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Life of A: Writer --- Sob
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My body refuses to react while my mind has already taken fifteen laps around the property. Blood in wineglasses are raised for the one they call Mother. A dead body inches from my face. A sheet that has been covering my very eyes from the moment my family and I stepped foot into this town being pulled away and I am slipped into the place of nightmares. I have to admit, I never saw this coming. Thinking now, I would have imagined a whole bunch of other things. Gang violence, men and women in the drug trade, serial killings the police were keeping covered for their own benefit. Hell, even aliens would make more sense right about now and I could at least digest that. But never that I would be sitting around a table with people readying themselves to stick a fork into the man that was found at City Hall months ago.

Finally, my body reacts and I am up on my feet, knocking my chair backward and Mother--glass still raised--stops midsentence, shocked and appalled. I don't wait for her response. I can already tell from the men and women on both sides of the table that my interruption should never be considered again and that Mother is about to give me a good lashing about respect and that this cult does not allow for outsiders to step in like they own the joint. Yes, I said it! A cult--that's exactly what this is!

I am running out the door in seconds, the dining room turning to chaos as Mother hollers for the others to catch me quickly. As I am down the stairs of the front porch, I can hear the thunder of footsteps pummelling the floor behind me. Somebody shrieks--an attempt at a war cry--and he lands on the ground feet to my right. I twirl of him immediately, grabbing a branch from the ground. It's Morgan, hands at the ready, waiting for me to lower my guard so that he can grab me.

"There's no point in running."

I glance back up at the porch. Mother is standing with her arms over her front side, leaning up against the nearest banister, her cronies gathering left and right. I don't reply. I take a step back, checking where Morgan is in relation to me and seeing that he hasn't moved. No, he's readying himself to pounce the moment I let my guard down.

"You can't run away from who you are truly meant to become."

I notice Morgan try to step toward me and with all my might, I slug him in the side of the head with the branch. Then I flee.

I don't know how far I've traveled or how long I've been running. Moisture from the damp ground wets my toes of my sandals and the temperature has dropped considerably. Even breathing has become too much of an effort and it's like needles are in every breath I take. I don't stop, though. Where am I going? Where am I going? I can't go home. I left my car back at the party and there is no way I am going back to get it. Not now, especially when finally, after what's felt like hours, the men and women once calling my name has since disappeared. I decide to rest for a moment, finding the biggest tree and dropping to the ground behind it. I am drenched in sweat, shivering, on my hands and knees. What little moonlight comes through the intertwining branches above aids the sight of my surroundings and any pursuers, yet it does very little to aid my rising hysteria. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, though I know it will reveal my location in case anybody is hot on my tail. Instead, I curl up into a ball on the ground, cover my face and sob. I want to do this for as long as I need to, hours if I can, but I know I don't have that kind of time. I can only imagine what Mother's people are cooking up, where they are.

And suddenly, I wonder if this is what happened to John Doe that horrible night before he was found at City Hall. Was he too invited to a gathering where instead of agreeing to Mother's way, tried to get as far away as possible and got caught before he ended up getting help?

Just the thought alone has me back on my feet and I am moving again.

I make it out of the other side of the woods to the street and hail a cab. I just tell the driver to drive with no decision where to go. I could speak with the cops, but after my last talk with them and calling them repeatedly about my belief that Kam was missing, I doubt they are going to be too willing to help me so soon. I know that's their job, but when one cries wolf...

Then a thought hits me. Kam! I give the driver directions to the area of Rose's apartment. I can't remember where it is exactly, but if I can just get to the general area... It's not a far drive there, though a few minutes out, the driver gets a mysterious phone call and I don't get a good feeling. Just the way he glances in the rearview mirror at me gets my heart pounding. Mother and her people wouldn't have power over him, would they? I'm in no position to ask. I tell the driver that this is close enough, open the door, throw what little money I have at him and beeline down the sidewalk and through alleys to distance myself from him.

I make it to Rose's apartment not long after. I have a stitch in my side, and getting up the stairs is more of a hobble. Being so close to safety has brought my hysteria down a bit. Not a lot but a bit. I check over my shoulder as I close in on her door. Nobody nearby. The area is silent and in the distance I struggle to see life. It must be late.

At Rose's door, I knock. And knock. And knock. And knock and knock and knock!

"You've got to be kidding me!" I say and thunder erupts above me and it starts to rain harder. I try the handle like the last time I came here. I'm not so lucky. Locked. I bang on the door more and with no answer, I decide to make my way down the walkway. Rose's apartment is the last in the line and a railing stops me from going any farther. There is a small path on the other side though, probably for maintenance workers. I climb over the railing and follow it. I manage to get to a window. I look in. It's dark, but with the moonlight helping me I can almost make out a figure or two. I scream at the top of my lungs and bang hard on the glass.

"Hey!" I scream again, and finally, the lights turn on.

Kam is propped up on one elbow, his other arm having just turned on the lamp next to him. He squints at me, his eyes adjusting and like a whack a mole, Rose pops up from behind him. I can't hear him, but I know Kam's just said something along the lines of "What the hell?" and surely Rose is prattling beside him with something like, "Are you serious?"

I bang on the window again. "Help me, please!"

Kam motions to the front door and I run as fast as I can to it.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks me. The doors open, but he's got his arm against the frame, keeping me from coming inside. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Kam, Kam, listen to me! You need to listen to me! They wanted me to come to their party and then there was John Doe and they're after me, they're chasing me and you need to let me inside--"

"What are you going on about? Have you been drinking? It's two in the morning."

How could he think I was drinking? And of all things, why does that matter? Can't he see how much I need him right now? How I need help? In my head it sounds so clear, but when I speak, I can't get it out.

I can sense he is about to tell me to go home and close the door, so I grab his arm. "I need you, Kam--"

He turns away. "You sound like Gretchen," he mumbles. "I'm calling you a taxi."

"No, no, please, Kam, no, please!" I'm balling now. It won't come out!

Behind him I can see that while Rose is not thrilled of being woken up at two in the morning, she has a shade of uncertainty on her face.

"Kam," she says softly. She's grabbed the phone before his hands can reach it. "Get her settled. I'll deal with this." Between them they share a look of understanding and then Kam's back at my side. He leads me to the back of the room and says that he is going to make me some tea. I got to the washroom and splash water on my face. Kam gives me a towel to put over me when I exit--he's gotten into a pair of pants and thrown a shirt on--and then hands me a cup of tea and I am so exhausted I slide to the floor and lean against the side of the bed.

"What happened?" he asks me after a few minutes and sits next to me. And I tell him. I tell him everything. From being invited to the party and seeing John Doe and how I think it may have all been connected. Rose is in the other part of the room where the sofa and television is.

I put my free hand over Kam's. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," he says and for a few moments we look into each other's eyes and then there's a knock at the door.

My anxiety spikes and I drop the empty cup on the floor. Kam assures me everything is fine and, with Rose at his side, answers the door.

"Kameron Lennox?" The voice is of a man and not one I recognize. I peek around the corner of the wall and see a man in uniform at the door. He shows them his badge. "You called about an incident?"

Rose takes a step forward. "I did. She's just in the other room."

My eyes narrow as everything becomes a blur. Like how the officer steps inside and Kam leads him to me.

"This isn't the first incident with her tonight. The department's gotten two other complaints regarding her reckless behaviour," the officer says. Even if he's stopped feet from me, he speaks as if I'm not even there. "First was a party on the other side of town where she trespassed and vandalized their property. Even left her car there."

"Chasity told me they were the wrongdoers," says Kam. "Something about the John Doe case..."

"I have a dozen witnesses that say otherwise," the officer tells him. "And the John Doe case was closed a while ago. His body is safe."

"There's somebody working behind the scenes!" I state. "Somebody is working double time for Mother and the police!"

The officer presses his lips into a straight line. "The second instance tonight was when she refused to pay the fare for her cab. Have you noticed any difference in her behaviour over the past few months?"

Though reluctant, Kam looks at the floor and nods his head.

"I'm going to take her down to the station and we'll progress from there," the officer says and I am brought to my feet, with men holding me on both sides, and I am marched out of the room like I am some criminal. As I look back, I catch a glimpse of Kam. I expect that he is going to help me, be at my side or even have some form of empathy on his face. Instead, his hand is linked with Rose's and they kiss.

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