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After my first overdose at fifteen, doctors told me I was lucky to be alive. With the amount of Tylenol in my system I should have died. I feel like ever since then I’ve had one foot in the grave. If I’m being truly honest, death has had its stink on me since I was a child.
Gabriel hits the computer panel on his wall and the secret door closes. He steps out of the closet and shuts those doors too. He carries the black duffle over to the kitchen putting it on the counter. He then turns to the microwave.
“What happened to you when you were a kid?” He asks, without looking over to me.
“You’re asking a lot of questions about someone you’re going to kill.”
Those seafoam green eyes turn to me briefly before going back to his task. After pressing a combination of five numbers on the keypad, the entire front of the microwave pops open. There’s another hidden compartment. It’s not a microwave at all but instead what looks to be a cool looking safe. Clearly, this shitty apartment is a lot more than it seems.
Gabriel pulls out a stack of money that has my eyes bugging nearly out my head. He places the stack into this black duffle. He then pulls out a computer that he places on the counter as well.
“Answer my question,” he demands.
I roll my eyes. “No.”
He gives me another one of his brief warning looks.
“Since you’re in a talkative and sharing mood,” I say, sitting up placing my elbows on my knees. “Who do you hear in your head when you’re having an episode.”
His entire body goes still. The fingers that were once flying across the keys on his laptop stop moving as well. For the longest time, he doesn’t speak nor move. It lasts so long, I start to feel bad about even asking the question.
“Never mind. You don’t have to answer—”
“My mother,” he says at the same time I speak.
Silence once again surrounds us. I wasn’t expecting that answer, but I’m not shocked.
I shrug and lean back on the couch. “Yeah, well mothers can be bitches sometimes.”
If I wasn’t sitting here watching his shoulders jump, I never would’ve believed that he could actually laugh.
Standing to my feet, I look for a door to the bathroom. I spot it in the kitchen. Before I can take one step in that direction, Gabriel turns to look at me.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” I answer as I continue to my destination. “You can’t hold a girl hostage without giving her a piss break.”
“There are no windows in the bathroom.”
I stop in my tracks and turn to him.
“Well, that’s a fire hazard.” When he doesn’t react to my joke I sigh, and say. “Relax, Gabriel. I’m not trying to run. You and I both know I wouldn’t get far.” I continue my trek to the restroom closing the door behind me.
I press my back to the hard surface and take a few deep breaths. As cool and casual as I’m keeping it, this shit isn’t easy.
There is a bit of level headedness that is required when you are facing your mortality. Knowing that tonight could be my last night on this earth, I start to reflect back over my life at all the things I would have done differently.
For instance, I wouldn’t have asked my mother to let me stay with my father that night when I was eight. Some of the blame is on her. She knew he was in the midst of a psychotic break. I’m a hundred percent sure she wouldn’t have left Raina in his care if she’d asked. Another thing I would have changed, was this outfit choice for the night.
Pushing away from the door, I quickly do my business and then wash my hands. However, nausea coils my stomach causing me to dive back for the toilet. I release everything I’ve eaten in the last few hours which honestly isn’t much. Clutching the toilet as if it’s a lover, I lie my head against the seat. I’ve officially hit the middle stage of my withdrawals.
Suddenly, a cold rag is pressed to my head.
“You have vomit in your costume wig,” his deep voice rattles my chest.
I chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh, my throat burns.”
He pulls the wig off showcasing my two cornrows underneath. If I was even remotely trying to seduce this man, all that went out the window. I look like an extra in the Color Purple.
