Page 71 of Hello, Listener
Hey, Sweetheart.
Isend her a quick text and wait impatiently for what seems like a few minutes for her response.Staring at my phone isn’t going to make her respond any quicker.I send her another text.
Me:
Are you up, Beautiful?
A few more minutes pass, and she doesn’t respond. I continue to impatiently wait for a text back.Fuck it.
I climb out of my bed and grab a pair of black, drawstring sweatpants from my closet. My black T-shirt, which sat in the same pile of clothes, goes on next.If she won’t answer her phone, I’ll just go to her apartment. She seems to like my surprise visits.
I grab my phone and keys and slide them into my side pocket, before quickly pulling on my black Converse high tops. The door shuts loudly behind me. At this point, I don’t give a shit about the other people in this place.I need to see my girl.
The drive to her apartment feels like a fucking eternity. For the first time in my life, the fast-paced life in New York City has a feeling of slow motion. I speed my way into her small parking garage and practically jog to her building when I get out of my car. I am lucky enough to be let in by another resident coming in for the night. He holds the door open for me like I live in the building.Lucky me.I nod like the fucking gentleman that I am, and continue my way up the stairs that lead to the hallway.
I walk through the long hall until I reach apartment door6C.Itseems like a perpetual trek as I pass through the long row of identical doors.It’s as if time stays at its slow pace with each step closer to her unit. My body gets hot, making the hair on my arms stand tall.I turn the doorknob, half expecting it to be locked.It squeaks loudly into her kitchen, then shuts softly behind me.She must be asleep; all the lights are off.
Quietly, I walk back down the tiny hallway towards her bedroom.That’s weird.Her bedroom door is wide open.She must be dead to the world if she didn’t hear me come in.
“Sweetheart, are you asleep?” I ask the dark bed in front of me. The shadows from the lights outside bounce off her black sheets.Wait… is this bed fucking empty?I throw her loose sheets from her bed.What the fuck? Where the hell would she be?
I notice a small light shining from her nightstand.Is that her phone? Why the hell wouldn’t she have her phone?I glare down at the locked screen, noticing a few notifications popping up from her social media accounts. Her passcode is ingrained in my memory. I’ve watched her countlessly enter it on the nights we were together. I scan over the notifications and look over the missed messages I sent and all of her other texts.It’s not disturbing her privacy when I’m trying to fucking find her.
The messages we’ve sent each other make me smile.This girl has made me sentimental.I move over to her other texts. A few from Janice that are mostly about work. Several messages have gone unanswered to Jace.What a prick.Several to Alan.Why the hell does she need to talk to Alan so fucking much?My blood boils as I read through their conversation.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Thalia?!” I yell like she’s in the room with me and continue to scroll down to the last message from their conversation.
Alan:
I’m here, Listener
Thalia:
Come on up. I’ll meet you at the door
Why was Alan here, and why the hell did she let him in?
I know one thing, I’m getting my fucking answers.
Her body shivers in the cold chair.Probably from the loss of blood and the lack of heat flowing through the space.
“Are you sure you’re ready for your surprise, baby?” I ask, holding her head in my hands. She nods the best she can and continues to cry. Her tears fall down her cheeks and land in my palms.
“Okay. I want to warn you, though, surprise might not be the right word.” Her head falls forward when I move to stand up. “Maybereunionwould be a better description.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” she stutters her question. My heels click along the hard concrete as I walk back over to the tripod holding my phone.
“You’ll see.” I press the record button.I cannot miss the opportunity to document this.I move back over to her, shaking, broken, and bloody.
“I’m going to give you a countdown,” I say, walking behind her. Thalia’s body trembles as I put my hands close to the thin silk strap wrapped around the top of herhead.
“You ready, baby?” She reluctantly bobs her head. “Okay. Three.” I move my fingers through her tangled curls. “Two.” They stop at the smooth surface of the silk strap. “One.” I quickly pull the mask up over her eyes.
Her breathing picks up as if she has been gagged instead of blind folded. She’s like a mouse in a trap as she looks around the room. She stops when she notices her best friend strapped to the chair next to her. “Jace?” She cries quietly. I observe with my arms across my chest as the nonresponsive Jace sits in the chair with his head bowed.
“I’m sorry, Listener. He’s been at a loss for words lately,” I laugh.She doesn'tquite get the joke.
“What did you do to him?”More fucking tears.“Did you fucking drug him?” She cries louder.How can she not see he’s fucking dead?
