I picked a lollipop from the lollipop jar I always keep by my door as I entered my house, slumping on my settee. I was just from the coffee shop after been bailed. Guess I just didn't rethink my plans.
Never before have my plans failed. The guy I was dealing with at the moment was different. It's like he knew my every move, knew what I was thinking or what I was to say. That explains the constant interruptions. Maybe he had heard the lines one to many times but he was manly and mature enough to finish the sentences in his head rather than blurt them out like a five year old.
But that was just my assumption. I couldn't tell if it was that or he was bored with my voice or just impatient. None of my conclusions made me take the matter any lighter. It was going to be harder than I thought. The guy was different.
I moved from the couch to my room, deciding to take a cold shower after the long day.
Instead of closing the windows, I let them stay open, allowing the cool breeze from the Hollywood hill fill my room. I loved the cold and the feeling of chills. Truth be told, I've never understood why.
The curtains billowed, spreading the cool air around. I stripped off my clothes, such a waste of good dress. I should have just kept it in my closet for another day.
The cool air kissed my skin as I walked to the bathroom.
I turned on the shower, cold water running through my body.
So refreshing!
It reminded me of the times I trained with the police. Swimming was an included, mandatory sport.
The first time, I was so afraid to get into the water, afraid to drown.
I was just twenty-one years at the time. Dangling my feet at the edge, claiming I had a chest problem, a petty excuse not to embarrass myself in front of everyone. Trained police officers used to laugh at me every time, and it got into every bit of the nerve present in my body but what could I do. That was the first fear I ever registered into my system.
Things changed when one of the guys pushed me into the pool and one of the guys was none other than Marlon. Surprisingly, I never drowned and I loved the cold water. Ever since, I've been showering with cold water.
I got out of the shower, cold water from my hair dripping on my shoulders. I put on some black leggings and an oversized grey v-neck T-shirt, tying my damp hair up in a messy bun and making myself comfortable on my bed.
I switched on the TV. It had been a while since I relaxed on my bed to watch TV. Second from cold showers, came dramatic TV shows where the main character never achieves his or her goal. But it was becoming quite blasé. I didn't have anything else to do, so TV shows had it.
Suddenly, I received a text from Marlon. I was too lazy to text back, so I called.
"Better be important." I said once he received.
"I should be telling you that." He replied.
"Oh!-Yeah! It wasn't a success." I said as a matter of factly.
"Knew you should have done it my way."
"But, he asked me out on a date." I added.
"What!" Marlon exclaimed. "He did what?"
"You heard me, right?"
I rolled my eyes.
"When? Where? What time?" He asked, his tone alarming.
"If you are thinking to come and gatecrush or send me there with a mic draped on my body, forget it. I thought I made it clear I would do this on my terms. You know, I can decide to continue on without the police involved." I said, swinging the remote control on my hand sassily.
"Do you have any idea who this guy is, Becca?"
"I'm yet to find out!" I retorted acidly.
"Okay! Fine! I won't pry as long as you help as out. Please!" He sighed.
"You sound so desperate."
"Because I am, Becca! I am! I'm not ready to lose the only job I have ever been committed to or go to jail for some fraud. I'm building a reputation here." He said.
I laughed. The salient desperation in his voice made me to. I never thought it would come a time I would crack for the first time. I expected Marlon to ask me what was funny but instead,
"Becca? Are you okay?"
"Why?"
"You've just laughed. I've never heard you laugh before. The tone of your voice always approached severity. Tonight it's different. I'm surprised." He said.
He was right! I never showed my emotions, I would definitely hide them. My facial features always screamed blank. What was happening to me?
"I guess I just had it hidden for long." I admitted.
"It was beautiful, Becca. I mean it."
"Quit drooling!" I retorted harshly, rolling my eyes.
"And you are back." Marlon lamented.
I shook my head, laying on the bed.
"I was also looking forward to, you know, take you out sometime." He added, sounding a bit nervous.
I took in a breath.
"Look..."
"It's okay if you don't want. I was just taking my chances." He quickly said, cutting me off.
What was up with people not letting me finish what I was to say?
"No!-I was going to say, we should try it sometime. Not soon but soon enough." I said, completely oblivious of how I suddenly changed from a cold heartless bitch to some softie. Someone had to have that impact on me.
"I never thought I'd hear those words from you. Anyway, good luck with your mission and thanks for the chance." He said then hanged up.
Not even a goodnight? Well, I've never known how relationships or acquaintances worked, I shouldn't expect much.
But what just happened?
That's the question I didn't have an answer to.
I was distracted out of my thoughts by the sudden announcement of a new mail from the TV. I sat upright, changing my settings to switch to mails.
It was from Dr. Xander with a black envelope as the subject followed by,
"You need to see this!" I read out loud.
I clicked on the new mail.
Dear Becca,
Dr. Baldowski managed to compile your memory into a disk and it is attached to this mail. But before you watch, hear me out first.
You might have a deep-rooted belief concerning your personality but don't play a personality you are not. Yes, something or someone might have deluded you to that particular belief but believe me, that's not who you are.
I told you, you're shutting your vulnerable self and it's not healthy. Don't let it confuse you and become more dangerous than you are. Get rid of that self-deception. Look around your house and think of how you came up with a bright contrast of colours that don't match your dark, cold and very overwhelming personality.
I'm not implying you don't need your dark side, it might be of use at some point but not always. Just to mention, I figured this all out when I watched your memory. Be yourself, Becca!
Aside from that, we might have triggered something during the procedure. We don't know what, yet, so be on the look out. Goodnight!
~Dr. Xander
I finished reading, clicking the video immediately to watch.
I laid back on the bed rest as I watched. Everything felt new yet it wasn't. It wasn't supposed to.
It all felt familiar but I couldn't remember it as I was supposed to. I received it as a new memory as if registering it for the very first time.
I then felt something trickling down my face. I looked out of my open window, it wasn't raining. I looked up at the ceiling. Perfectly sealed. Not a single leak.
I touched my face, it was wet!
Tears?! I was crying?!
I've never cried before. This was also new.
"Dan!" My father called.
I returned my attention to the screen and saw my six year old self, crying. I used to cry.
I used to be stubborn and cheerful, carefree. I had a life, a future but my uncle decided to get in the way.
I held myself together as I watched to the end, the part Dan threw a knife at my parents and they had no choice but to run.
"Becca!"
"Mama!"
Black!
I clutched onto a pillow and felt myself breaking apart. The doctors triggered my fucking emotions. I've never expressed how hurt or sad I felt prior to that particular night.
How could life be so cruel? I lost my brother and my parents were forced to leave me dying in a tunnel. I grew up with foster parents who grew tired of me and eventually kicked me out, the only place I tried calling home.
I've been shutting everybody out after I lost my precious memory that locked every door to my happiness and carefree self.
I couldn't control my tears anymore and cried myself to sleep.
"Becca! Becca! Wake up!-Goddamn it! Wake up, Becca! You've never slept in." Someone said in my ear, stroking me lightly.As far as I was concerned, I lived alone and no one but Xander and the police knew.I didn't open my eyes because I thought I was dreamin
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had on a short, two-piece, black bodycon dress with a slit on my left side for flexibility. I was left-handed in writing and in fighting. The slit was an added advantage.I accompanied my look with some light make-up, peach lip gloss and black ey
I needed a drink.I filled my wine glass then made my way to the said table. I picked a random chair and sat, waiting nervously. I quickly regained my composure when four handsome men walked towards me.I leaned on the chair and sipped from my glass, plastering a smile
I stared at the beaten man in front of me. His jet black hair was scruffy, his brows a bush over his eyes and had a dirty line of shaven moustache under his nose. His nose looked broken one too many times as it faced the left.His white dress shirt and pair of black dress pants were covered with a layer of dust from when I tuckled him to the ground.I didn't have time for him
"Becca!" A voice, low, deep but soft, called.I closed my eyes even tighter not wanting to wake up from my dream where I was the queen of the dark, sitting on a black acrylic royal chair with a gold wood finish. Every morning I woke up, I would walk to the mausoleum connected to my palace by an underground tunnel, clanking my heeled boots along the cobblestone tiles as I checked on my prisoners. Each cell had someone who had crossed my line one way or another. It wasn't until I walked to the end where two cells were separated from the rest. The cells
I knocked on the old, all too familiar oak wood door, memories of the last moments I had there flooding my mind. They were still fresh and bruised just like a wound from a bicycle fall.My foster mother opened the door. Shocked to see me, she called my foster father then moved to hug me."I can't believe you are here. We left off on the wrong foot. I never thought you'd come back." Shamali said pulling away just as Ian appeared beside her."Becca! It's so great to see you." He said, hugging me too then ushered me inside.I walked in the newly renovated house. What used to be a polished wooden floor was replaced by a stone vinyl cushion. The wood on the stairs was evenly polished and shiny, a brown carpet running all through only allowed to expose the sides.Just by the door, there was a long, raised stool cabinet that gracefully held three picture frames. Two of them were of Shamali and Ian in Venice while the other one, between the two was of me whe
I stopped at the red light and nursed my cut, using an Elastoplast to cover its ugliness. It was best to keep off dust and air from the cut.I wondered if my parents were looking for me or they had given up with their search. Sewing my name on the dress was clever, making that as their first lead but there was no report of a missing child over all the years. Were they dead? Did they think I was dead?
"Becca, I can-let me make this up to you.""Don't you give me that threadbare crap." I scolded as I picked myself up."You've known all this time we were related, haven't you?" I asked as I forced him by his arm to face me. He still didn't spare a glance, instead his ga