A Rainy Day [COMPLETE]

Chapter 4

"Springfield High, sophomore year, Mrs. Duffrey's class," someone behind me breaks every twig of silence, hanging peacefully in the air. He shuts the door to my plain office and wanders over to my desk, sending vibrations through the floor.

"I don't follow," I rejoin casually as I carry out my work. My eyes follow the words on the screen as the tips of my fingers click the keyboard.

"That's where we met. Isn't that right?" I shake my head denying everything he says. "Your full name is Dannielle, but you hate being called that. That's why you go by Danni." I continue to mind my own business as he pursues the situation. "Alright then, I think it was cold and raining that night, but it didn't matter because I was with you, at your house, in your room, under the covers of your–"

"Why are you here?" I cut off his sentence, instantly turning my chair, and standing up in front of him, across from my desk.

"You were my first." I roll my eyes back. Now he's just toying with me.

"And you were mine—are we done here?" He chuckles under his breath and tilts his head down.

"I know your last name isn't Sharp. Isn't that right, Miss Pierce?" That's when he started to get on my nerves. When every cell in my body spiked in my blood and made it burn through my organs.

"Don't mention my parent's name," I clarify in a demanding tone.

"Your parents? What's wrong with your paren—" he attempts to ask but his words are thrown outside the door before they can be invited inside.

"One, they're not my parents, and two, they don't deserve to be treated like family." I turn back around and slip some of the paperwork into my bag.

"That's a little harsh," he comments with his gaze transfixed on me.

"Well, it's not like they treated me any better." A little flashback reoccurs in my head for a split second. The lies, the pain, and everything else floods back until I put up a barricade to the ocean of agony. I can still recall my mother's voice, echoing through my mind.

"What did they do to you?" I twist my neck to stare back at him.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yes, I would," he replies seriously. I take in a deep sigh as I lift my bag over my shoulder and gravitate towards the door. Unfortunately, some hunk of a man is blocking my way.

"I think I'll save that story for another day." He drops his arm and allows me to leave the room without giving him a black eye.

Jessie waves me goodbye as I blow her a kiss and then head for the elevator. Minutes later, I'm walking my way to the station, with the world lifting me with every step I take. No matter how exhausted I felt, there was a part of me that was beginning to feel whole again.

As I make my way to the subway station, I snatch out my Oyster card and scan it at the gate. When I arrive home, I switch on the lights, close my blinds, and get dressed for bed.

Just as I'm ready for the covers of my bed to envelope me of all my worries and sorrows, my phone goes off. I notice that there's no familiar name visible, only a lingering number reflecting the corners of my screen.

Nevertheless, I answer.

"Hi, sweetie! When can we come to visit? We booked our flights for about two and a half weeks from now." In that instance, I felt like I had been hit by eleven buses. Not one less, not one more. A thump sound drums in the room and the hand which was once holding my phone is trembling with fear.

How did they find me? Is all I can think of. Roaring thoughts are defiling my mind as my heart struggles to break out of my rib cage. Incessant babbling is leaving through the phone as I stand there, petrified. I can't breathe, I can't move, and the feeling of not being able to think is overwhelming me. I don't know how much time has passed by the time she hangs up and I'm learning how to walk again.

I didn't sleep at all that night. I stayed up making myself food and chowed down on everything in sight....and drank lots of coffee.

.........

It was early in the morning and I was at work struggling to stay awake. Every time my eyes closed the image of my parents washed through my mind and I instantly snapped them back open.

"Danni? Danni!" I heard my name being called and seconds later watched my door swing wide open. A man in a sharp suit and with no tie glides inside before closing the door.

"I was supposed to have a meeting twenty minutes ago with the board, only to find it was canceled because I couldn't make it, and I couldn't make it because I didn't know about it!" he babbles on, causing the slight headache in my brain to grow worse.

"Since when does a boss call his assistant by their first name?" I murmur to myself in thought.

"What?" Mr. Blake questions, unsure of what I said.

"I'll reschedule for you, Mr. Blake," I reply in a weary voice. I can barely pick my fingers up with every button I press.

"I'm free this Tuesday at nine a.m.," he says as I press my lips together and type away.

"That's on the.....twenty-first." I jot everything down into his calendar and schedule the meeting.

"Danni." Seriously, what was up with the whole first name deal?

"Yes?" I respond with my eyes barely open and glued to the screen.

"What's today's date?" He's standing over me like the Empire State Building, intimidating and powerful.

"Friday the....sixteenth."

"Wednesday the fourth. Are you doing alright?" My eyes flicker over to find his hands hidden in the pockets of his slacks.

"I'm fine." I return to my work as he leans on my desk, with his hands pushed against the surface of the table.

"You don't look fine." I ignore his comment and continue clicking around on my screen. His presence is beginning to get on my nerves and from what I know my nerves don't like to be bothered. "Jessie can take care of my appointments, I want you to go home and get some sleep." Almost instantly after he ended his sentence, I pushed aside my chair, stood to my feet, and grabbed his blazer along with his shirt, over the desk.

My eyes burn into his as I tighten my grasp on his suit. "I can't sleep!" I exclaim in a stressed-out voice of anger. He probably thinks I'm going insane, not that I wouldn't put it past him. As I realize my actions, my hands immediately release his blazer, and I step back.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." I try my best to avoid his eyes in anyway possible. The desk, the wall, the floor, maybe my desk again. He walks over to me, around my desk, and places a gentle hand on my back.

"Let's go," he says gently, guiding me to the door.

"Where are you taking me?" I catechize in an apologetic and sad tone.

"Home." I shove myself away from his hand and gawk him in the face. Yeah, I don't think so.

"I am perfectly capable of continuing my work. I don't need to go home."

.........

About twenty-five minutes later, we arrive at my apartment. He walks me up to the front of the building but I don't let him go any further than the lobby door.

"Will you be alright?" His hands are slipped underneath the layer of his pants again.

"Physically or emotionally?" I question him back with fatigue in my words. He stays quiet for a moment after my comment. "Goodbye, Mr. Blake." I wave him off and haul myself up the steps to my room then unlock my door, kick off my heels, and flop down on my bed.

I hate my life.