What She Really Wants
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Oh, the drama! To be honest with myself, I don't really like this story. Even though I'm the author, I find it boring. Is that bad??
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"May, darling, why don't you come over and stay with us? Since Max is still at the hospital, we could really use the help." Mother fretted a lot, and because Max wasn't around to help, she had been on an edge.
"Sure, Mom," I said absentmindedly. It would probably be a big job, but I'd probably be so spaced out I wouldn't notice what I was doing until I was done.
"Oh, thank you. You know how much this means to me," she sighed.
"I'll be over in a few," I said, not really paying attention. After hanging up the phone, I stood there like an idiot for a minute until where I was going really sunk in. Suddenly, I bolted out the door, grabbing the keys and forgot my jacket in the process of closing the door.
I forgot to lock it.
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Dawn groaned as she looked into the mirror.
"My hair is a mess!" She was still half dressed, trying unsuccessfully to push down a rather large portion of her hair that was sticking up. Her phone rang nine times until Dawn gave in to the ringing and flipped open the phone.
"Hello?" her voice was sickly sweet, her teeth pressed together tightly.
"Dawn? Are you okay? It's important, and-"
"Oh, Paul! Sorry!" Her voice instantly relaxed. "What's up?"
"It's about May… and Drew, in a way." He sounded tired, as if something terrible had just happened.
"Uh… Ooh, lemme guess, they finally got together?" She squealed half-heartedly, trying to make him feel better. However, dread pooled in her gut, and she knew something bad was about to happen. Paul took a deep breath.
"Listen…"
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"May, dear, come in…" Mom ushered me into the small, quaint home with a wide smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I replied, walking in slowly. Dejectedly. Her worried eyes watched mine, but I didn't meet them. Everything moved so fast, I couldn't tell what was what anymore. Friend from foe, love from hate…
Life from death.
Max was still at the hospital, and Dad was probably at work, so my mom probably needed the company as much as I did. I scrubbed the dishes slowly as my mom folded the clothes. We were both usually talkative, but a numbing silence filled the air today, and nothing but a few mutters were the sounds we made. It must be the shock, I figured. Outside, a few birds continued to chirp happily, a light contrast to my mood. It became so annoying I almost ran outside and strangled the poor things. Finally, my mother spoke.
"I'm so sorry."
Her tone shocked me; it was so different from her usual carefree, happy self. Her voice cracked a little bit, and it took a few seconds for me to realize she was crying. I abandoned the cloth I was using to clean the table and went to sit down next to my mother. Silently, I put my arms around her and hugged her close.
"I… M-may, I don't know what to do anymore…" she sobbed. And I realized that it wasn't help with the chores that my mom wanted, it was reassurance; the accident had deeply shaken her.
We sat there for a while.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Jumping up, I ran to answer the door. My mother peered curiously over the couch. I jerked the door open, but no one was there. On the floor of the porch, a large, beige folder lay, stuffed with papers. Confidential was printed on the front. It seemed like one of those mystery movies where the main character receives a secret letter from some unknown person telling them that their life is in danger or something like that.
"Not funny," I scowled to myself. Closing the door behind myself, I went back to sitting with my mother and dropped the folder on the coffee table.
"What's that…?" she asked softly.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Shall we find out?"
Carefully, I took out the first paper. Small, black text covered the entire paper. After leafing through a few of them, I realized that it was a will.
"Read it out loud," Mom urged.
" I, Thomas Maple, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath my dear daughter, Caroline Maple, the company I owned with my wife, Alice Maple, along with the twenty million dollars that we have saved for future use. Our dear friend, Jackson Rosalind, founded the aforementioned company, Rosalind co." I trailed off. Did my grandfather really leave our family twenty million, as well as that company? I thought Drew's family owned it; After all, they are direct descendants of this Jackson Rosalind person…
My mother was in shock. After a short silence, she urged me to continue reading.
" Our dear friend, Jackson, left the company to us, declaring that his family were just a bunch of idiots that would do everything in their power to inherit his money for their own selfish reasons. At the time, we were his closest friends." I stopped reading, my heart thudding. So if that was true, why didn't the company fall under our name instead of going ahead to Drew and his monster parents? Mom took the paper from me and scanned the rest of the paper. A few other small things, compared to the twenty million, were listed for us. I didn't pay attention. Who had left these on the porch? More importantly, who would have access to these files? If the Rosalind family really did take over the company against the will's… well, will, then they probably would have had these papers in their possession at one point or another. Then my mother said something that made me stop short.
"Only if the entire Maple family were to disappear somehow will the Rosalind Company fall back into the Rosalind's hands once more…"
Realization dawned.
Damn move cliché.
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Misty sighed and tried to warm her hands with the tea she was holding. May's usual happiness had been seriously diminished recently. She missed the craziness of it all, now that it was gone. Now that the brunette had lost yet another job, there were almost none left in the area that she hadn't been fired from. The wind blew in from the windows a little, shifting the flowers that she had arranged in a small glass vase. It was a pretty nice day, she figured, quiet and peaceful. But something was wrong, and she knew it…
As if on cue, the phone rang.
"Hello?" Misty mumbled lazily, fingering a small loose thread from the couch.
"Misty! It's terrible, th-"
"Calm down, Dawn. What's wrong?" Misty frowned, alarmed now. On the other line, the navy haired girl took a deep breath and blurted out the last words in the world she needed right now.
"May's in trouble!"
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Drew paused in front of the door, wondering if what he was about to do was acceptable in his own standards- surely he had more pride than that!
His hand rose slowly, unsure.
In his mind, images of May's tear-stained face filled his head. Then, overwhelming guilt: the tears were his fault.
He knocked on the door, and to his surprise, it creaked open by itself.
"She forgot to lock the door," he realized, shaking his head.
The inside of the apartment was small and messy. Though he had been inside before, he hadn't had a chance to really take in his surroundings. They weren't exactly on good terms at the time, he thought dryly.
Small stacks of washed dishes were piled in the sink, already dried. A small pile of paper was stacked neatly on the counter, however. The one on top was addressed from Brendan to May. Curiosity sparked, and Drew found himself opening the letter against his will. He was surprised that the entire letter was scribbled out in red pen. Brendan had scrawled out a small message on the bottom, in blue ink.
I really am sorry May. I still love you, by the way.
Though May had apparently scribbled over that message with her marker obsessively, it was still clear. Drew stuffed the letter back into the envelope, exasperated. It was almost annoying to watch Brendan's obsession with May, and it was distracting as well. Just a few days ago, Brendan had rushed into the office with flowers, and when he realized May wasn't there, had gone to deliver them to her with a cheerful, 'I'll be right back!'
Absently, Drew wondered what had happened to the roses. Looking around a little more, he saw a bouquet of roses in the trash. He smirked at them, feeling almost satisfied at Brendan's rejection. Shaking away those thoughts, Drew moved to leave, when-
The door began to open.
Crap, he mentally cursed, ducking behind the couch where May hopefully wouldn't see him. But to his surprise, it wasn't May who entered the room, but Misty and Dawn.
"Where could May have gone?" Dawn wondered aloud. There was a small rustle, and then Misty said softly,
"Don't you
remember? She told us that she would be with her mother today, the
poor thing."
"Forgot to lock the door, too." Dawn chirped.
Once they move to a different room, I'll dash for the door and run away, Drew frowned. That shouldn't be too hard. Footsteps suddenly came closer. The grass-haired boy's eyes widened. They were onto him, weren't they? They were going to…
Dawn plopped down onto the couch Drew was hiding behind.
"So when do you think May will come back?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Are you sure she's safe?" Misty whispered quietly. Drew's heart pounded so loud, he was sure they could hear it. After a suspenseful moment, Dawn sighed.
"I just hope the Rosalinds haven't hurt her. I still don't know why they would do such a thing, though." She said softly. Anger replaced Drew's fear. Against his screaming common sense, he sprang from the couch.
"I would never do anything to hurt her!" He growled.
Then he realized what he had just done.
"Oh my god! What are you doing here?" Dawn squealed.
"Uh…" Drew stuttered. "I…"
"Get out!" Misty thundered.
"I didn't do anything!"
"Breaking in oughtta count for SOMETHING!"
"You keep saying I
would hurt her! Do you really think I would?"
"Yes,
considering your family is just a bunch of murderers!"
Drew paused.
"What?"
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I stared blankly ahead through the windshield, slowly taking out the keys to my car and slamming the door shut.
Twenty million was a lot.
But Drew… He was in on this? How could he?
Walking up the steps slowly, I turned and nearly crashed into someone.
"Drew?" I spluttered incredulously. "What are you doing here?"
"May… I… You're… okay?" His face was oddly worried.
"What?" I whispered.
"You're… May, you're in danger." Drew choked out. I'd never seen his smug personality so shaken, and it reminded me of how different my mother had been. His voice was shaking, and so honestly deep it couldn't possibly be an act.
But did that mean he didn't know?
That his family was trying to murder me?
Deciding to play it safe, I took a deep breath and looked at him in the eye.
"What are you talking about?"
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Uh. Yeah. Haven't updated for so long… and I'm tired…
All I want is one or two reviews for this chapter to get me going again. Please?
