"Amelia"

Chapter 15: Price To Be Paid

It wasn't something to be wasted on little words. This event deserved a film, with sadly, no encore. Yet, it didn't even deserve the last words ever spoken between Amelia and Levi.

"You won't." Amelia teased with a twisted smile.

"Watch me." Levi replied staring deeply into her pale blue eyes; trying to find his courage again.

Within a moment Levi hit the ground and threw the gun to the side. Tears streamed down his cheeks and into his bare calloused hands. Amelia watched as this man-- as this boy she once admired, perhaps even loved, broke down and begged her to forgive him. She watched as he looked up to her for a sign. He looked up, and Amelia was gone.

She wouldn't ask anymore questions, because the look in his eyes showed his conscious filthier than used dishwater.

Amelia admitted to be shocked that Levi seemed to just let her go, then again, to him it probably seemed like she had just left on her own.

Walking down the street in jeans and a bra, Amelia felt extremely uncomfortable. She was thankful that her house was next door, though nearly a football field away. She looked under the mat for the key, but couldn't find it. She then came to realize that Nicole and her mom were out of town and they took the spare key.

Amelia pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

"Hello, 911; what's your emergency?" The operator asked.

"Hello. This is Amelia Montgomery. I am sitting at 312 Pine street and I want to report the location of a murderer." Amelia responded as quickly and calmly as she could manage.

"What murder and whom?"

"The murder of the Brooks family. And the two murders are Levi Miller and Micah Schmitt."

"Ma'am is this a prank call?"

"No, I'm being honest. Levi just put a gun to my chest."

"How did you escape?"

"He-- he just let me go."

"Ma'am, prank calling this number is a federal offense."

"It's not a prank call. It's--" and with that Amelia was cut off by a sharp dial tone.

She sat under the small shelter the end of her roof provided and called the only other person she could think of.

"Hello?" Emmy answered with a sneeze.

"God bless you. Emmy, can you come and get me. Please." Amelia said trying not to sound as though she was begging.

"Sure, hun. Where at?"

"My house."

"Can you not get in?"

"No."

"I'm coming, but it might take me a bit; I have to get Ezra and finish cooking the pizza. It should take me about half and hour to get there. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Are you alright? You sound different."

"Yea, but Emmy can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Tell me it'll be okay."

"Amelia, it'll be okay. I'll be there is less than half and hour and then we'll go to my house and you can finished the watercolor you painted for the baby."

"How is the baby? I totally forgot to ask."

"It's doing great. Neutral colors until it's born because Michael likes surprises."

"I think it's a girl. Just so you can name her Cadence."

"She'd be my little Dancer."

"Or mine." Amelia laughed.

"Okay. Okay. Well, I'm going to come and get. Just stay there."

"Okay. Love you Emmy."

"Love you more, Amelia."

They exchanged this goodbye like they had many times before.

For awhile Amelia thought of the baby and Emmy and all the joy in her life. Emmy denied it most of the time, but she also hoped for a girl. She also hoped that her little girl would develop a love for the arts. Not just the painting and sculpting part, but the writing and the music and the photography. She wanted a girl because most girls see things differently.

While boys, she'd noticed, mostly saw black and white, girls seemed to see more than that; a gradient mixture of greys with a dash of color to encourage a more vibrant and versatile answer. It wasn't that she didn't have hope for Ezra, but she knew that Michael would shape him into a man. He would be kind, yet strong. Wise, yet prideful. Just like his father.

A while later, Amelia began to see the bad things that she had left behind. The razor still sat under her dresser, but the blade was rusted and worthless. The towel stained blood red had been thrown away long ago. Her empty easel by the window now held multiple watercolors. The darkness that once encircled Amelia was closing.

Driven from thought by a crack of thunder, Amelia saw that it was pouring rain and a puddle of rainwater had gathered around her feet. The hems of her jeans were being soaked, and the house brought her no comfort. In the moment she realized that it had been nearly and hour since she'd called Emmy. Nearly and hour since she promised everything would be okay.

But as Michael pulled up in the back of a police car, and stepped out into the rain, Amelia realized that nothing would ever be okay again.