Page 6 of Torment

A storm was coming.

Perfect timing, because I needed to head home. The light buzz from my wine had well and truly worn off, and now I felt tired and droopy.

As I walked back to my car, I was struck with the sudden sense that someone was watching me. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my heart began to pound as I stopped in my tracks and whipped my head around to make sure no one was following me.

Beautiful as New Orleans was, it had its dark side. While the parish fathers had made great efforts to clean up the city’s image, there was still a fair amount of crime. There were some areas I didn’t even step foot in, especially at night, lest I suffer that ‘cold hand of death’ sensation in my chest every time I passed another person on the sidewalk and wondered if they were about to stab me for the few dollars I had.

When I’d ascertained that no one was standing nearby waiting to mug me, I hurried back to my car and headed toward home, gulping down deep, relieved breaths. I desperately wanted more wine to quell the rising panic. I knew Lauren would yell at me for having another drink, but she wasn’t here right now. She wasn’t sitting in my car practically having a heart attack over nothing like I was.

By the time I arrived back on St. Andrew Street, I actually felt a little better. My pulse had slowed, and my lungs were no longer on fire from hyperventilation. On top of that, I no longer felt the need to drink anymore. Lauren would be proud. I guess some of the things she’d said about trying not to spiral were finally sinking in.

My tentative new outlook changed the second I reached the third story. The note I’d stuck to old Mr. Bennett’s door earlier this morning was now stuck to mine, facing the original way with the ‘Found you, little whore’ message glaring right at me. This time, the words were underlined in red pen.

Shaken, I tore the note off the door and dashed inside before scrunching it up and launching it into the trash can. What the hell was this guy’s problem? He already knew where I lived—obviously, given that he was my neighbor—so what was the point in leaving me abusive notes saying stuff like ‘found you, whore’? Was it just to freak me out?

If that’s what he was trying to do, it was damn well working. Perhaps I needed that drink after all.

Before I did anything else, I poured some flakes into Buddy’s aquarium, smiling faintly as I admired his shimmering fins. He’d been the one constant in my life over the last eight years. I took him with me after my rescue from New Eden, and I’d kept him ever since.

“Hey, Bud,” I murmured, touching the glass. “What are you up to?”

He swam behind a large shell to reach some of the flakes, leaving tiny bubbles in his wake.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of cheap chardonnay from the fridge. Then I stepped over to the window, gulping down a big mouthful as I opened the curtains and looked out over the pretty garden below me. A while ago, the building owners hired a landscaper to come in once a week, and it showed.

I liked standing here staring down at the flowers. They were always there, turning their faces toward the sun, bright and colorful. The noble old oaks along the edge of the property were always there too, along with the neatly-trimmed grass beyond the garden.

The others in the building didn’t admire the front yard very often, but they weren’t like me. I spent a lot of time admiring things, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem. It comforted me.

Sometimes I stood here for hours, gazing out at the world with amazement, still unable to believe it was all really here, stretching out in front of me. Trees, roads, buildings, cars, lights, people. So many people.

For so long, I was held captive without even knowing. Eleven whole years underground, always told that it was for my own safety. That the rest of the world was gone and I was one of the fortunate ones.

I gritted my teeth at the harrowing thought, remembering a vow I’d made not long after my rescue from that place.

I would never, ever be a captive again.

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