Sorry it took so long to post, but thanks so much for all the reviews, I'm glad you guys like it, it means a lot to me! Everything about Altessa will be revealed in time, I'm glad I'm keeping you guessing! Thanks again!
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Chapter Four
Calm
Kimberly stabbed at her cooling Chinese take-out with wooden chopsticks that she had no idea how to use. Unable to spear anything, she switched to a fork but simply stared down at her egg roll once the tongs had speared it, no longer feeling hungry. The apartment was silent and she was alone, for Thomas had been called out by his police duties, promising that he would return within the hour. Every time he left, Kimberly knew part of her wondered if he would ever return, fearing that Death wasn't finished just biding Its time; even everyday calls, like settling a neighborhood dispute -such were most of the tasks that Thomas was often assigned to now, after his captain had charged him with aiding and abetting his girlfriend in escaping the police and a speeding ticket (which she had later gotten, along with Thomas' drop in position)- could turn deadly and all Death needed was one little thing to finish Its task.
For once, the silence in the apartment was deafening, where it was usually a welcome thing; she figured it was simply because the void was filled with thoughts of Death, which always made her skittish and wary. Kimberly knew she would never be able to look at the world the same way, knowing all the traps and trips that lay around, just waiting to snare a human life.
Since there was nothing else for her to do, Kimberly stood up and carried the half-empty white containers to the trash can, leaving the ones she had ordered for Thomas out on the table, along with two useless pairs of chopsticks. When she returned to the table, she noticed that the chopsticks had seemed to change position, with her pair pointing downward, the other crossing the middle, almost making an "A" shape.
Pursing her lips, Kimberly snatched up the wooden implements and threw them into the sink, wishing for the first time that she wasn't haunted by the signs that Death seemed to mock her with. Whether the chopsticks were truly a Sign or not didn't matter, for they would forever be on her mind until she understood what Death, or whatever it was, was trying to tell her.
Everything inside of her was telling her that it wasn't over, that you couldn't cheat Death forever, that It was coming back for them. But her logic, the part of her brain that wasn't driven mad by Death, told her that they had beaten Death once and for all. But Kimberly knew that Death was a sadistic son-of-a-bitch that surely didn't play by the rules, real or supernatural.
Kimberly sighed, thinking about the impossible fight with Death and thinking about Thomas somewhere away from the semi-safe apartment didn't make her feel any better. Praying to something she didn't always believe in, she left the kitchen and headed into the living room.
* * *
The house was filled with sounds of life, the noise and activity that Altessa often didn't appreciate; she enjoyed the stillness and silence, even though that was normally where the fear lurked.
Downstairs, her mother was searching through the junk drawers in the kitchen, picking through years of collected crap to find the menu to her favorite Mexican take-out restaurant. Despite the large amount of groceries that she purchased every week, she hardly ever cooked and was a large fan of take-out; her husband would often tease her, saying that every take-out place within ten miles of their house knew them by name.
At the moment, Doug Adams was telling his wife about his day at work while attempting to help her find the menu, though Amanda was barely listening. He paused when his teenage daughter and her friend entered the kitchen, Morgan rattling on about the upcoming high school Spring Dance. Altessa was trying to her hardest to pay attention and even harder to truly care but something was bothering her, clinging the edges of her brain, which made both things hard to do.
Amanda looked up as well, turning to face her raven-haired daughter, fed up with looking for the menu. "Altessa have you seen the-" She began but was quickly cut off by her daughter.
"It's in the drawer by the refrigerator, sitting at the kitchen table, Morgan taking a seat beside her.
At first, Amanda appeared confused, gazing around the semi-circle that the drawers and sink created along the left side of the kitchen, looking at the last drawer, which brushed against the white refrigerator. It was the one drawer that she hardly ever used to store anything in and couldn't remember the last time she had opened it, let alone put anything inside. However, her daughter's conviction about a question that she hadn't even hard all the way caused Amanda to go over to the drawer and slide it open.
Altessa watched out of the corner of her eye as her mother pulled the drawer open and pulled out the worn menu she had been searching for. Amanda turned to face her, surprised, holding the menu before. "How did you know that was there?" She asked, placing the menu on the counter beside her.
Altessa chose not to answer, simply shrugging her shoulders, knowing that there wasn't an answer she could give. For the past year, she had been able to find anything that anyone was looking for, without even trying, the location just popped into her head. However, she hadn't been able to find anything that belonged to her and still had no idea why she had suddenly developed such a talent, one that she had yet to tell anyone about. And all of these thoughts she still kept to herself as she asked, "Mother, can I go out tonight with Morgan and Shane?"
Earlier, Morgan had persuaded Altessa to go out tonight with her best friend and boyfriend of two years, but her heart truthfully wasn't in it, but she did her best to mask that fact, as she did with everything else.
Amanda paused in her dialing, looking up from the menu. "No, I don't think so." She mumbled off-handedly, looking at her daughter and noting the dark circles underneath her eyes. She figured that her daughter's solemn attitude had to do with lack of sleep and was about to say so, but decided to save it for later. "What do you want for dinner?"
Altessa frowned, glaring at her mother. "I thought we were having lasagna." She remarked, almost inaudible. She didn't care what they were having for dinner and wanted to do nothing more then lock herself in her room.
If Amanda heard her daughter at all, she didn't show it and didn't answer, continuing to dial the Mexican take-out number, reading over the menu once again. "Maybe you can go out tomorrow, after the open-house." Once again, her words were off-hand, as though added in an afterthought.
Altessa mutely nodded, thinking that the open-house was another thing she wasn't looking forward to; for nearly a year, her parents had been trying to sell their house and had their sights set on an old Victorian house that had recently gone up for sale. Amanda had been planning to attend the open-house for two weeks and wasn't going to let her two teenage children forget that it was the following day.
Morgan stood up and motioned for Altessa to follow suit, bidding her friend's parents goodbye as she headed out of the kitchen. They were silent until Altessa shut the door behind them, sitting down on the concrete stoop. The blonde turned to face her raven-haired friend, lips pursed. "So, you're really selling the house?" She questioned, gazing at the two-story behind her.
Altessa shrugged, nodding slightly. "I guess so, I'm not too broken up about it." She told her friend, speaking only the truth. There were horrible memories that came attached to the house, memories that she'd rather soon forget despite the fact that she never could. Some things were impossible to forget and simply painful to remember. Altessa figured, however, that moving out of the house might be the first step in moving past the pain.
"Right." Morgan nodded, understanding as she stood up again, heading for her black, run-down car parked in the driveway. The friends said their goodbyes and promised to meet up tomorrow; Altessa watched as her friend drove down the empty street.
And Altessa Adams was alone once more.
* * *
Kimberly paced around the cluttered living room, trying to release some of the tension that she felt. Nothing was helping and so she decided that perhaps something proactive would be just the thing she was looking for. Her eyes resting on the laptop computer that she had taken with her when she had moved out of the house, though it had been pretty much unused.
Staring at the computer brought up painful memories of the past and got her thinking about how she and Shana had stayed on the Internet for hours, logging into chatrooms and pretending to be however they wanted to be.
Those thoughts fueled her uneasy feelings and her desire to make sure that no one else died without living a full life; Kimberly didn't know what she could do but that wasn't going to stop her from seeing if there was at least something. She sat down in front of the computer, turned it on and waited for the Internet to connect. "All right, where to start?" She mumbled to herself, fingers poised over the keys.
The only place to start was the beginning and Kimberly hoped that there was something buried in the past, the missing piece that she had been searching for, the piece that she knew was there, that she needed to truly figure everything out. She could listen to Thomas talk about how they had finally beat death but she couldn't help but think that something was missing, that it had all been too easy.
Kimberly typed 'Highway 23' into the search bar and waited for a list of websites to pop up on the screen. The list was extensive, pulling up anything that had the words included; one article was about the explosion that had killed Clear, Eugene and six other people.
She remembered that moment very well, the happiness that she felt, thinking that they had beat Death because Isabella's child had been born. And then the confusion she had when she had seen that Isabella was never supposed to die in the pileup. And the pain that had coursed through her when she had seen Clear's charred and broken body, the guilt...
Pushing these thoughts from her mind, Kimberly continued to scroll down, getting no where; she didn't know what she had expected to find by going online. Everything these pages had to say she already knew.
Every link blurred together, some tying in with the accident and the survivors ("Lotto Winner dies in Freak Apartment Accident") and some that she had no clue how they fit in with the Design ("Teen Nearly Killed in Attempted Robbery.")
"This is useless." Kimberly groaned, signing off the Internet, knowing that whatever answers she needed wouldn't be found in cyberspace.
She leaned against the back of the car, sighing deeply, knowing that she was no better off now then she had been earlier. She was still clueless, filled with questions, sitting in the calm eye of a deadly storm.
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Chapter Four
Calm
Kimberly stabbed at her cooling Chinese take-out with wooden chopsticks that she had no idea how to use. Unable to spear anything, she switched to a fork but simply stared down at her egg roll once the tongs had speared it, no longer feeling hungry. The apartment was silent and she was alone, for Thomas had been called out by his police duties, promising that he would return within the hour. Every time he left, Kimberly knew part of her wondered if he would ever return, fearing that Death wasn't finished just biding Its time; even everyday calls, like settling a neighborhood dispute -such were most of the tasks that Thomas was often assigned to now, after his captain had charged him with aiding and abetting his girlfriend in escaping the police and a speeding ticket (which she had later gotten, along with Thomas' drop in position)- could turn deadly and all Death needed was one little thing to finish Its task.
For once, the silence in the apartment was deafening, where it was usually a welcome thing; she figured it was simply because the void was filled with thoughts of Death, which always made her skittish and wary. Kimberly knew she would never be able to look at the world the same way, knowing all the traps and trips that lay around, just waiting to snare a human life.
Since there was nothing else for her to do, Kimberly stood up and carried the half-empty white containers to the trash can, leaving the ones she had ordered for Thomas out on the table, along with two useless pairs of chopsticks. When she returned to the table, she noticed that the chopsticks had seemed to change position, with her pair pointing downward, the other crossing the middle, almost making an "A" shape.
Pursing her lips, Kimberly snatched up the wooden implements and threw them into the sink, wishing for the first time that she wasn't haunted by the signs that Death seemed to mock her with. Whether the chopsticks were truly a Sign or not didn't matter, for they would forever be on her mind until she understood what Death, or whatever it was, was trying to tell her.
Everything inside of her was telling her that it wasn't over, that you couldn't cheat Death forever, that It was coming back for them. But her logic, the part of her brain that wasn't driven mad by Death, told her that they had beaten Death once and for all. But Kimberly knew that Death was a sadistic son-of-a-bitch that surely didn't play by the rules, real or supernatural.
Kimberly sighed, thinking about the impossible fight with Death and thinking about Thomas somewhere away from the semi-safe apartment didn't make her feel any better. Praying to something she didn't always believe in, she left the kitchen and headed into the living room.
* * *
The house was filled with sounds of life, the noise and activity that Altessa often didn't appreciate; she enjoyed the stillness and silence, even though that was normally where the fear lurked.
Downstairs, her mother was searching through the junk drawers in the kitchen, picking through years of collected crap to find the menu to her favorite Mexican take-out restaurant. Despite the large amount of groceries that she purchased every week, she hardly ever cooked and was a large fan of take-out; her husband would often tease her, saying that every take-out place within ten miles of their house knew them by name.
At the moment, Doug Adams was telling his wife about his day at work while attempting to help her find the menu, though Amanda was barely listening. He paused when his teenage daughter and her friend entered the kitchen, Morgan rattling on about the upcoming high school Spring Dance. Altessa was trying to her hardest to pay attention and even harder to truly care but something was bothering her, clinging the edges of her brain, which made both things hard to do.
Amanda looked up as well, turning to face her raven-haired daughter, fed up with looking for the menu. "Altessa have you seen the-" She began but was quickly cut off by her daughter.
"It's in the drawer by the refrigerator, sitting at the kitchen table, Morgan taking a seat beside her.
At first, Amanda appeared confused, gazing around the semi-circle that the drawers and sink created along the left side of the kitchen, looking at the last drawer, which brushed against the white refrigerator. It was the one drawer that she hardly ever used to store anything in and couldn't remember the last time she had opened it, let alone put anything inside. However, her daughter's conviction about a question that she hadn't even hard all the way caused Amanda to go over to the drawer and slide it open.
Altessa watched out of the corner of her eye as her mother pulled the drawer open and pulled out the worn menu she had been searching for. Amanda turned to face her, surprised, holding the menu before. "How did you know that was there?" She asked, placing the menu on the counter beside her.
Altessa chose not to answer, simply shrugging her shoulders, knowing that there wasn't an answer she could give. For the past year, she had been able to find anything that anyone was looking for, without even trying, the location just popped into her head. However, she hadn't been able to find anything that belonged to her and still had no idea why she had suddenly developed such a talent, one that she had yet to tell anyone about. And all of these thoughts she still kept to herself as she asked, "Mother, can I go out tonight with Morgan and Shane?"
Earlier, Morgan had persuaded Altessa to go out tonight with her best friend and boyfriend of two years, but her heart truthfully wasn't in it, but she did her best to mask that fact, as she did with everything else.
Amanda paused in her dialing, looking up from the menu. "No, I don't think so." She mumbled off-handedly, looking at her daughter and noting the dark circles underneath her eyes. She figured that her daughter's solemn attitude had to do with lack of sleep and was about to say so, but decided to save it for later. "What do you want for dinner?"
Altessa frowned, glaring at her mother. "I thought we were having lasagna." She remarked, almost inaudible. She didn't care what they were having for dinner and wanted to do nothing more then lock herself in her room.
If Amanda heard her daughter at all, she didn't show it and didn't answer, continuing to dial the Mexican take-out number, reading over the menu once again. "Maybe you can go out tomorrow, after the open-house." Once again, her words were off-hand, as though added in an afterthought.
Altessa mutely nodded, thinking that the open-house was another thing she wasn't looking forward to; for nearly a year, her parents had been trying to sell their house and had their sights set on an old Victorian house that had recently gone up for sale. Amanda had been planning to attend the open-house for two weeks and wasn't going to let her two teenage children forget that it was the following day.
Morgan stood up and motioned for Altessa to follow suit, bidding her friend's parents goodbye as she headed out of the kitchen. They were silent until Altessa shut the door behind them, sitting down on the concrete stoop. The blonde turned to face her raven-haired friend, lips pursed. "So, you're really selling the house?" She questioned, gazing at the two-story behind her.
Altessa shrugged, nodding slightly. "I guess so, I'm not too broken up about it." She told her friend, speaking only the truth. There were horrible memories that came attached to the house, memories that she'd rather soon forget despite the fact that she never could. Some things were impossible to forget and simply painful to remember. Altessa figured, however, that moving out of the house might be the first step in moving past the pain.
"Right." Morgan nodded, understanding as she stood up again, heading for her black, run-down car parked in the driveway. The friends said their goodbyes and promised to meet up tomorrow; Altessa watched as her friend drove down the empty street.
And Altessa Adams was alone once more.
* * *
Kimberly paced around the cluttered living room, trying to release some of the tension that she felt. Nothing was helping and so she decided that perhaps something proactive would be just the thing she was looking for. Her eyes resting on the laptop computer that she had taken with her when she had moved out of the house, though it had been pretty much unused.
Staring at the computer brought up painful memories of the past and got her thinking about how she and Shana had stayed on the Internet for hours, logging into chatrooms and pretending to be however they wanted to be.
Those thoughts fueled her uneasy feelings and her desire to make sure that no one else died without living a full life; Kimberly didn't know what she could do but that wasn't going to stop her from seeing if there was at least something. She sat down in front of the computer, turned it on and waited for the Internet to connect. "All right, where to start?" She mumbled to herself, fingers poised over the keys.
The only place to start was the beginning and Kimberly hoped that there was something buried in the past, the missing piece that she had been searching for, the piece that she knew was there, that she needed to truly figure everything out. She could listen to Thomas talk about how they had finally beat death but she couldn't help but think that something was missing, that it had all been too easy.
Kimberly typed 'Highway 23' into the search bar and waited for a list of websites to pop up on the screen. The list was extensive, pulling up anything that had the words included; one article was about the explosion that had killed Clear, Eugene and six other people.
She remembered that moment very well, the happiness that she felt, thinking that they had beat Death because Isabella's child had been born. And then the confusion she had when she had seen that Isabella was never supposed to die in the pileup. And the pain that had coursed through her when she had seen Clear's charred and broken body, the guilt...
Pushing these thoughts from her mind, Kimberly continued to scroll down, getting no where; she didn't know what she had expected to find by going online. Everything these pages had to say she already knew.
Every link blurred together, some tying in with the accident and the survivors ("Lotto Winner dies in Freak Apartment Accident") and some that she had no clue how they fit in with the Design ("Teen Nearly Killed in Attempted Robbery.")
"This is useless." Kimberly groaned, signing off the Internet, knowing that whatever answers she needed wouldn't be found in cyberspace.
She leaned against the back of the car, sighing deeply, knowing that she was no better off now then she had been earlier. She was still clueless, filled with questions, sitting in the calm eye of a deadly storm.