m just being delusional, I think. So, I dismissed it. Again. Wrong choice! I’ll tell you why. Anyhow, let’s continue our story.
I go to check on them.
“Hello! Ready to order?”, I say.
“Yes. Sure. I’ll have a cappuccino wi-”, she’s cut off short.
“Vera Ann! Wow! I didn’t think you would be working at this time! I’m so sorry. It seems like I’m stalking you, right?”, she says and laughs. I laugh awkwardly.
Maybe it’s the fact that she’s sort of admitting that she’s not purposely stalking me, but it calms me. I stopped having doubts a little bit. Again, wrong choice. Anywho, I continue taking their order.
“What was that, miss?”, I say, and take their orders.
By the time I get home, it’s already ten at night. I plop onto my bed and grab my laptop. I write a little bit, but I’m not very inspired, so I just go to sleep.
The next morning, I wake up to the smell of something burning. Next thing I know, the fire alarm turns on. I have to cover my ears while I run through my apartment to find out what’s burning.
I run into the kitchen, finally, and notice that my turkey is burning. Oh, god. I had forgotten to turn off the oven when I went to sleep last night, and it had overcooked. I was going to give it to my mother. I turned it off, and threw the turkey in the dumpster. Sad, right? This is my life for now.
I’m at work, and thankfully, I didn’t see Flo again. I needed a break from her.
I’m at Writer’s Workshop, and I go to the third floor instead of the second. It’s the coffee shop level, not like the writer’s hill one. Anyway, I’m there, and you guessed it: Flo shows up. This, of course, raised my suspicion again. So, I Was having doubts about whether or not I should believe her. Anywho, she came up to me.
“Would you want to have coffee sometime?”, she says with a big grin on her face.
“Sure. Sorry for bailing on you last time,” I say.
“It’s okay,” she says. “As long as you come this time,” she says, gritting her teeth. Okay, that’s definitely weird…, I think. Again with the assumptions, Vera?
This must be boring, right? Well, this was my boring life. It was the same thing every day. Even on the weekends. Go to work, go to Writer’s Workshop, and go home. Heh. Pathetic, right? But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s continue.
I was at home, and I got a call from Carter.
Before we go on, let me introduce you to Carter. Carter is my best friend of almost thirteen years. I had a crush on him, but I was not sure I should tell him. There was this magnetic-like energy when I was around him. Anywho, let’s continue our story.
I answered the call.
“Hello? Carter?”, I say.
“Hey, Vera!”, he yelled, and laughed. I laughed, too. “Do you want to come over to the studio? I’m feeling a little lonely because I have no more classes.”
“Sure. I’d love to. I have nothing else to do, anyway,” I say.
I arrived at his studio. And yes, he owns a dance studio.
I came in, and he’s waiting for me with a box of pizza. My favorite. He knows me so well. We ate some pizza and chatted for a while.
Then, he gets up and I do too.
“Well, it’s time I go home…”, I say as I look up into his eyes. He doesn’t say anything and just stares into my eyes. He gets closer and closer as he bends down.
Finally, he kisses me. I stop and smile at him.
“Bye,” I say, and give him a warm smile.
When I got home, I watched some TV. It was pretty boring, and I was about to shut it off. But, I saw something that completely inspired me. I took out my notebook, and started to write.
And I wrote. For hours, too. I drove to the Writer's Workshop, which is where I would work best. It was open twenty-four hours a day. Anyhow, I went.
When I looked at the time, it was already four in the morning.
I went to the nearest twenty-four hour coffee shop and bought two cups of coffee for myself.
Later, when I was writing, I noticed that my writing was clearly inspired by the prospect of love. The possibility of true love. Maybe it was because of the advertisement on my TV, or the fact that Carter kissed me.
I looked at the time, and by now, it was seven in the morning. I had to go to work now.
When I got there, I was really tired, even though I drank two cups of straight-up caffeine. Heh. Fatigue really does betray you. Anywho, I was putting on my apron and getting ready to work, when Flo showed up.
“Hey, girlfriend!”, she yells. “Still up for our one-on-one?”
“Sorry, Flo. I truly am sorry, but I have to write after work before I lose my train of writing,” I say with a sad face.
“It’s okay. I understand. It happens. I would do it too,” she says, gritting her teeth again. Then, she walks out of the coffee shop, and I can sort of see her mad face. Then, through the glass, I see something. Her bending down and hugging that little girl her mom came in with the other day. I could see her calling her… mommy..? That little girl was her daughter, not her mother’s!
I felt so bad for rejecting her so many times, since I can relate.
Later that day, I invited her to come to the cafe when it was closed.
She came in ten minutes later into the empty cafe.
“Hey!”, I say. “Sorry for bailing on you so much. It’s just that… I have to provide for my mother and myself. She’s sick,” I say.
“Really? But you’re only seventeen!”, she yells. “So, I’m going to have to be honest, too…”
“Yes?”, I say, tilting my head.
“I have a daughter,” she says, looking down.
“That’s okay. I understand,” I say.
“Really?! She yells.
“Of course,” I say, with a warm smile. We hug, and have a chat over some coffee.
The next day, when I wake up, I go to my mother’s room. She’s sleeping soundly. I sigh and go into the kitchen to make her breakfast. Then, I hear her scream so loud, I jump.
I immediately rush to my mother, and there is blood all over the room.
“Mother! No!”, I yell, sobbing. She was cut with a knife in the stomach multiple times. By now, she was dead. I was sobbing on the floor, when I heard something coming from the close. I looked inside, and I saw Flo there, with a bloody knife. It was curvy and had words on it. They said SERVE JUSTICE.
She stuck it in my waist, twisted it, and ran. As she was running, I saw the blood in her hair. It almost matched her hair color. Then, she jumped out the window. I immediately stumbled to my phone and called the police.
Then, I dropped to the floor, and everything went black.
I became conscious, and heard beeping. I knew I was in the hospital almost instantly. I opened my eyes to see my aunt.
“Doctor Sprinali? Doctor!? Vera Ann’s awake! Come! Quick!”, she yells.
“Aunt Catalina?”, I mumble.
“Where’s mom?”, I said, looking around. I sit up and stare at her. She gives me a look, after which I know immediately that she’s gone. I covered my mouth and cried.
Just then, Doctor Sprinali came in and said “She’s stable, but her wound is still not healed. Please be very careful. And, Miss Kendall, you will be excused from work for the next six weeks. You need to recover. Your wound is very bad,” he says.
“How much longer will I be in the hospital?”, I ask.
“About five weeks. But, we will be putting you on bed rest at home for one more week until you can go to work,” he says. All I can think is what will I do without mom..?! and how can I live anymore??.
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✩ TO BE CONTINUED ✩
✩ NEXT ISSUE WILL BE PUBLISHED ON MAY 10, 2023! ✩
✩ THANK YOU FOR READING ISSUE #1! ✩
✩ PUBLISHED BY: ♡ ✩
✩ DATE PUBLISHED: MAY 6, 2023 ✩
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