Naitee
I wake with a start.
Someone is standing in the door way.
"Omg what the hell is--?!" Ross steps forward and in his hands is a tray with food.
"Good morning baby." I sit up slowly and rest my back against the wall while Ross just stands there. He walks forward and places the tray down on the bedside table.
"Goodmorning-- dad." He smiles at me and puts his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
"Well I thought I bring you breakfast." I nod and sweep my hair away from my face.
"Thanks, it looks great!" I pick up the tray and put it in my lap. It's scrambled eggs and a dry toast. Both foods I hate, the 'normal' Ross would know that and that just shows how deep into his delusion he is.
I lift the fork with the eggs to my lips after he just stood there and watched me for a minute and force myself to chew on it without grimacing. I swallow and smile.
"It tastes great!" I say while nodding, hoping that he will leave so I can dump this shit somewhere. Even food I like was hard choking down knowing that he killed my parents but this is just over the line. But he doesn't leave, he stands there watching until I've eaten every single thing on the tray.
He takes the tray from my lap and his hands linger just a second to long on my thighs. I resist the urge to shudder from his too cold hands.
"Come on out, I have to leave for work but I will be back this afternoon. Feel free to do what you want during the day." He says and it almost sounds sincere.
"Fun. Hows work going anyway?" What I really mean by that is 'does the FBI know about your special hobbies ?'
"Great. I'm doing some work off to the side but it pays well." He gives me a knowing smile that I can't decipher and walks into the kitchen. I can hear him putting the dishes in the sink. He walks out again and looks at me expectantly.
"Come on, give your old man a hug!" I force myself to take two steps forward and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back, tightly and the smell of him chokes me like a grip. He presses my chest into him and the way my breasts press against him feels-- wrong. He finally lets me go and pulls back.
"I'll see you later!" He smiles before turning and grabbing his coat. No gun so I'm assuming that he keeps them elsewhere.
"Bye!" I call before he closes the door and I hear a lock clicking shut.
I wait ten seconds and then I scream. As hard as I can. Scream until my throat hurts because once again I am trapped but with a much, much worse monster. My knees hit the floor and I let myself be the real Naitee Joshi. I hit the wooden floor until my knuckles are red with blood and irritation but I stop myself before they actually break. That would be to suspicious.
When I finally drag the pieces of me back together and myself of the floor I walk to the kitchen first. It's clean and the only things in the sink is the remains of my breakfast. I try every, single, drawer but not one opens. They're all locked and I realise just how much planning Ross probably put into this place. After trying every single drawer once again I move on to the next room, and the next. Most of them are locked, almost every single one. In the end I realise there's only one room I haven't tried. The room I just assumed would be a cleaning scrub.
I try the door slowly and to my suprise it opens. Some weird smell is coming from the room and I cover my mouth with my hand.
The door opens slowly to reveal a small dark room and I reach in to flick on the light. It flickers on and I thin my eyes out to take it in. There's a weirdly big wooden chest and a bench littered with photos. As soon as I step in I know that what I'm going to find is going to be bad. Really bad.
The photos are all of me or Hannah. Some with both of us next to eachother but the things that catches my eyes is the framed picture. I know that frame, it's a cheap wooden one decorated with sparkeling animals. I know it because I made it. I pick it up and stare at the childhood picture of me and my parents. Except for the fact that the faces of my parents are gone, my fathers covered with a cut out picture of-- Ross and my mothers is burned away. Like Ross wanted to burn away the memory of my loving parents.
I slowly put the picture back in it's place because otherwise I'm pretty sure I would smash it until there was only dust left.
I turn to the chest and despite my mind screaming at my body to stop moving my arm reaches out to open the chest and I can't help but gag when I see what's inside. It's a skeleton. Fully decomposed with only bones left and it's resting on a comforter. I taste bile in my mouth. I know that comforter. Hannah had that comforter for two years in our dorm. It has small stars in different colors but they're all muted now. I back out of the room, only having enough sense to flick of the light and close the door before running to the little bathroom and collapsing before the toilet.
I throw up. Violently. Until both my breakfast and dinner is gone down the drain.
Ross has kept Hannahs body. For seven years. I heave again but there's nothin left to throw up.
This is so, so much worse than I expected. I flush the toilet again but the smell of vomit is still prominent. I lay back against the cold floor of the bathroom and for the first time in five years I can't stop the tear that slips from my eye. One tear for my dead bestfriend who's body is in a chest. Who died and I didn't even know.
One tear for the girl who I used to know.
Alessio
It took me three hours to find the two most likley places that that asshole would have taken her. Both temporary landing spaces used for fueling up airplanes during the right time. One of them two hours south of New York City and one three hours north. I could not for the life of me figure out which one of them it was. Both of them fit perfectly into the mould.
The empty packet of cigarettes taunt me from the bedside table and I tear at my nails with my teeth. I will have to choose to one of them first and risk being to late to another. I think for only one more second before grabbing all off my relevant things and leaving the hotel as quickly as I can.
The car I hired when I first came here is standing by the sidewalk. A place I had to pay a large sum for mind you. I jump in and slam down on the gas. I would simply shoot any police who dared to try to stop me. I put the directions into the GPS in the car while I drove south. It was only two hours there and hopefully I would get to kill someone when I got there.
I stopped the car as soon as I spotted the house on the edge of the small airport. It was warmer here than in New York and I almost sweated in my coat. I walk toward the house slowly and ready myself with a silenced glock in each hand. They are perfect for incapaciting someone by shooting off their toes or private parts.
I came to the grey door and knocked, being sure to avoid the locking glass. No answer. I knocked again, harder this time. Still no answer. My patience had ended. I slam my shoulder against the door and the wood splinters of the hinges. My gun is raised the second the door slams to the floor. The sounds echoes through the house.
The empty house. I have searched the entire house and there is not a sign of anyone living here for the last year. I can not help the scream of anger that leaves me when I rush back to the car. I made the wrong choice and wasted four hours on a dead end. I almost drive the car off the road when I reverse the car. I can not even feel the difference of little gas and alot of gas. When I start speeding up the meter on the car moves past the 100 mph sign. I am not sure what that is in km/h but it feels fast as the world rushes past me in a blur. I am not wasting another second.
I am determined to get to that other damn house in less than five hours because my stomach is telling me that something very, very bad is about to happen and I have to get there in time to stop it.
When I get back on bigger roads I am faced with traffic and slowed down, drastically. I take-over as much as I can but it is not always possible and not after long the lamp for fuel lights up. I slam my fist into the steering wheel and the annoying horn sounds out.
"Madonna! Porca puttana! " I growl out and I can basically feel my teeth being ground into dust. I am stuck in traffic for two. TWO. Extra hours and as soon as I get out of the qeue I am driving 100 mph again. Dust flies behind me as I rev the engine to go faster and faster on the increasingly bad roads. The clock ticks slowly and it is like sand running through my fingers. My heart is slamming against my chest and by the time I finally start to get within fifteen minutes of the airport my heart is going over 200 bpm. It has taken me more than two days to find her, what could he have done to her in that time? Does she even know that he killed her parents? What if she is not even there?
So many question and the answer is ten minutes away.
I slam my foot all the way down on the gas.