Sealed with a Kiss

by stress

You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head. [MURDER!MYSTERY] Layna Kotliar is a girl with a secret so big that she doesn't even know it herself. But Kisses does. And Kisses doesn't like David. [DAVID LOVE STORY]

7. VII KISSES

Title: Sealed with a Kiss

Author: Stress

Summary: Layna Kotliar is a girl with a secret so big that she doesn't even know it herself. Will she be able to trust David with it or will she continue to rely on the only friend she's ever known, a simple leather-bound journal?

The translations: As you will see as the fiction begins (and continues), Layna is a French immigrant. Therefore, much of what she says is in French. When the dialogue called for it I tried to include a translation but not always. However, I will include translations at the bottom. Hopefully it will add to the experience of the story.

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VII. KISSES

Everytime you come around
Damn those cowboys and kisses…

After the short message left by Kisses on the 20th, the message scrawled in response to Secrets' entry chronicling the news of Stress' murder, Secrets had shoved her journal inside her pillow case and left it there. She was afraid of what else might be written if she continued her daily narrations. Anytime she broke down and reached inside the grubby case to pull out the book, the terse words from that night flashed before her eyes and, as quick as she could, she would pull her hand back.

It wasn't until the 25th, near on five days later, that Secrets finally mustered up enough courage to draw out the journal. Upon opening it to the last page full of text, Secrets found that her brief respite from documentation did nothing to curtail Kisses' messages.

21 August 1899

Mon cher,

Comment allez-vous? Mon ami, ma soeur, mon Layna… I hope everything is going all well without that Stress occupying all of your David's time. Isn't it much better now? I know – you don't have to thank me. It's all for you, mon amour. Until later.

Kisses

When Layna read that first message following Stress' murder, she stared at the page for three-quarters of an hour, trying to understand it. The message of the 21st was similar to the ones that Kisses used to leave in her journal – friendly and supportive; it was quite unlike the messages that she had been finding ever since she left the orphanage and moved into the Bottle Alley Home.

But, when she reread the first few lines, she couldn't help but find irony in Kisses words. Regardless of what she meant by 'you don't have to thank me', the phantom author obviously thought that, after Stress' murder, Secrets would have much more time with David, when, in fact, the truth was quite the opposite.

Ever since Jack returned from the Coroner's, he had refused to leave the bunkroom over at the Newsboys' Lodging House on Duane Street; he was mourning and no one wanted to take that away from him. David, as his closest friend, was the only one who would stay with him. The other boys were too taken aback to have anything to offer the distraught boy.

Because David had not left Jack's side since he returned from identifying Stress, Secrets had gone selling with a few of the girls from the Home: Rae, Gip and Tunes. The three of them, that first day following the news, had spent the morning reliving memories of Stress, somewhat in denial that she was gone. Death was not new to them all – but murder was.

Secrets, who had only known the girl for a few days before she was killed, had nothing to add to the conversation. Instead of adding phony sentiments, Secrets spent the time wondering if there was any sort of connection between Kisses' strange message and Stress' murder.

Whether there was or not, Secrets did not have the heart to write in her journal that night. She was too nervous to write down any of the thoughts that were whirling around her head. While it was normally her habit to sort out her thoughts through her writing, she just couldn't do that this time.

Which only resulted in a change of tone in the next evening's message from Kisses when Secrets read it five days later.

22 August 1899

Mon cher,

Why was there no writing yesterday? Est tout d'accord? I don't see how anything could be wrong. You don't have to worry about ce vagabond anymore. David is only your's. D'accord?

Kisses

Right, Secrets scoffed to herself when she read this passage. That day was almost identical to the one before it: Jack remained in the bunkroom, depressed; David remained by his side, trying to talk to him; Secrets went out selling with some of the girls. She was beginning to miss the times she had sold the morning edition with David; she had already suffered from the loneliness that followed, sitting by herself as the evenings concluded.

She did understand exactly why David was spending all of his time with Jack. She just didn't like it.

Which, of course, meant that Kisses hated it.

The two days that followed went by almost as the first two days had with one minor exception. On that second night, Secrets saw David for a few minutes. He had been on his way to the apartment he shared with his family, tired after another complete day of trying to convince Jack that it wasn't his fault that Stress had died, when he made a brief stop at the Bottle Alley Home. It was the first time he had done so since he began his daily vigils inside the bunkroom where Jack spent his days pacing and being angry. As surprised as Secrets was to see David, she grew a little annoyed when all he wanted to do was talk about Jack and what the boy was going through.

"I know that I haven't been spending any time with you, Secrets, but you have to understand. You see, the day before and the actual day that Stress was murdered, she and Jack got into an argument. You heard the two of them while we were selling so you know how bad it was. Well, Jack is not too happy right now because they never got the chance to patch up their spat – he thinks that this whole thing is his fault." David sighed just then and – for a moment – Secrets felt bad for him.

But, rather than focus on his apparent misery, Secrets just smiled at his company. "That's alright, mon amour. Je comprends." Which was a total lie, of course, because she didn't really understand – but as long as he was there with her, well, then everything was alright.

David seemed comforted at her words; he didn't hear the superficiality of the tone. "Merci."

He stayed outside with Secrets, on the porch of the Bottle Alley Home, until Mrs. Cook poked her head out and announced that it would shortly be curfew time. After David had placed a tentative kiss against her cheek, Secrets felt she was finally over her irrational fear of documenting her days. Why am I so nervous, anyway?

25 August 1899

Layna –

D'accord, Layna… I was being nice – I was being votre ami. I forgave you for befriending others and even tried to help you keep that friendship. And what do I get in return? Je suis ignoré, oublié. Is that how you feel as you sit by yourself in the lodging house while David spends his days with Jack? I don't like that feeling Layna and I'm sure that you don't either. I will take care of you. But you must write to me, Layna. Vous devez m'écrire. How do expect me to help you if you don't tell me. Je dois savoir.

Kisses

It was when she opened her journal that she read the messages that had been written by Kisses in her absence; they grew increasingly more disturbed, culminating in the most threatening passage she had ever seen within. Just then, she knew why she had been so nervous.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. She reached beside her and picked up the fountain pen that had fallen out of the leather book. "J'écris mieux dans ici," she murmured to herself. It was surprising how fearful a person she had never met could make her.

25 August 1899

Mon journal,

Je suis ici.

I know it's no excuse but it truly has been a strange few days around here – it's so hard to be surrounded by so many depressed people. And it's encore plus dur to be surrounded by so many depressed people when David isn't one of them. I am hurt and jealous at all the time he is now spending with Jack. I feel intéressé to admit it, but in a way soulagé. I don't know why I haven't been writing my feelings out. You truly are the only friend I can turn to right now.

It all star—

And, once she got the momentum going and knew exactly what she wanted to write down, it happened again: Secrets had her first black out spell in the past three days.

Knock, knock. Officer Murphy quietly led the seven-year-old Layna to the door of the large 5th Street Orphanage and waited after knocking on the large door.

A stout woman with her long black hair knotted at the nape of her neck answered the door. Her dark eyes lit up with recognition as she spied the man. Her lips quirked into a slight smile and she bowed her head. She didn't seem bothered that he was calling so late. "May I help you, Officer Murphy?"

Officer Murphy removed his police hat and stepped aside to reveal Layna. "Sorry about disturbing you so late, Madame Pearson, but this is important," he said.

Madame Pearson took one look at Layna and motioned for the two of them to step inside. "Come in, come in," she said gracefully and watched as the pair entered the still of the lobby. Once she was sure that the two of them were standing inside of the orphanage, she closed the door behind them all and began to walk down the hallway. "Now before we have a talk about the wee one here, let me show her to a bunk. It seems like she might have had a rough day and a little girl like her should get some sleep." Madame Pearson continued to talk until she reached a particular door on her left. "Here, I think this room will do fine for now," she added. She opened the door and gestured for Layna to enter.

Layna thanked Madame Pearson with a quiet "Merci" and waited for her to lead Officer Murphy to her office to talk before approaching the only other occupant awake at so late of an hour. It was a young boy, a year or so older than she was, with sloppy dark hair and brown eyes that were hidden by glasses. He had been sitting atop the bunk closest to the door, one away from Layna's designated bed. He waited for Layna to climb on top of the vacant bunk before he whispered in a lisping voice, "Hi, there. My name is Nicolas. What's yours?"

All at once the day's events caught up with Layna and she felt a sudden rush of pain flood into her head. It took a second to pass and when it did, the little girl stared her dull, lifeless blue eyes straight ahead, almost ignoring the interested boy. "Mon nom est Kisses."

When the spell faded, Secret found herself on her bunk. It was dark and the other girls were already asleep for the night. "What happened?" she mumbled and sat up, setting her back against her headboard. Secrets put her head in her hands, waiting for the familiar pain to leave her head. The last thing she had remembered was getting ready for bed and writing in her journal. "My journal," she said urgently, yet quietly; she didn't want to disturb any of the other girls. Her journal was no longer resting on her bunk.

Secrets crawled out of the bunk and searched frantically until she found where the journal had fallen – it was nestled between the bunk where she slept and the bunk where Iris slept.

Picking it up and clutching it to her chest momentarily, Secrets flipped the journal open to the page she had been writing on. There was her entry, only half finished but, already, there was a response.

Layna,

Bon, you listened to me and wrote back. Comme j'ai cru que vous. I know you so well, Layna, I really do. I must admit that I didn't like the idea of you pouring your heart and soul into someone that was not me when you first mentioned that you were making friends, but I see now that if it makes you happy, you must be happy. And I will be the one to make sure of it. Vous verrez.

Quand vous êtes heureux, je suis heureux.

Kisses

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Translations:

Comment allez-vous? – How are you?
Mon ami, ma soeur, mon Layna… – My friend, my sister, my Layna…
Est tout d'accord? - Is everything alright?
Ce vagabond – That tramp
Je comprends – I understand
D'accord, Layna – Alright, Layna
Votre ami – Your friend
Je suis ignoré, oublié - I'm ignored, forgotten
Vous devez m'écrire – You must write to me
Je dois savoir – I need to know
J'écris mieux dans ici – I better write in here
Je suis ici – I'm here
Encore plus dur – Even harder
Intéressé – Selfish
Soulagé – Relieved
Mon nom est – My name is
Bon - Good
Comme j'ai cru que vous – Just like I thought you would
Vous verrez – You will see
Quand vous êtes heureux, je suis heureux – When you are happy, I am happy