CHAPTER NINE
ROXANNE'S POV
Walking did give me a lovely feel of freedom that other activities never did.
I walked through the busy streets, sending out smiles as greetings. Everyone smiled back, giving me a thrilling sense of belonging.
The sun's burn on my skin gave me a therapeutic feeling rather than the expected burning sensation. Once again I was free, free to give a genuine smile, free from suspicious co-workers.
The thought of freedom still remained, as I made my way into Donald's boutique. It was a boutique specially opened for people like me, people who were the pure definition of penury itself, people who didn't mind the feel of other people's dresses on their skin.
On entering the shop, different mannequins wore enticing dresses, dresses that were once worn by the elites of the elite.
My eyes came to a halt on an elegant maroon gown. It was just the right length and size for me, having a tiny strap for the waistline.
Seeing my great interest for the dress, a young lady walked up to me. She looked every bit in her mid twenties
"How can I help you?" She asked, taking in my stained blouse warily.
I gave her a smile "I'd love to buy the dress" I said, fixing a loving gaze on the dress.
"Which dress?" She asked, stunning me into confusion. How could she ask that? Didn't my standing at the entrance with this lifeless mannequin give a hint to which dress I wanted?
"This!" I replied giving a gentle touch to the dress that laid perfectly fit on the mannequins stiff body.
"Oh! This... Is expensive" She said, smiling for the first time
"Yes I know it would. How much is it?" I asked enthusiastically
She gave out the gentle smile again before replying
"I don't think you can afford this. But I can take you to other sections that'll fit your calibre of person," she said,
still maintaining the stiff smile.
I didn't wait to be shown to the next section, I stormed out. I was more pained than angry.
Pained that I looked so poor to the extent that someone could assume that I had no funds to purchase a proper used dress, a used dress for that matter. A dress that had been worn by delicate rich beauties not fewer than twice. She even had the guts to give out a pitiful smile.
In my angry haste, I had forgotten my hand bag which I had dropped on the floor quite close to the mannequin. I had dropped the bag, to have a proper feel of the dress.
As I turned to go get my back from the boutique, I glimpsed a familiar face in the crowd. It was just for a split second so I didn't wish to dwell on that illusion.
I walked into the shop with a stony and straight face and picked my bag before walking out as I didn't wish to spare any more second there.
Unfortunately I had lost the feel of freedom and the intense sun, was now allowed to burn my skin maliciously. I could feel my skin reddening as I trotted down to the alley.
I pressed forward, not wanting to keep my warm bed waiting. I walked a distance from the entrance, before realizing to my horror that there was a great chance of me forgetting my house key.
I halted and dipped my hand into my cheap leather hand bag, praying silently to find the key.
Just then a liquid flew from behind me and landed on the bag as I bent it to check for the key. Surprised, I turned too late to find the culprit racing away. Who was that and what liquid did he/she throw at me? I pondered silently, but the burning smell was too intense for me not to notice the acidic substance on my bag. In response I screamed and let go of the hand bag realizing the culprit's dangerous intention.
EDWARD'S POV
I drove carefully from the hospital, after spending some crying time with my mom. I wished she could be stronger, healthier and livelier. But unfortunately, these were mere wishes
Her ghost-like coffee brown eyes were so lost in pain, her skin sadly pale, and her long hair nearly gone. She had lost so much weight that I almost passed her off as dead. The tears had begun to flow then, and refused to stop till I left four hours later.
My mom had tried to maintain interestingc onversations with me but my eyes refused to cooperate.
I watched sadly as her smile faded with each ounce of pain. I could feel her deep struggle to live, her labored breathing and her frequent sighs. She bore the same sad expression that I had found on Roxanne, a look that held too many suppressed pain.
Roxanne's voice had always sent shivers to my spine just as my mom's voice had always. But on hearing my mom speak in the hospital, my heart broke into thousand tiny pieces. Her voice was so hoarse as if she was going to break down in tears after every sentence. Her lips trembled just as violently as Roxanne's had when my father had questioned her.
Roxanne's lips had trembled too fast that I thought she was having an epileptic seizure. Her breast heaved twice a second. They were indeed begging to be calmed with a touch.
Her brown hair was desperately laid down peacefully, just as I would have loved to lay down peacefully with her by my side.
When she lifted her eyes to give an answer to a question, her rainy blue eyes caused a giant stir in my trousers.
Her trembling voice sizzled electrically into my ear, ringing bells of love and sadness. I longed to engage her In a milky embrace, whispering beautiful words of upliftment into her ear drum.
When she took on a sob, I couldn't help the tears from dropping from my eyes too. I so much wanted to wipe the tears away from her eyes, but I held back. I held back because I was afraid to love and get hurt. I held back because It just didn't feel right to love an employee; a cleaner.
I snapped out. When had my thought drifted?
I swerved my car to the direction of the company, beating myself for thinking with my private part.
I still needed to sort some things out before closing for the day.
I watched as the evening sun gave the company a golden look as I parked my car just outside the building. But there was someone standing in an odd manner.
This someone had stopped the golden rays from filling the whole building. What was going on? Was he a thief or what? Considering the black polo, black trousers, black cap and black nose mask the person was adorned with, he/she could be passed for a thief.
"Hey!! You there! Who are you?" I asked slamming the door of my car to make the supposed thief aware of my presence.
The thief broke out in a run, but didn't make it far as my athletic legs carried me ten times faster.
After much struggling, I was able to remove the mask from the face. And to my astonishment, Tarella's face was made visible behind the mask.
What was she doing here? And why was she dressed in such suspicious manner?