Part 3
~An Okay-Guy~
The nightmare made me snap open my eyes, my heart accelerated, and took away my sleep. It was to the point where breathing hurt. Fear squeezed my heart, but I taught myself a trick to get my breathing, and my mind back to normal.
I would think of happy things. I would imagine my life way differently. I wouldn't have been raped, or be afraid of men with the same scent as the one who marked me.
I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, not without some hot tea. I got out of bed and went to the kitchen.
I didn't want to wake anyone up because I didn't want to explain why I was up. I looked for the kettle in the darkness for about two minutes. I didn't know where anything was. They had remodeled the kitchen.
The light was turned on and I jumped and looked over to the entrance and saw Phil standing there with a bat in his hands ready to hit someone. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only his pajama bottoms. It showed off his chest and I could see more clearly his chest and arm tattoos.
Then, I became conscious of what I was wearing; I was wearing very tiny shorts, a tank top that barely covered my navel, and I had no bra. I folded my arms across my chest.
"Ava," he sighed relieved, "what are you doing?"
"I'm looking for the kettle," I explained. "I don't know where anything is anymore."
Phil walked right past me; he wasn't wearing the cologne, so it was easy to remain calm. He opened the bottom cupboard and took out the kettle. Without asking me what it was for, he filled it up with water and placed it on the stove. He turned it on and faced me. He stifled a yawn.
"I thought someone was breaking in again," he said.
"Really? When?" I wasn't all that surprised, especially in the area where I lived.
"Not too long ago, but he didn't get away." That smile appeared again. It was hard not to imagine it from some kind of horror movie.
Just the way he said it made me nervous.
"Did you call the police?" I asked, casually.
He smirked. "Sure, I did."
I didn't believe him. The eye were the window to someone's soul and his soul was dark. I started to look around just to look away from him. I didn't want to look at him because I knew he would be looking back at me.
"What are you majoring in?" Phil asked as he kept his eyes on my body.
"Uh," I Said unsure of what to tell him, "undecided."
"Your mom said something about cooking," Phil said with a hint of 'don't lie to me'.
"At first," I said, "but now I'm interested in journalism."
He raised his eyebrows. "Really? What made you want to do that?"
"I was in my high school's newspaper and became Editor and… I couldn't stop," I watched him, and he looked sincerely interested in what I did. "What about you, Phil? What do you do?" I asked as I started to look for the tea bags, but once again I had no idea where they were, so I was opening random cupboards.
I felt a bare chest on my back. He reached in front of me and opened a cupboard and behind the coffee there was the packet of the lemon tea. He shook the box in front of my face and chuckled. I felt his very warm breath on my neck.
I took the box from him. "Thanks."
"No problem, tell me Ava, do you have a boyfriend?"
LIE! LIE! My instincts told me.
"Yes, we go to school together," I said, calmly. I turned to face him.
"You never mentioned him in your letters," Phil said, his lips were smiling, but not his eyes.
I widened my eyes a bit. I wrote letters to my mom, like, real letters not e-mails because she doesn't know how to turn on a computer. So, I would send a letter every two weeks to remind her she had a daughter, but Phil read them. He read my letters.
"Uh, it's because it's recent," I lied. "We just got together a week ago and I was coming home, so I didn't see the point of sending a letter."
He stepped away from me and just half a minute later my mom walked in. Did he hear her? Or was it pure luck? What would've my mom said if she found us so close?
"Honey, what are you doing up?" I didn't know if she was talking to me, or Phil.
My mom looked at me and I got my answer.
"I just came for some tea," I said and the kettle pot went off. I turned it off and looked for a mug. "Okay, I really need to learn where things are." I laughed and my mom and Phil did too. My mom got me a mug and handed it to me.
My mom and Phil went back to their bedroom.
As they disappeared from the kitchen, I sat down on the chair. Being so close to Phil had really shook me up. I don't know why. Maybe because I felt like there was something off about him. He might fool my mom, but he couldn't fool me.
There was something wrong with him and I was going to find out. I knew his friends wouldn't give me any information, but I could try. Morrison seemed nicest of them all, and that fateful night he had helped me, in a way.
Later that morning, around nine, I woke up. The tea had definitely helped me get back my sleep. I woke up to the sound of giggling and my mom's squealing. I took one of my pillows and placed it over my head to cover my ears.
The walls were made of paper, not literally, but I could easily hear what they were doing, and I did not want to hear my mom and Phil getting… busy.
When I knew they weren't going to stop in a while, I got up and changed into something comfortable. I brushed my long red and black wavy hair down, and that's all I really needed to do to it, I took my phone and keys, and then I climbed out of my window and into the backyard.
I walked to the front of the house and started to walk down the street. I avoided going the route that would make me walk by the house where I got raped. Instead I went between houses and that would take me to a park.
I went to a small park that was just four blocks from my place. The park always had cops around, but not that it mattered because those cops were being paid to look the other way as drug dealers would sell their venom.
I went to the playground, and it was empty. The kids were in school and the mothers were too smart to actually bring their kids to this park.
I sat on the swing and just swung a little. It made a squeaky noise because of the rust. I always feared it would break on me. I continued to go higher and higher.
I laughed a little when I got the butterflies in my stomach when the swing started to almost make me lift from the seat because I was going so high. As I continued I saw someone, I used my feet as breaks.
Not too far from where I was, Morrison stood there shaking hands with some poor crack head. I easily saw as they exchanged money for a bag of meth. It made me sad to think someone as nice as him was corrupt. Like he knew I was there, he turned to look at me and smiled.
I smiled back shyly and waved. He walked over to me and sat on the swing besides me.
"Hey, what's up?" he said nonchalant.
I shrugged. "Not much and you?"
"Business," he knew that I knew, but we didn't want to say it out loud. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough," I answered vaguely, but I switched the subject. "I could hear my mom and Phil… a little too personal."
Morrison laughed, and it was a nice laugh. Really. I almost forgot that he was a dealer and he was just a normal guy.
"Yeah, Phil always makes sure his girl screams," Morrison said with an underground innuendo or a personal joke. He looked at me. "You have your mom's eyes."
I nodded. "Yeah."
"But she has black hair," he pointed out.
"The rest I got from my father, whoever he is," I said. I decided to ask my own questions. "What does Phil do for a living?"
Morrison looked away from me. "Why don't you ask him?"
"Because you're here and he's not," I said and he chuckled.
"You're right," he said and then looked at me with a face that said 'you don't want to know'.
"So, a drug lord," I concluded.
"Is there any other business around here?"
"Then why did he get my mom off drugs? I'm pretty sure she would make him rich. "
"He cares for her."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really? He does?"
"They're getting married, aren't they?" he asked as he swung a bit.
I followed suit.
"I don't know. Drug lords are… untrustworthy."
"You don't trust him."
"No, I don't know him."
"He's a good guy… when he wants to be," he chuckled.
"Are you a good guy?" I asked.
"I'm an okay-guy."