07

1.9K 93 13
                                    

TONIGHT I DREAM about her. She wears a shade of white almost as pale as her porcelain skin.


Pierced into her hair like a bed of thorns are roses as red as her lips. She heads down a dark path and I call unto her — “Mother. Mother. Mother.”

She does not listen. It is almost as if she is deaf to the world around her. I sense the doom ahead of her but when I attempt to ran after her — a force holds me back but lets me watch.

A pack of men like wolves materialize around her from the dark. I scream for her to ran but she does not hear me. Not until the men pluck the roses from her hair and rip the clothes from her skin — does she hear me.

A tear rolls down her cheek. Not for her sake but mine and Dad. He never deserved her. He sold her to them. Yet she cries for him as she looks to the side.

I look too before the real events of that night bleed before me. The masked man aims the cold barrel at me before he fires at me.

“No.” Mom screams. I close my eyes as I await the pain but it never comes. I look and see mom in a pool of her own blood.

Dad watches it all in silence. A silence torn in screams I do not even realize are mine. Police sirens pierce the silence too before the masked man turns to dad and shoots.

That is how I awaken from the dream painted in dramatized speckle of what transpired that night. I let out a breath and countdown from 10 like the therapist told me to years back.

It helps or at least that is what I have made myself think. I look to Isabella and discover that her bed is all made up and her backpack is nowhere to be seen.

I stand from the bed and walk to the desk where the bouquet of roses sit in a vase of water. I smell them before a sense of relief washes over me.

There is a note beneath them and it reads — “WHAT PART OF FORGET HIM DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? WHATEVER THE CASE — I TRIED TO WAKE YOU BUT FAILED AS USUAL. GOODBYE & ALL THE BEST ON YOUR AUDITION.

The audition! How could it have slipped my mind? It is in a week and I have not practiced. Not even once and I have to be at the police station at 9am.

I check the time and see that it is 8am. For the next 30 minutes I take a shower and floss before I dress up. I wear a simple white tee and blue Jeans . Then I eat as little as a Granola bar and head out the door.

The wind is worse and it blows the curls of my hair all over the place. I secure the hair in a bun and walk to the police station.

It is not that far off campus and I need the exercise for the fries I ate for dinner. As I head down the street I cannot help but feel watched. I look behind and no one is there.

I decide that I am Just paranoid. I reach the police station at 9 sharp and head for the reception. “I was told to report here?”

“Name?”

“Carina Gonzalez.” I tell her before she points to the room down the hall. When I reach the door — I knock before the person behind the door shouts — “Come in.”

When I open the door — it reveals Detective Damien behind his desk. The door closes behind me before he speaks — “Take a seat.”

He looks solemn or at least more solemn than he was before. I take a seat in front of him. He lets out a heaved breath before he starts.

“We retrieved the video from the phone.” He let out another breath.  “However — Ricco was found dead in his cell this morning.”

“What happened?”

“He committed suicide.”

“What? I know Ricco. He would never do that.”

“Unless someone made him. Someone who he was scared of.”

“He was not scared of a—” I start to tell the detective but I remember his words the afternoon of the accident. He was scared of Salvatore but for what reason?

“You have to tell us what you knew about Ricco.”

“I never knew him that well.”

“What about his boss?”

“I also do not know his boss that well.”

“You were spotted kissing his boss.”

“So?”

“You cannot kiss a man you do not know that well.”

“I can.” I respond before I lean in across the desk and smash my lips onto his to prove a point. Just then the door behind us opens. I come back to my senses and pull back.

When I turn I see one of the other male officers. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen. He stutters what sounds like an apology and leaves.

I turn back to Detective Damien whose jaw is set in a hard lock. He then proceeds to tell me. “You cannot do that.”

“I just did.” I respond.

“If the roles were reversed you would have been behind bars Carina. This is not a game and Salvatore LaGuardia is not to be messed with.”

I scoff. “I can mess with whoever I want. I am out of here. Do not call me or else I shall have Salvatore deal with you.”

“In the same manner he dealt with your parents?” He questions before throws a document across the table. “Read it. Perhaps it will knock some sense into you about the man you want to mess with.”

The document reads. “RENOWNED POLITICAN ENRIQUE GONZALEZ AND HIS WIFE FOUND DEAD AFTER BANKRUPTCY CLAIMS & FAILURE TO PAY BACK THEIR DEBT TO YOUNG MULTI-BILLIONAIRE & CEO OF THE BLACK TOWER — SALVATORE LAGUARDIA.

...

THANK YOU FOR READING.
PLEASE VOTE. COMMENT. SHARE.

DARK DEEDS Where stories live. Discover now