Realitet Pakuptim(Albanian)

Realitet Pakuptim(Albanian)

Ishte herët të enjten në mëngjes kur ajo mori lajmin e tmerrshëm se burri i saj kishte vdekur.

Ajo kishte pyetur veten pse ai nuk u kthye në shtëpi natën e kaluar, edhe duke pritur nga telefoni, përfundimisht duke e thirrur atë por kurrë nuk mori një përgjigje.

Ajo sapo kishte ecur me femijet E saj, Liseta dhe Alonso, ne rrugen e tyre te gjate per ne autobusin e shkolles ne pritje, duke pershendetur me kujdes teksa ajo iku me zhurme, duke e lene ate te buzeqeshte dhe te bjere me dore teksa autobusi nuk shihej. Duke u kthyer në shtëpi ajo kuptoi se zogjtë ishin veçanërisht të qetë, në mënyrë jo normale kështu, kjo e bëri heshtjen të parehatshme pasi ajo ishte e bllokuar me mendimet e saj të paprera; as era kërcitëse gjethet e rënë nuk ishte aq e zhurmshme sa zakonisht. Ajo i zbuti flokët e saj gërsheta të zeza anash përpara se të tërhiqte pa pushim në mëngët e pulovrës së saj blu-gri, duke i mbështjellur fort krahët rreth trupit të saj ndërsa ajo filloi të kthehej në shtëpi, duke dëgjuar nga afër kërcitjen nën këpucët e saj, mendja e saj ende ende ende ende po bredh në konfuzion se ku ishte burri i Saj, Rykeri. Disa hapa larg verandës së saj, ajo e ngadalësoi duke ecur ndërsa dëgjoi tingullin e një makine, hapat e saj u lëkundën pak ndërsa ajo u kthye, duke zbuluar modelin e zi e të bardhë të Belmontit, Makinën e policisë Së Ohajos që po i vinte drejt saj. Shkëlqimi kundër xhamit të përparmë nga qielli gri e bëri të pamundur për të parë se kush po i jepte makinës, duke e lënë të pasigurt nëse do të ndjehet i gëzuar apo i shqetësuar me pamjen e papritur.

Sa më afër i afrohej aq më shpejt rrahja e zemrës së saj, duke marrë frymë thellë ndërsa ajo shikonte makinën të tërhiqej pak metra larg. Duart e saj në mënyrë të pandërgjegjshme duke u përdredhur me njëri-tjetrin ndërsa ajo priti që dera e makinës të hapej, papritmas të ndihej e parehatshme edhe pse ishte mjaft ftohtë. Ajo i dinte rreziqet që i kishte burri i saj për shkak të punës së tij, dhe e dinte se ai mund të plagosej apo vritej në çdo thirrje, por asgjë nuk do ta përgatiste atë për vështrimin e dëshpëruar të oficerëve teksa dilte nga makina.

Rykeri ishte duke thirrur me partnerin e tij për një grabitje dhe hyrje në një zonë banimi, krimineli kishte dalë nga mbrapa dhe e kapi shtëpinë për t'u afruar pas tyre ndërsa hynin nga dera e shkatërruar, duke qëlluar të dy herë prapa, para se të vraponin. Policia po e kërkonte tani atë, por ka vetëm dy dëshmitarë, një që e pa atë ndërsa filloi të hapte derën e tyre dhe një komshi që pa se çfarë po ndodhte dhe thirri policinë.

Siç e shpjegoi oficeri se çfarë i ndodhi mendjes së saj u zbraz, zhurma tashmë e zhdukur e pyllit plotësisht dhe se nxehtësia e parehatshme u zhduk papritur, duke e lënë trupin e saj në vend të kësaj të ndjehej bosh. Ajo shpejt e gjeti veten të detyruar të kthehet në realitet kur oficeri kishte arritur të prekte shpatullën e saj, nuk ishte e pasjellshme apo e padëshirueshme, pasi ky oficer ishte shok i mirë me veten dhe Rykerin, por papritur dhe papritur kontakti i papritur e tronditi aq sa t'ia merrte shpatullën dhe të bënte një hap mbrapa. Dhe, ja, ai u tërhoq prej krahut të vet, e shikimi i tij u ul poshtë në dysheme, e ajo filloi të pendohet, sikurse ajo e kuptoi se ka vepruar.

Më në fund tha, "Më vjen keq Carter, ndjehem pak i tronditur për momentin."Zëri i saj me trimëri të qetë, një belbëzim i vogël ndërsa përpiqet të kuptojë dhe të kontrollojë të gjitha emocionet që kalojnë përmes saj. Një pamje mirkuptimi lahet në fytyrën e tij para se t'i tund kokën solemnisht dhe të kthehet në makinë, "Lamtumirë E Trishtuar."Carter foli, duke ofruar një buzëqeshje të shkurtër, të trishtuar para se të hynte në makinën e tij dhe të largohej.

Kishte shumë mendime që nxitonin në kokën e Sadenit, të gjitha lajmet nuk e goditën ende plotësisht. Me mendjen e saj duke garuar ajo u fut ngadalë në kabinën e saj në shtëpi, duke mbyllur derën para se të pushonte ballin e saj ashpër kundër drurit të ngjyrosur, duke i dhënë vetes një moment paqeje para se të largohej dhe të shkonte në telefon për të bërë disa telefonata.

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Shtëpia është e errët, duke dhënë një aureolë shqetësuese dhe e lëvizur; dielli nuk ka lindur ende dhe nuk ka drita pranë, megjithatë këtu është një djalë me uniformën e shkollës dhe çantën e tij në heshtje duke mbyllur derën e përparme. Ai fillon të largohet nga shtëpia e tij shpejt, atmosfera e shqetësuar që e rrethon atë ngadalë duke u larguar nga larg sa më larg, shpatullat e tensionuara dhe duke u pakësuar në një paranojë të lehtë.

Ai ka një shenjë mbi sy, ngjyra e kuqe që e bën të qartë kundër lëkurës së tij të zbehtë. Ai mori këtë shenjë në të njëjtën kohë që humbi nënën dhe gjysmë motrën e tij, përplasja me makinë ishte brutale, vetëm ai dhe një nga pasagjerët e tjerë që kishin mbijetuar.

Ai i mban sytë larg nga dritat e verbëra që kalojnë çdo herë kur ai ecën në trotuar, paranoja e tij duke u zhdukur sa më afër Pellgut Të Bingham-it. Ai gjen një vend larg rrugës, duke vënë çantën e tij poshtë ndërsa sheh mjellmat dhe rosat e përgjumura. Një buzëqeshje e vogël nderon tiparet e tij siç e mban mend kur ai dhe nëna E tij, Liz, vinin këtu herët në mëngjes për të folur dhe parë lindjen e diellit para shkollës; buzëqeshja e tij zhdukej sa më shpejt që kishte arritur, kur e kuptoi se mund të vinte vetëm këtu tani. Ai gjithmonë mund t'i kërkonte njerkut Të Tij Alek të vinte me të, por kishte frikë nga çdo përgjigje që Dha Aleku, veçanërisht tani që ai ishte i vetmi që i mbijetoi përplasjes së makinës.

Në një përpjekje për të shkundur mendimet e tij nga e kaluara ai shikon prapa tek mjellmat, admiron bukurinë e tyre në ujin e errët. Disa rrezet e para të diellit fillojnë të shkëlqejnë në qiellin e zbehtë, një fllad i lehtë që e bën atë të dridhet pasi ai nuk ka xhaketë uniforme që kushton para shtesë. Ndërkohë që ai ulet dhe përkulet kundër një peme ai e shuan dhimbjen që i ndez në shpinë para se ta shkundte dhe ta tërhiqte çantën drejt tij, duke zbërthyer metalin ngrirës dhe duke u afruar, duke tërhequr një dosje që përmban detyra shtëpie të pambaruara.; shumë prej tyre ishin rrënuar e lotë, edhe pse ai i mbante në dosje. Duke liruar një psherëtimë të lodhur dhe të dëshpëruar, ai filloi të punonte, duke filluar me emrin e tij, 'Arçer Carlisle', duart e tij të ftohta po e bëjnë më të vështirë për të shkruar dhe për të parë dritat e rëndimit nëpër sytë e tij, ndërsa ai e di se nuk do t'i bëjë të gjitha këto detyra shtëpie përpara shkollës; frikë mbushjes së tij me mendimin për t'i treguar Alekut për klasën e keqe edhe pse detyra e tij të pambaruara dhe të shqyera ishte faji I Alekut. Me një psherëtimë tjetër ai u kthye në punë, duke u përpjekur për të përfunduar sa më shpejt dhe sa më saktë të jetë e mundur.

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Ka kaluar një javë që kur më thanë për vdekjen e tij, e dija që nuk mund të rrija në Shtëpinë tonë të rehatshme Të Ohajos, veçanërisht që kur Rykeri e ndërtoi atë; vetëm se duke hyrë nga dera më bëri të vjellë duke e ditur se nuk do ta shoh më kurrë.

Funerali ishte dje pasdite... Fustani i zi që kisha veshur tani është një grumbull hiri gri në zjarr. Vajza Ime Liseta shkoi me mua, ishte një ditë me erë me një spërkatje shiu të hedhur në tokë jashtë; duket se bota madje po vajtonte për humbjen, por kjo është ndoshta vetëm unë që po i vë gjërat e thjeshta. Djali Im Alonso e mori vdekjen e babait te tij shume fort, e di se sa afer ishin, dhe duke pare djalin tim duke qajtur beri nje lot permes fasadës time te fuqise, por me duhej ta fshija shpejt teksa perqafoja djalin tim duke qajtur. E qara e tij zgjati për një orë, Liseta filloi të qante, gjithashtu kur pa formën që dridhej Nga e imja. Atë natë ndenja me ta në dhomën e tyre, ulur në dysheme në mes dy shtretërve të tyre, një dorë është kapur në secilën nga të miat siç u thashë histori për t'i joshur ata për të fjetur. Kur e dija që ata ishin në gjumë, vazhdova t'i mbaja duart e tyre, duke u anuar kokën time pas murit të drurit teksa shikoja lart në tavan, drita nga hëna duke krijuar hijet e degëve të pemëve në murin e kundërt. Thjesht u ula aty, duke menduar për telefonatat që bëra ditën që mora lajmet.; deri javën tjetër, ajo që ka mbetur nga familja ime do të jetë në vilën Tonë Skoceze, larg nga këtu, larg tij.

Akoma duhet t'u them fëmijëve, nuk jam i sigurt si t'u them që po largohemi, nga gjithçka që na kujton babain e tyre. Unë vetëm mund të shpresoj se ata nuk do të përbuzë mua për këtë vendim, por vetëm duke qëndruar në këtë shtëpi shkakton mendjen time për të enden në një drejtim unë nuk do të lejojë veten për të shkuar në.

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Zilja bie me zë të lartë ndërsa unë ngutem në derën e mbylljes së klasës sime, duke shikuar në dhomë unë i shoh të gjithë të ulur dhe mësuesi duke më shikuar me vëmendje. Duke ulur vështrimin tim, shtroj detyrat e shtëpisë dhe kthej faqet e përfunduara në kosh para se të kaloj në tavolinën e mësuesit tim për të arritur sediljen time, duke shmangur vështrimin e tij dhe të gjithë të tjerëve gjatë gjithë kohës.

E di që nuk duhet të trembem nga mësuesit e mi, Por Z. Currai ka të njëjtin zë të ashpër si Aleku, dhe nuk mund të ndihmoj por të jem i shqetësuar sa herë që shkel në klasën e tij; rregullat e tij strikte dhe frikësuese nuk më ndihmojnë saktësisht kur përpiqem të bëj dallimin me të dy.

Z. Currai po më shikon nga kompjuteri i tij, unë gëlltis nervozisht dhe ndaj pak në sediljen time ndërsa shikoj poshtë në letrën që kam vendosur me delikatesë mbi tavolinën time. Biseda e qetë e klasës kishte rifilluar disa momente më parë, por u ndal shpejt kur Z.Currai shtyu figurën e tij të anuar nga tavolina e tij dhe eci në kohën e parë të klasës.

"Z. Carlisle, dëshiron t'i shpjegosh klasës pse u vonove? Përsëri."Dënimi i tij i parë mospëlqyes kundërshtoi shumë fjalimin e tij të ashpër 'përsëri'. Në mënyrë të pandërgjegjshme unë e ul kokën time si klasa është e heshtur, klasa të tjera mund të qeshin, por ata nuk e dinë për të bërë shaka në këtë klasë.

E tund kokën ' jo ' i besoj plotësisht zërit tim për t'iu përgjigjur pa belbëzuar.

"Nuk të dëgjoj, Arçer. Mund t'ia shpjegosh klasës pse u vonove."Zëri i tij i mprehtë, i theksuar ra kundër heshtjes dhe nuk la vend për të shmangur pyetjen e tij. E di që po më shikon teksa pret përgjigjen e tij. Më në fund e shikoj atë, duke u përgjigjur qetësisht ndërsa shikimi im dridhet vazhdimisht midis tij dhe tavanit.

"Fjeta shumë, zotëri, nuk do të lejoj që të ndodhë përsëri."U përpoqa të prezantoja një fytyrë të qetë për ta ndaluar atë që të më thërrasë përsëri, mendja ime brenda po shtien me mendime në se ai do të pranojë justifikimin apo jo. Një e dytë kalon para se ai të kthehet në tabelën e bardhë dhe të fillojë të shkruaj, të gjithë shpejt kopjojnë atë poshtë në fletoret e tyre, biseda duket se është harruar. Mendimi i shqetësimit vazhdoi të më acaronte në kokë se ai e dinte se justifikimi im ishte i rremë, por nuk kisha kohë për të dhënë atë ndonjë spidim pasi unë isha tashmë duke mbetur pas shënimeve, dhe lëndimi im i fundit i dorës nuk do të përfitonte as nga unë.

Klasa përfundoi më në fund, shumica e njerëzve ishin paketuar dhe po prisnin tek dera për zilen, vetëm pak njerëz ishin ulur në tavolinat e tyre. I vë detyrat e shtëpisë në dosjen e tyre, dhe e vendos bllokun tim në çantën time. E arrij dosjen kur një dorë tjetër e kap në fillim, një dorë që nuk i takon asnjë studenti. I mbaj sytë lart para se të shikoj poshtë në tavolinë, Ishte Z. Currai ai që po mbante dosjen e detyrave të shtëpisë, ai po anonte mbi tavolinë ndërsa po kalonte nëpërmjet dosjes së hapur tani.

"E dini, organizata dhe kujdesi juaj nuk rritet kur ju ktheheni në letra të shqyera."Ai pohon se ndërsa mbyll ngadalë dosjen, duke e mbajtur atë jashtë për mua që ta marr, gjë që e ndjek shpejt, duke e vendosur atë në çantën time.

"Do të më thuash arsyen e vërtetë pse duket gjithmonë se je vonuar?"Z. Curraig pyetje, zëri i tij normalisht i zhurmshëm dhe i ashpër tani është më i qetë dhe që përmban një aluzion shqetësimi. Kanë kaluar disa momente dhe duhet të përgjigjem kur të zërojë.,

"Arçer, nëse ke një arsye të vërtetë se pse je vonë, e kuptoj, por nuk mund t'i pranoj më këto justifikime të rreme. Kjo është hera e 10-të që je vonuar. Nëse nuk mund të më japësh një arsye të vërtetë atëherë më duhet të të dënoj."Zëri i tij nuk ishte kurrë shumë i rreptë apo i ashpër gjatë dënimit, duke patur më shumë një ton paralajmërues ndaj tij, por e gjitha që mund të grumbulloj është të tund kokën ngadalë' jo ' ndërsa shikoj lart për të takuar vështrimin e tij. Z. Curraig thjesht pret një sekondë para se të lëshojë një psherëtimë të eksperuar dhe të largohet nga tavolina.

"Mos u vono për paraburgim Z. Carlisle."Është e vetmja gjë që thotë ai para se të kthehet në tavolinën e tij, zilja e ziles dhe studentët që nxitojnë të dalin nga dera, unë ndjek menjëherë që të mos vonohem në mësimin tim të ardhshëm. Mendimet e mia për pjesën tjetër të ditës janë të mjegulluara se si Do të reagojë Aleku kur të kthehem vonë në shtëpi, si do të reagojë kur t'i them se kam dënim përsëri. Pellgjet e tmerrshme në gjoksin tim, e bëjnë të ndihen të shtrënguara dhe ajri mbytet ndërsa unë e kaloj ditën.

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Ditën e parë në shtëpinë tonë të re, ishte një vilë që e kishin prindërit e mi dhe unë e trashëgova. Larg Nga Ohajo, larg Nga Rykeri, Deri në Glasgou, Skoci, i vendosur në një zonë të mirë me fushat e gjelbëra dhe një mur guri që e rrethon me kujdes.

Liseta dhe Alonso e kishin marre levizjen me mire se sa e prisja, duket se ata donin te largoheshin aq sa une. Kisha thirrur përpara që të sigurohesha që vila ishte gati kur mbërritëm, dhe një mik i prindërve të mi do të vinte të shikonte fëmijët e mi që kur më duhet të shkoj në punën time sa më shpt të jetë e mundur. Duke vrapuar nga shtëpia, i jap një përqafim shokut, shpejt duke deklaruar se do të jem në shtëpi para se të garoj tek makina Ime Me qira Volksvagen. Lidhëset e çantave që përdredhin teksa përpiqem të vendos gjithçka në makinë, shpejt e fus në ndenjësen e pasagjerit para se të rregulloj pasqyrat dhe të nisem për në punën time të re.

Retë gri të shpërndara në qiell më kujtojnë shumë shtëpi, por ky qytet i zënë është pikërisht ajo që unë kam nevojë për të marrë larg nga jeta ime e vogël e qytetit. Të ngasësh në anën e majtë është shumë e çuditshme, diçka që do të mësohej me të.

Kur hyra në parking vura re se shkolla është afër fundit të ditës, shpresoj të mos më pushojnë as para se të filloj. Shpejt duke dalë nga dera e zyrës, rregulloj qëndrimin dhe këmishën para se të shkoj në tavolinë dhe të pohoj se jam mësuesi i ri i shkencës. Gruaja buzëqesh para se t'i telefonojë dikujt, mendoj drejtori ose ndoshta një mësues tjetër.

Pas pritjes për rreth 2 minuta, dera e zyrës hapet me zë të lartë, një njeri i gjatë me flokë të trashë ngjyrë kafe dhe një shtat frikësues futet brenda, duke i dhënë një tundje të vogël gruas para se të më afrohet mua. Ngrihem dhe i jap dorën e ofruar.

"Përshëndetje, Unë jam Z. Curriagh ose Aric, jam këtu për t'ju shoqëruar në klasën tuaj."Zëri i tij ka një theks të trashë për të, diçka që do të më duhet të mësohem gjithashtu tani që kur jetoj në Skoci. Qëndrimi i tij frikësues duket se kontraston me buzëqeshjen miqësore që ofron ai.

"Gëzohem Që të njoha Ariç, Jam i Trishtuar."Unë me edukatë përgjigjem përpara se ai të më nxjerrë nga zyra dhe poshtë korridorit.

"Pra, ti je mësuesi i ri i shkencës?"Ai shpreh kureshtje të vogël, duke vazhduar të lundrojë në sallat bosh.

"Po, çfarë mëson?"Unë vë në dyshim, duke ecur më shpejt për të mbajtur ritmin e tij të mprehtë.

"Oh mua? Unë gjithmonë kam qenë një person letërsie."Reagimi i tij bën që të duket një buzëqeshje e vogël, fakti se njerëzit këtu janë kaq të mirë dhe mikpritës është diçka që unë e adhuroj. Ne kemi ardhur në një ndalesë pas një tjetër momenti të ecjes.

"Epo, kjo është klasa jote, edhe pse erdhe pak vonë."Ai shpjegon ndërsa ne shohim studentët që paketojnë çantat e tyre. Nëse lëshoj një psherëtimë të qetë, sigurisht që do të më mungonte e gjithë dita e parë e punës sime.

"Mos u shqetësoni për humbjen e klasës tuaj, ju mund të vini për të ndihmuar me paraburgimin ose për të eksploruar terrenin."Ariç pohon se ndërsa ai hedh sytë nga dritarja tek unë, unë do të përgjigjem kur zilja të bjerë me zë të lartë, duke i bërë jehonë përmes sallave bosh përpara se dyert e klasës të hapen dhe studentët të dalin. Ne të dy qëndrojmë pranë dritares deri në klasën time të qetë përsëri, vetëm disa studentë qëndrojnë rreth, ndërsa disa janë vetëm duke përfunduar paketimin.

Ariç kthehet të më flasë përsëri kur shikimi i tij kthehet pas meje, britma e tij e papritur më befason, dhe shpejt kthehem të shoh fajtorin.

Një djalë i ri me flokë të errët ngjyrë kafe menjëherë ndalon, sytë e tij shkojnë gjerë nga të bërtiturat, krahun e tij shtrënguar mbi librin e tij të shtrënguar në gjoksin e tij.

"Arçer. Dënimi është në drejtimin tjetër."Ariç pohon ndërsa shkon tek studenti. Do të prisja që çdo student të ishte nervoz që të thirrej nga një mësues, por ky student, Arçer, u duk i tmerruar plotësisht.

Para Se Arçeri të mund të përgjigjet, Ariç fillon të flasë përsëri. "Kjo është hera e dytë që po përpiqesh të kapërcesh paraburgimin, Arçer."Duke dhënë një pushim të vogël ndërsa ai pret për një përgjigje, pasi nuk ka marrë asnjë, ai lëshoi një psherëtimë irritimi para se të deklaronte," Eja me Mua Arçer."Duke filluar të më kthehet pas, Arçer, duke ndjekur disa hapa prapa me sytë e tij të stërvitur në dysheme.

"Më vjen keq që e shkurtova turneun tuaj, por më duhet ta shoqëroj këtë student në paraburgim."Ariç thotë se ai shikon Prapa Arçerit.

"Mjaft mirë Ariç, të vjen keq nëse vij me ty? E humba ditën time të parë pas së gjithash."Unë pyes, duke i vështruar Arçer, sytë e tij nuk kanë lëvizur nga dyshemeja gjatë gjithë kohës. Ariç shkurtimisht e tund kokën para se të çojë në paraburgim. Unë shpejt ndjek, duke u përpjekur për të mbajtur lart, duke dëgjuar si Aric përshkruan pjesët e shkollës që ne kalojmë nëpër.

------

Kush është ky person? A është ajo mësuesi i ri? Ajo tha se e humbi ditën e parë këtu, dhe mësuesi ynë i ri për shkencën nuk ishte në gjendje të vinte.

Ngre kokën lart, sytë e mi duke e parë atë për një moment dhe mendoj nëse duhet të pyes apo jo. Më në fund duke i dhënë kuriozitetit, pyes, "a jeni ju mësuesi i ri i shkencës?"Çështja ime duket se i tremb ata të dy nga biseda e tyre e vogël, Z. Currai tani i heshtur ndërsa pres reagimin e saj. Ajo kthehet tek unë dhe ofron një buzëqeshje miqësore para se të përgjigjet, "po, ky jam Unë, Ju mund të më thërrisni Znj Monroe."Reagimi i saj është i këndshëm por i shkurtër dhe zëri i saj u duk të lëkundej pak kur tha mbiemrin e saj, duke e bërë kokën time të përkulet kaq pak në konfuzion ndaj hezitimit të saj për të folur mbiemrin e saj.

"Gëzohem Që ju njoh Znj. Monro, unë quhem Arçer."Unë përgjigjem, zëri im duket më i sigurt dhe më i fortë se toni im normal, ndonse mezi e mendoj atë. Për çfarë kohe ka mbetur nga shëtitja deri në dënim, e kalova duke folur me Znj Monroe, nuk e di pse, por ajo dukej e lehtë për të folur me të, mund të kishte qenë nga qëndrimi dhe lartësia e saj jo frikësuese, ose ndoshta që ajo të më kujtonte nënën time, të dy të cilat janë të besueshme.

Po flisnim për librin që po mbaja kur Z.Currai u ndal, dhoma e paraburgimit mbahet përpara nesh. E kap dorën, e harroj menjëherë dëmtimin e dorës, derisa të çliroj një hungërimë dhimbje, menjëherë duke e tërhequr kyçin e dorës dhe duke e mbajtur në kraharor si agoni e ashpër që përmbyt sistemin tim, duke më kujtuar të djeshmen.

Z. Curraigh dhe Znj Monroe duken të tronditur nga shpërthimi im i papritur i dhimbjes, Znj Monroe është gati për të thënë diçka, por unë nuk kam kohë të mendoj, duke u penguar mbrapsht unë kthehem pak dhe iki. Unë shkoj në vendin e vetëm ku ndihem i sigurt, Pellgu I Bingamit, apo Pellgu I Mjellmave siç thoshte nëna ime; vetëm duke kujtuar se shkakton një valë ankthimi për të kaluar përmes trupit tim, të gjitha këto gjëra që vazhdojnë të ndodhin janë shumë dërrmuese. Në fillim humbas nënën dhe motrën në një aksident me makinë, pastaj njerku im(i cili tashmë nuk më pëlqeu) më fajëson mua për këtë, dhe tani kam një mësues që më kujton saktësisht nënën time, thjesht nuk e di se si duhet të ndjehem ose të përgjigjem për këto situata më. Jam kaq i zënë me këto mendime pjellore dhe dhimbje, saqë nuk i dëgjoj hapat që po më afrohen. Ishte dora e papritur në supin tim ajo që më bëri të gulçoja në prani të një personi tjetër. Shpejt po e kthej kokën, pres të shoh Z. Curraig ose ndoshta Alek, por në vend të kësaj jam takuar nga buzëqeshja e trishtuar E Znj Monroe ndërsa ajo strukej pranë meje. Duke kapur dorën e saj për kyçin tim të dorës, unë përkulem, por pas një sekonde tjetër e lejoj të shohë kyçin tim, duke injoruar pasojat e mundshme që ajo të dyshonte se si e kam duruar këtë plagë.

Ishte një zgjerim i vogël i syve të saj që më bëri të ndiqja vështrimin e saj, zgjodha të mos shikoja kurrë plagët e mia, kështu që pashë kyçin tim të fryrë dhe të nxirë sytë e mi për tu zgjeruar. Ajo prek lehtë kyçin tim të dorës dhe unë menjëherë largohem, dhimbja përvëluese në krahun tim. Ajo duket të ulet aty në një moment mendimi, sikur po mendon atë që duhet të thotë.

"Arçer. Si ndodhi kjo?"Ja ku ishte, e vetmja gjë që nuk doja të dëgjoja. E tund kokën dhe vështroj larg, vetëm tani e kuptoj se disa lot më ishin derdhur në fytyrë, duke i fshirë shpejt me dorën time të lirë. Nuk i përgjigjem refuzimit tim, kështu që vështrova Mbrapa, duke parë Edhe Znj Monroe duke mbajtur lotë, pse, nuk e di. Duke e dridhur kokën e saj, ajo e shtyn veten jashtë dyshemesë, dhe arrin një dorë për mua, të cilën unë ngadalë e marr. Tani duke qëndruar unë e pastroj veten me dorën time të mirë, duke mbajtur lirshëm çantën time të shpinës ndërsa pres pyetjet e saj.

E vetmja gjë që ajo bën është, që duket të tundë kokën për vete, para se të lëviz që unë ta ndjek atë. Ajo më çon në shkollë, kurrë nuk më flet dhe nuk më shikon, duke vështruar me ngulm, pothuajse bosh. Ajo më çon në dhomën e mjekësisë dhe më thotë të pres te dera ndërsa ajo largohet për të biseduar me një infermiere. Pyes veten se çfarë po thotë ajo, a dyshon ajo se njerku im i ka shkaktuar këto plagë? Apo mendon se një student tjetër ma bëri këtë? A duhet të vrapoj deri sa ende e kam shansin? Mendimet e mia befasohen teksa Edhe Znj. Monro dhe infermierja vijnë tek unë, nervozizmi im që shkelmon në një person tjetër që është i pranishëm.

U përpoqa të mos i kushtoja vëmendje ndezjes së dhimbjes ndërsa infermierja më mbështolli kyçin e dorës në një qese akulli, i ftohti i ftohtë që më bën të dridhem ndërsa moti jashtë ishte tashmë i ftohtë. Pas disa minutave të ngrirjes së dorës ajo sjell një fasho të ngjeshur, snuggly mbështjell kyçin tim dhe dorën, dhimbja është pakësuar, por mban një dhimbje të qëndrueshme që rrethon gjithë krahun tim. Kur mbaron më jep udhëzime për ditë, dhe një shënim për klasën që ishte dora ime e shkrimit.

Duke u futur tek dera, e pashë Znj. Monro duke pritur atje, buzëqeshja e saj miqësore u zëvendësua nga një pamje serioze dhe e ashpër, që i bën hapat e mia pak më ngurruese. Do të largohemi nga dhoma e mjekësisë dhe do të dalim në korridorin e qetë dhe të shkretë, fytyra e saj është ende serioze sa të ndalemi të dy.

"Si E gjete Atë Harkëtar plagosur?""Nuk ishte një çështje, por diçka që kërkoi një përgjigje, një të cilën isha jashtëzakonisht hezitues ta jepja. Duke e tundur fytyrën time larg saj unë tund kokën' jo ' përsëri, nuk dua t'i them të vërtetën, gjëmim mendor se do të shkaktojë më shumë dhimbje se të mirë, edhe nëse ajo do të më besonte mua askush tjetër nuk do ta bënte.

"Arçer, nëse nuk më thua, atëherë do më duhet t'i them zyrës të telefonojë babanë tënd."Pohon ajo, zëri i saj që humbet disa nga ashpërsia e saj ndërsa përpiqet të më bëjë të përgjigjem.

Duke dëgjuar thirrjen E saj Alek babai im i bën të gjitha këto ndjenja të shpërthejnë, zemërimi im po rrjedh lirisht, dhe unë nuk mund të ndihmoj por të reagoj kaotikisht, "AI NUK është BABAI im!"Bërtitja ime i bën jehonë korridorit, heshtja e lënë pas saj është e parehatshme, e gjithë ai besim i shtyrë nga inati lë shpejt trupin tim ndërsa nxjerr. Ajo nuk është budalla, ajo do të kuptoj se çfarë po ndodh, unë do të marrë larg nga shtëpia ime, vendi i fundit që më kujton mamanë dhe motrën time.

Qëndrimi i saj duket se u forcua pasi e dëgjoi përgjigjen time, unë vetëm mund të shpresoj se ajo nuk do të jetë e zemëruar me shpërthimin tim.

"Do të të pyes edhe një herë. Kush e bëri këtë."Zëri i saj ishte shumë i qetë, dënimi i dytë u shkëput ashpër dhe nuk la vend për justifikime. Më në fund përballem me të, edhe pse koka ime është ende e ulur, sytë i dridhen asaj aq shpesh sa mendoj se çfarë do të them.

"....Alek."Zëri im praktikisht pëshpërit, edhe pse e di që e dëgjoi dhe e di se dikush tjetër e di këtë sekret më bën të ndjehem... vulnerabël.

Jack Celliers: Sadie

Imagine your husband(Jack) finds you in the POW camp:

I've been here for so long that the beatings don't seem to hurt anymore. It's like I'm not quite in my body anymore, instead I'm watching it, almost as though I'm just an onlooker.

I don't know how I managed to get here, all I know is that I tricked my military into thinking I was a man, and next thing you know I'm out here fighting a war, only to be caught. My trial was short, I was nearly sentenced to death, but by a stroke of luck I was detained as a prisoner of war. That's not to say that I feel lucky, most definitely not, you have no idea how hard it is to hide being a female when you are a prisoner.

I've lost so much weight that I no longer have my period, so that is a big help, but I also know that this quick weight loss is incredibly unhealthy. Now the only issues I have include hiding the fact that I wrap my chest, as well as making sure that I consistently lower my tone.

I don't socialize too much with the other soldiers, I barely even talk to Lawrence, and the only reason I do is because he goes out of his way to initiate conversations with me. I think he has assumptions about my true identity, he does have quite the analytical mind, and I would have to be an award winning actress to pull the wool over his eyes; but as of yet he has made no mention of this towards me, my only evidence being the cautious glances as well as a sudden protective nature.

_______

I can't say for sure how long I've been here, but I know it's been at least a couple of months now. I've gotten closer with Lawrence, no longer minding our occasional chats. I seem to be the preferred punching bag for the guards, so I told Lawrence early on, that should anything ever happen to me, I want only him to treat me; I don't care how bad my injuries are, only he is allowed to treat me.

This is the third time this week I've ended up in our makeshift hospital, no one but Lawrence will even come near me in fear that my bad luck might rub off on them. I'm more than sure Lawrence knows I'm a woman, but he still hasn't said a thing about it to me.

All I know is that I can trust him... I hope.

_______

Lawrence's POV:

Bailey Stevens... quite a good soldier from what I remember, but I barely know him really, or should I say 'her'; because I obviously know that this soldier is a woman, and I suspect that she knows of my assumptions.

She's extremely reserved, which is expected from everything she's been put through; the guards here seem to love beating on her. I'm not sure whether it's due to her being physically smaller than everyone, or because she has an intrinsic need to act; probably both.

I can't help but feel a need to protect her, she's like the rebellious sister I never had. I can't allow the Japanese - or anyone for that matter - to figure out that she is a woman. Who knows what they would do to her.

_______

She's been unconscious for a couple of days now, only having brief periods of consciousness where she might drink some water, or says 'hello' before going back under. I don't know what to do anymore, I've told our doctor everything, and I've done everything he's told me to do, but she still sleeps the days away.

To add on, I've got another friend here now, Maj. Jack Celliers, another determined soldier who was born to act. I know I'll have my hands full with these two when they both get back on their feet.

__

It's late into the night when her form begins to stir, I quickly sit up, wondering if today will be the day her strength returns. I must admit that I've missed her rebellious spirit, though I also fear how she will react to having possibly lost sight in her right eye.

Her eye flutters open, wandering around the rundown building before focusing on me. She tugs the covers tightly against her chest, and I can see the underlying fear emanating from within her gaze, I can only offer her a soft smile to try and calm her down.

"I know Bailey... I know. No need to worry, your secret is safe with me." My tone is gentle and friendly, and I can see her body losing the tension that had been building. Releasing a quiet sigh before bringing a hand up to her face, gently running her fingers over the gauze covering her right eye. I feel my body slightly go rigid as she looks to me for an explanation.

"Bailey, during your last beating... you were struck quite a few times to the head... It caught you right in the eye. We're not sure whether you'll have sight in it when it's healed...I'm sorry."

_______

Bailey Stevens' POV:

My chest tightens at the explanation, knowing you might lose sight in one of your eyes is an incredibly scary thing to be told. Especially in a place like this where surviving is already hard. I raise my gaze to Lawrence and see the sadness in his eyes, he looks ashamed of telling me about my injuries, almost as if feeling at fault.

I reach out my left hand, softly resting it atop his.

"It's alright, it's not your fault." I offer him a gentle smile as he gives me his own. Our moment is interrupted by the groaning of another person, I look to him in question as to who it is. He responds with another smile before shaking his head.

"That's another troublemaker quite like yourself, Bailey." His voice contains a sad humor in it, one that makes me want to laugh and frown at the same time.

"What's his name?" My voice is a whisper, but I have switched to my normal tone, it feels refreshing not having to hide who I am.

"That would be Jack Celliers. He quite reminds me of you actually, almost ironically." His tone once again holds that same gloomy humor. I however feel my eyes widen in shock as I hear his name, my heart rate increasing at the thought of it being my Jack Celliers.

"Jack Celliers?" My voice holds confusion as well as surprise, I never thought I would see him again until the war ended, that or in heaven. When he left for the war, I knew he might never return, so I put on my disguise and rolled the dice. It's been so long that I thought I might never see him again, but here we both are, stuck in the same POW camp.

"Yes.... Do you know him?" Lawrence looks confused at first, but upon seeing the worry on my face, he quickly contorts into a knowing gaze; a small smirk grazing his features at my lack of response.

"Ahh, so you do know him." His voice raises above a whisper slightly, and I quickly shush him, not wanting anyone to wake up and hear our conversation.

"Yes... Yes, I do know him. Is he alright? What's happened to him? Is he going to be oka-"

"Slow down there Bailey... When he arrived his condition was just as bad as yours, but the doctors say he's recovering quite well and will be good as new soon." My whole body relaxes at hearing he's getting better and will be alright. As I lean back, a strong sense of sleepiness rushes over me, that and the pain of my beatings; but I've never fought harder in my life to keep my eyes open, I know Lawrence can tell I'm struggling.

"Is there anything you might want me to tell him should he wake up before you?" He speaks quickly, wanting to give me enough time to respond before I lose consciousness.

"Tell him.. tell him Sadie says 'hi'." You can practically hear my smile as I tell him to use my real name. He also gives me a smile, and that's the last thing I see before darkness consumes my vision once more.

_______

Lawrence's POV:

Sadie, what an oddly fitting name for the girl who acts to survive.

I quietly walk over to Jack's bed to see if he's is awake. I'm not sure this is the best time to tell him, but at the same time, who am I to withhold this information.

As I reach his secluded sleeping arrangement, I watch as he turns slightly, his eyes fluttering open. Recognition flows through them as we look at each other.

"Hello Jack."

"Lawrence." His voice is gravely, and I can tell his body is exhausted. I slowly sit on the bed beside his own, rubbing my hands together in thought. He looks at me as he awaits what I am clearly contemplating saying.

"Jack... Is there the possibility that you know someone named Sadie?" My voice is hesitant as I speak, but the look of recognition over hearing her name immediately tells me everything I need to know. He carefully nods his head, his eyes now fixed on me with a new sense of focus.

"I only ask because another soldier recognized your name and asked me to tell you 'hello'." I can see the confusion swirl in his mind as to how another soldier knew your name, or why they would ask me to say 'hello'.

"Jack... That soldier is a woman, who goes by the name of Sadie, and claims to know you. Is there something I should know?" When he hears that the said soldier is a woman, his body jolts forward, not only in shock, but concern as well. I don't know their past, but the way they react to hearing about each other tells me they are much more than friends.

"I have to see her." Jack gasps, hurriedly stumbling to get out of his bed. I immediately rush forward, providing support for him as he attempts to stand.

"Are you sure about doing this right now? How about in the morni-"

"No, I need to see her. NOW." He doesn't raise his voice at all throughout his sentence, but the way he speaks is with such conviction, such certainty and determination that I know there will be no talking him out of this. I hesitantly nod my head, helping him walk over to her own secluded sleeping area, carefully setting him down on the bed beside hers.

He just sits there, staring longingly at her unconscious form. He looks sad, depressed even, at the sight of her. His hand slowly reaches out, softly gliding his fingers over the rough gauze that covers the right half of her face.

"How... What happened?" His tone exudes concern, but his face remains stoic.

"She tried to stop the guards from harming another soldier, I suppose you could say she got their attention." My sentence is formatted in a humorous way, but my tone remains serious. She nearly died from this, I don't find anything about that to be funny.

Jack sat there for a few more moments, just silently thinking to himself as his fingers continuously drift along the gauze.

"Will she be alright?" His tone is slightly higher, like what happens when your throat tightens up in the early stages of despair. I can tell that seeing Sadie like this brings him immense pain, maybe even guilt, but I know that he probably doesn't want me to bring it up.

"She's quite the fighter, just like you. The doctor says she should be fine, but we have no conclusive evidence on what will happen to her eye. Odds are 50/50." I try not to sugarcoat anything, but I also try to be respectful of what I say. This is the woman he loves, the last thing he needs to hear is that she might not make it.

Jack solemnly nods his head. I move forward to help move him back to his bed when he suddenly looks up to me.

"Can I stay here? In this bed?" His eyes are pleading for me to say yes, and I know that if the woman I loved were here, I too would want to stay right next to her.

"... Alright, you can stay here. But there are some things you should know first. No one else but us two know that she is a woman, alright? And she goes by the name Bailey Stevens, so when she does come around, and others are awake, just call her Bailey, alright?" Jack's eyes burn with curiosity at hearing her chosen name, but he nods his head in understanding.

I say goodnight to him, before turning and walking off a little bit. Slightly intrigued, I turn and watch from afar as Jack gently kisses one of her hands before laying down in his own bed, not once facing away from her. My mind only has one thought running through it the entire time:

"This could either be really good, or really bad."

David Bowie: The Actress

Imagine David Bowie being interviewed, and the conversation suddenly focuses on you:

David Bowie's POV:

"So David, in the newest music video you had a lovely woman beside you. Would you mind telling us about her?" The question caught me off guard, we had previously been talking about advice for younger artists, so this was a drastic change.

I find myself tilting my head in confusion, Y/N was a well kept secret. She is beloved by all of America, yet somehow managed to stay hidden away from all of Europe; but I never thought she was so niche that the British media couldn't find any information on her.

The interviewer noticed my change in mood, deciding to reword her rather blunt question.

"I don't mean that in a rude way, we know that she is the lovely actress Y/N L/N. I was simply wondering how it was that you stumbled upon her... Over here many haven't even heard of her." She leans forward, eagerly awaiting my response.

"Of course, what would you like to know?" I don't really know what to expect, Y/N is quite the spectacular woman, and the questions are sure to be spectacular as well.

"Well... How did you two meet? Did her people contact you? Was it pure chance?" The interviewer clasps her hands together as she awaits my answer. I start thinking about how I got in contact with her, having to stifle a smirk at the memory of her manager's surprise when he learned that David Bowie wanted Y/N in his newest music video.

"I reached out to her." I state calmly as I imagine her serene voice, smiling slightly as I replay her moments of stubbornness during filming. She wasn't a rude sort of stubborn, but she stuck firm to her beliefs, and always knew how to win my approval.

"You did!?" She's clearly taken aback at hearing I specifically wanted such an 'unknown' actress starring with me. I can't help but want to sigh in annoyance, Y/N deserves much more recognition for her amazing skill. Her acting is stunning, and I learned over filming that her musical talent is just as brilliant, if not better. That reminds me, I'll have to ask her about a possible future collaboration.

"Yes... I had seen her in the film 'Poem to a Murderer,' and had subsequently written a song in admiration of her. Then when the song was chosen from my album to get a music video, I simply couldn't pass up on the chance to meet the wonderful actress herself." She was breathtaking in that film, gaining both my admiration and attention in the psychological thriller. The interviewer nods in thought, mulling my answer before opening her mouth to respond.

"Can you tell us anything about her role that caught your attention?" There's so much I could say, so much I want to say, but I don't want to spoil the amazing movie. How do I word this into a short sentence whilst still exclaiming my admiration for Y/N?

"Well, the movie itself was a beautifully written and produced piece of art in itself, disturbingly surreal in a way with the imagery they created. I don't want to spoil too much, but I can tell you that every second of that film keeps you on your toes, and Y/N's character kept me on the edge of my seat every scene she was in." I can't help but praise everything about her. She was exceptional in the film, and started me on a search to find and watch everything that she starred in.

"Ever since the music video, theories about you have been flying all through England. Any chance there might be some truth to them?" She asked the question so bluntly that I'm almost stunned. I'll never get used to interviewers being borderline rude while asking intrusive questions.

"Well it really depends on what's being said. I always have rumors circulating about me." I chuckle slightly, both in humor as well as hidden disdain at the truth of my statement. I am slightly intrigued about what she is talking about specifically, what theories have formed about me this time?

"I have sources who claim to have been on set during filming. They said you two were incredibly flirty with one another. They reckon a romantic fling occurred behind closed doors?" Her question isn't said cruelly, she genuinely seems curious; as does the audience from the looks of it. I hate these questions, why does everyone always have to spread rumors?

"Sorry to disappoint you, but there was no 'romantic fling'. Y/N was a very polite and professional person, so much so that I actually thought she didn't like me at first." I laugh through the latter part of my sentence, but I also cringe faintly at the feeling of dejection I had during that time.

"Really! She didn't like you at all?" This is becoming vaguely annoying, I tell them something, then they restate it wrong.

"That's not what I said, I said I thought she didn't like me. During the beginning of filming she was very closed off and focused, but even when the cameras were off she was professional to the point I thought she didn't like me." I explain with a sigh, remembering those moments where I shyly would try talking to her, only to be met with what I perceived as a closed off response.

"Oh, but... did she like you?"

"Luckily she did. It was funny, I remember the specific moment I realized that she didn't hate me. We were filming the fight scene, and the person I was sparring with, Jeffrey Callos, actually caught me in the jaw." I explained before she burst forward in astonishment.

"You were punched? Bet he got the sack." Her eyes are wide open as she surveys me, the crowd laughing lightly at the second half of her sentence.

"Ha ha, not quite. You see, my crew plotted this because they said I was being daft thinking she hated me. I had bet that she would stay in character and play it off, maybe even laugh. Practically everyone else bet that she might kill Jeff."

"Well! What did she do!"

"Funny enough, she nearly killed Jeff... " The audience burst out laughing at my statement, the interviewer and I were chuckling as well. I waited for everyone to settle before continuing my story.

"No no, she didn't kill him. She did run right over, fretting over me and asking if I was okay before running off IN HEELS to get me an ice pack and towel. I can't tell you the relief I felt at that moment. I was worried that she really hated me, but deep down she was incredibly caring and very sweet." I feel embarrassed in a way, describing how caring this reserved woman became when she saw me topple over from the punch.

"So... Does she know? The truth I mean?" Her question is quick to follow my explanation, so quick I don't understand it completely.

"What's that now?"

"Does she know the truth? Did she find out it was a set up?"

"Ah, yes well, it is kind of hard to miss when everyone is smirking at us as she helped me up. I had to explain the situation, and she got awfully flustered." A warm smile spreads across my face at the memory of her with a deep blush across her cheeks.

"I almost thought she would punch me as well, but she just kissed my cheek before saying she could never hate me."

"Aww." The crowd 'oohs' and 'awwws' at the story, I admit that the memory has me blushing slightly as well.

"She seems like quite the memorable lady." She smiles at me, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Oh, she was great... I only wish I could've gotten to know her better, but her manager was getting calls for her every second of filming. She's probably much too busy to even remember me." I drop my smile slightly, I hope she remembers me, because I'll always remember her.

"I wouldn't say that David." Her response caught me off guard, what's she talking about?

"What do you mean?" My tone shows a little confusion, but I try to keep a check on my emotions.

"You know we invited you here to not only talk about this album, but also your future role in the film Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence?" She's grinning widely now, but I just want to know what she's building up to already.

"Yes... But what does that have to do with Y/N?" I squint my eyes slightly as I watch her sit up sharply.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the lovely Y/N L/N, who will be starring alongside David Bowie in Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence." The shock on my face must have been priceless as I turned and watched as Y/N gracefully walked towards us, the crowd's cheers quickly shifting into a mixture of giggles and laughter.

I stand up quickly, wanting to be polite as well as impress her. I may have neglected to tell the interviewer, but I did develop a slight attraction towards Y/N during filming.

"Hello Jonesey." Her sweet voice has me ignoring the name, a wide smile erupting across my face. She leans forward to hug me, kissing my cheek softly in greeting before shaking hands with our interviewer. I wait for her to sit before following suit, nervously glancing sideways to see her smiling at me already.

The crowd cheers for a few more moments, gradually beginning to quiet down.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Jonesey?" I blush at the nickname, remembering when she first started calling me it. I don't even know how it started, but she first called me 'Jonesey' to make me laugh when I was filming a serious scene in the video, and laugh I did. From then on, 'Jonesey' was her go to nickname whenever she saw me.

"It's only been a few weeks, love." I grin, patting her hand gently as it rests on the armrest. Surprise gripping me as she lifts up my hand to her lips, gently kissing it before speaking.

"Too long for me." She smirks playfully to me, and I offer her a warm smile in reply before nervously glancing away.

The crowd has quieted down enough now, hopefully not noticing the intimate moment that passed between us.

"What was that? Seems like a lot more than costars catching up." Of course, the interviewer is sadly never one to miss a possible question. My mind stutters as I try to think of what to say, luckily not having to.

"I just love making Jonesey blush, surely he's told you that."

"What do you mean miss L/N?" Oh no, why do interviewers always manage to dig up embarrassing personal things. I'm usually okay with this, but being so near Y/N just has my mind fried.

"I mean, hasn't David told you of all the times I purposely just tried to make him blush during filming? I have a wonderful amount of memories where he couldn't even get a word out with how flustered he was." She giggles at the end of her sentence, lightly shoving my shoulder humorously as a blush dusts my cheeks again.

"David? You've been holding back on me?" The interviewer looks at me in a jokingly accusing way, crossing her arms as she looks at me.

"Nooooo... I've just been.. Selectively sharing?" My voice is uneven, I couldn't even form a proper sentence when she was near me. I glance to Y/N as I practically ask my sentence, waiting for her to nod in confirmation before shifting back to the interviewer a little more confident.

However, that confidence was a little damaged when the audience laughed at the interaction.

"Well, I think we know who wears the pants in the relationship. Anyways... " The interviewer continues on as I struggle to try and find my words to argue with her, but I'm quickly silenced by Y/N's gentle tug on my sleeve. She pulls me back in my seat, quietly whispering in my ears,

"You can show me who's the boss after... " Her words are delicate, no longer exuding the confidence from earlier, clearly unsure of how I'll respond.

The interviewer continues rambling, but I simply gaze deeply into her eyes, calmly kissing her hand in response before we both turn our attention back to the interviewer. But we aren't really paying attention, our minds wandering to scenarios of what might play out when this interview finishes.

Unraveled Ch.4: Reacquainting

Ch.3 Ch.5

"Was it an accident? Did he fall?" Beth questioned, trying to get a grasp on the situation after having calmed down.

"We don't know yet." Alec responds, though he and I know the grim truth that Danny was most likely kidnapped and murdered.

Ellie and I had been making tea for everyone, hoping to calm their nerves slightly. I could tell that Chloe wasn't okay with this situation at all, she was just leaning solemnly against the wall.

"Can you think of why he might've been up on the cliffs last night or this morning?" Alec starts questioning, trying to get as many ideas as to why Danny was up there, and who some suspects might be.

"He wouldn't have been." Beth states, just trying to stay calm, her mind still having trouble believing Danny is dead.

"Well, he obviously was." Came Mark's quick and blunt reply, causing me to subtly glance over at him, wondering why he would snap slightly at Beth like that.

"He didn't have any reason to be." Beth quickly recovered.

"How was Danny over the past few days. " I immediately voiced, wanting to get the tension between the pair gone.

"He didn't kill himself, if that's what you're suggesting Els." Mark stated, looking directly at me, almost as if slightly offended by my question.

"He's been just... normal." Came Beth as she tried her best to reply.

"He wouldn't kill himself. He knows he can talk to us about anything." Mark states, Chloe finally walks away from the wall to sit down next to her father.

"And you last saw him when?" Alec asks, attempting to understand the situation and create a timeline of the events.

"I looked in on him about 9:00 last night. He was lying in bed, reading." Beth states as she rocks herself to try and gain comfort. There is a short silence that follows, Alec thinking about what to ask next.

"Anyone see Danny this morning?" Alec questions as he looks between the family members.

"No, he's up and out before anyone else, he's got a paper round. But he didn't turn up for that. Jack, I spoke to him, he runs the paper shop." Beth states slowly as she recounts what occurred that morning.

Alec continues to question them, but my mind goes to thinking about suspects, so far Beth, Mark and Jack will have to be individually questioned, We're going to have to get the family's alibis as well as Jack's. My thoughts are suddenly brought back to reality when Mark asks if he can see the body. Everyone looks at him in slight shock and disbelief, especially Beth, but I understand his reasoning of wanting to make sure it's Danny and not someone else.

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Ellie leaves to take Mark to go view the body. Alec and I are left at the house, he's goes around to Danny's room, and I'm left with the family.

"Auntie Els, are you sure it's Danny?" Chloe questions timidly, her grandmother looking at me as well. I look down at the floor before looking into Chloe's eyes.

"Yes Chloe.... the body we found is Danny's; and I know that our D.I. is a new person, and that you don't know him, but I can assure you that Alec, Ellie, and I will make sure to find out the true story as to what happened to Danny." I assured them. Chloe only nodded whilst her grandmother attempted to comfort her.

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Back at the police station Alec and Ellie we're giving a debriefing, I was asked to join them but I always preferred to watch, one of the reasons I never went for the D.I. position after my last employment. Alec being the softy he is for me, allowed me to watch instead of give the debriefing; which earned a surprised expression from Ellie, almost as if she didn't believe he would cut anyone some slack. But she quickly pushed away the shock, probably thinking of confronting me at another time as to why the abrasive D.I. got along with me.

"Was Danny Latimer abducted? Did someone gain access to the house, if so, how? If it wasn't forced entry, who has the key? We need to collect any CCTV from a mile radius around the house...Miller, the family, who are they and where were they?" Alec voices, walking in front of the whiteboard before leaning against it during his last few sentences, the group in front writing down what they say.

"Beth had Chloe, their eldest daughter, when she was 15 and Mark was 17. Mum and daughter were at home watching telly, they say they didn't leave the house until school the next morning. Dad was out on an emergency call-out, he's a plumber, he got in around 3:00. Neither parent thought to check on Danny. Gran lives nearby, she was there all evening, the other Gran lives in Wales." Ellie recounted, looking like she was falling apart inside at the thought that her closest friend's son is now dead.

After taking in all the information, Alec sternly looks at the group, stating,

"Until we're ready, all of this remains confidential. No gossip. You understand?...Right, go on." His voice stern and serious, not wanting any of this information to get out in the press. Everyone getting up to follow up on the information given.

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I was down near the pier, taking in everything that had happened. After the debriefing I had rushed out of the department and to my home near the water because I was right on the edge of having another panic attack. There was a pushy male coworker who seemed to have more than a crush on me, he also didn't understand boundaries or how to take no for an answer; leading to him sliding his hand onto my lower thigh while I was sitting at my desk. This movement brought up the traumatizing event that happened only a month after moving into Broadchurch, the memories hit harshly, and I simply rushed out of there immediately. Luckily I made it home and got inside just before my mind was taken over. When I finally calmed down enough to make myself look proper I headed outside, and sat down on a bench, able to see a lot of the ocean and pier.

As I'm looking along, I see our Chief Super talking with Alec. I can only imagine that she's talking about him handing the case over, but knowing him he would never stand down just because of the past. God, I've never really paid attention to how much I've missed Alec, how I've missed his headstrong personality and his ability to stay focused. How he would chew someone out to the point where they were practically crying and then turn back to me and ask if I would pick up Daisy with him. I especially miss his daughter, Daisy, now that I think about it.

My chest tightens as I reflect back to right before the case, his family life struggling, but when it was just me, Daisy, and Alec, he would always be smiling.

Back then, Alec and I were always together, and Daisy absolutely adored me, I never really realized how empty my life has been without them. Even though I befriended the Miller's and the Latimer's, my life was depressing, though I always put on a facade so no one asked questions. Alec and Daisy were my life, sure, his wife hated me and my closeness to her husband and daughter, but that didn't stop Alec and Daisy from loving me.

Sometimes, when I am reminiscing about before the case, my mind will drift to my favorite memory of the three of us.

It was a total of one day before we would get called onto the Sandbrook case. Alec and myself had our off day, and were sitting down in a park. He had been explaining to me about the troubles he was having with Tess, how he had heard rumors in the office about her cheating, and how when he confronted her, she barely argued about it. Alec has only been getting more stressed out, he was even more stressed out than back in high school when his parents would constantly fight and argue in front of him.

Since I knew we would be busy the next day, I suggested we spend this day with Daisy. I texted her that we would pick her up from school and take her to ice cream. As I drove us to her school, I explained to Alec to forget work and his issues, and to focus on enjoying the moment.

At the ice cream store, Alec and I both got mint ice cream whilst Daisy got strawberry, we had just finished eating when it started bucketing down outside, not taking more than a few seconds for puddles to form. Me being the child I am, sprinted out the door to stand in the rain, splashing in some puddles as I ran to the park down the street. I could hear Alec and Daisy running after me, Daisy laughing gleefully at my childish personality whilst Alec chuckled as well.

At the park I finally stopped running, taking deep breaths as I looked back just in time to see Daisy run and jump onto me, causing both of us to fall back into a puddle since she is practically my size. Alec just stood there smiling at us, helping me out of the puddle and finally dragging me out of the rain and to the car, Daisy dragging me as well with a smile on her face. We were still drenched and smiling when I drove them home and walked them to their door, hugging Alec bye and giving Daisy a hug and a kiss on the forehead before waving goodbye. That was the last day of real happiness I can remember, everything else only causing a fake show or shallow version of joy on my face.

A shout harshly brings me out of my thoughts, my eyes drifting off the water to spot Alec walking off from Jenkinson, heading off towards town, I immediately ran to catch up with them.

"Alec!" I shout as I near him. He halts so suddenly I barely have enough time to stop, he turns around to face me, having to look down seeing as he is much taller than my 5 foot 6 form. His messy brown hair being blown by the wind as the previous scowl on his face disappears when he realizes that it's me who shouted his name. A ghost of a smile forming on his face as he visibly softens his harsh features.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, Carlisle." He states in his rugged accent, his accent thickening as he says my last name, which caused my right eyebrow to raise slightly.

"Shut it Hardy, I know you're glad to see me too." I state sassily back. He glares into my eyes when I use his last name, and I glare back, only able to hold it for a few seconds before breaking into a smile. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms loosely around his neck and drag him down in a tight embrace. His stature immediately tenses, and for a second I even think he's going to shove me away, but then his arms delicately envelope me in return before pulling me tightly against his chest. We stay like this for a few moments before releasing. He looks at me questioning as to why I broke off the hug.

"Don't give me that look, I know you've got the mean, hard-ass D.I. image to hold up, you hugging me in public is not going to help maintain it." I smirk as I poke his chest. He thinks for a moment, then widely grins as he grabs my hand poking his chest and yanks me into a tighter hug, to which I gladly return. We release each other after a minute or so and begin walking down the sidewalk, smiles on both of our faces as we talk.

"So, is this where you ran off to all that time ago?" Alec finally asks after a few moments of silence, his voice not harsh or confronting, but more of a soft questioning and wondering tone. He looked at me, awaiting my answer, his eyes always seemed so vulnerable to me.

"Yes... I've been here the whole time. It brought back good memories; and when I left, good memories were the only thing that kept me alive." I hesitantly state as I look away from him. He nods his head slowly while glancing down in thought.

"I heard Miller call you Elspeth; but you and I both know that isn't your name." He gruffly voices, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets as he glances up at me questioningly.

"I was wondering if you had noticed that. I no longer go by Elswyth, I'm mainly doing that to... prevent any connections to Sandbrook." I speedily state the second part, shutting my eyes quickly as if that would block out the memories of the case, my whole body shuddering slightly at the thought of it.

"It's alright if you still want to call me Elswyth, though I'd prefer not in public. When we are around other people just act like you normally do, call me Carlisle and be rough and rude like normal so that no one knows of our past connections." I follow up, stopping our walk as I look over to Alec. He seems conflicted, but understands why I would go through such hassle to avoid connections with the case. He lifts his eyes from the ground, his gaze looks softer, his tough guy facade always seems to fade when he's around me. He simply nods his head and we start walking again quietly.

"Want to know what I was thinking about when I saw you talking to our Chief Super?" I suddenly voice, a smile spreading across my face as I remember. Alec looks up from the floor, releasing a grin as well when he sees mine.

"What were you thinking about Els?" He questions softly yet slightly sarcastically as he looks at me expectantly.

"I was remembering that day when you, Daisy, and I went out for ice cream and ended up splashing in puddles at the park. You remember that?" I explain, my smile brightening as I look over at Alec. He smiles back at me, but I can see that among the joy of the memory there is some pain.

"How are Daisy and Tess?" I ask, wanting to know what I've missed since I've left. His smile immediately falls as he breaks eye contact, seemingly thinking about how to answer.

"Well Els... Tess and I are divorced now.... I haven't seen Daisy for quite a while. We got divorced shortly after the case, turns out those rumors were true, and Tess has Daisy." At hearing this my steps sharply stutter to a sudden halt. My eyes wide at hearing the news of my best friend's divorce and loss of custody, guilt flooding my eyes as I think of how I left and didn't contact any of them, thinking they would recover with each other, but in reality Alec was all alone. The guilt that had been buried is resurfacing, a sharp pain welling in my chest as I look guiltily over to Alec's tired face.

I'm about to say something when Ellie walks up to us. We all start walking down the sidewalk in silence.

"So what did Jenkinson want?"

Ch.3 Ch.5

Sinnelose Realiteit(Afrikaans)

Dit was vroeg op'n donderdag oggend toe sy ontvang die verskriklike nuus dat haar man is dood.

Sy het gewonder waarom hy nie terugkeer huis laaste nag, selfs wag deur die selfoon, uiteindelik hom roep, maar nooit ontvang'n antwoord.

Sy het net geloop het haar kinders, Lisette en Alonso, hul lang oprit na die skool bus wag, saggies waai totsiens as dit luidrugtig weggery, uiteindelik laat haar glimlag en hand val as die bus het uit die oog. Draai terug na die huis loop sy besef die voëls is besonder stil, abnormaal so, dit het die stilte ongemaklik as wat sy was vasgevang met haar eindelose gedagtes; nie eens die wind huppelend die blare was so hard soos gewoonlik. Sy stryk haar swart gevleg hare na die kant voor pluk onrustig op die moue van haar blou-grys trui, styf wikkel haar arms om haar liggaam as sy het begin om die loop terug huis toe, luister nou na die crunch onder haar skoene, haar gedagtes nog dwaal in die verwarring oor waar haar man, Ryker, was. 'n paar stappe weg van haar stoep sy vertraag haar loop as sy hoor die geluid van'n motor, haar wankelrige stappe effens as sy omdraai, die onthulling van die staan-uit die swart-en-wit patroon van'n Belmont, Ohio die polisie die motor ry in die rigting van haar. Die glans teen die voorruit van die grys lug het dit onmoontlik gemaak om te sien wat jy ry, laat haar onseker is of om te voel oorstelp van vreugde of ontstelde op dit se verbasing voorkoms.

Die digter dit gery het die haar hart vinniger klop, neem in vlakker asem as sy kyk na die motor trek na'n stop'n paar meter weg. Haar hande onbewustelik wring mekaar as sy gewag het vir die motor deur te swaai oop, skielik voel ongemaklik warm, selfs al was dit redelik koud. Sy het geweet van die gevare haar man was in danke aan sy lyn van werk, en het geweet dat hy kon beseer word of gedood op enige oproep-uit, maar niks sou haar voor te berei vir die moedeloos kyk op die beamptes gesig as hy klim uit die motor.

Ryker was op die oproep met sy vennoot vir'n breek en betree in'n residensiële sone, die kriminele gegaan het uit die rug en afgeronde die huis te kom agter hulle as wat hulle gegaan het om te gaan deur die busted deur, skiet beide paar keer in die rug voor die loop. Die polisie is tans op soek na hom, maar het net twee getuies, een wat bijhorend hom as hy het begin om te breek maak hul deure oop, en'n buurman wat gesien het wat gebeur het en het die polisie.

As die beampte verduidelik wat gebeur het haar gedagtes het leeg, die reeds gedemp geraas van die bos heeltemal verdwyn en dat die ongemaklike hitte skielik verdwyn, die verlaat van haar liggaam in plaas daarvan voel leeg. Sy het gou gevind haarself gedwing om terug in die werklikheid toe die beampte het bereik uit om haar aan te raak skouer, dit was nie onbeskof of onwelkome aangesien hierdie beampte was baie goeie vriende met haarself en Ryker, maar die skielike en onverwagse kontak geskok haar genoeg te ruk haar skouer weg en neem'n stap terug. Hy het onmiddellik onttrek sy arm, sy oë gegooi af na die vloer, terwyl sy aangebreek'n jammer kyk as sy besef haar optrede.

Sy ten slotte gesê, "ek is jammer Carter, ek-ek voel net effens oorweldig op die oomblik."Haar stem timidly stil, 'n effense hakkel as sy probeer om te verstaan en beheer al die emosies skielik loop deur haar. 'n blik van die begrip spoel oor sy gesig voor knik sy kop plegtig en draai terug na sy motor, "Totsiens Saden."Carter het, bied'n kort, hartseer glimlag voordat versterking in sy motor en ry af.

Daar is baie gedagtes gedruis deur Saden se kop, al die nuus nie slaan haar ten volle nie. Met haar verstand racing sy stadig haar pad gemaak in haar kajuit huis, sluit die deur voor te rus haar voorkop hard teen die lood hout, gee haar een oomblik van vrede voor stoot af en op pad na die telefoon om te maak'n paar van die oproepe.

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Die huis is donker, gee af'n ontstellende en verwarring aura; die son nie opgestaan het nie en geen ligte in die buurt, maar hier is'n seuntjie met sy skool uniform en rugsak op stil-stil die sluiting van die voordeur. Hy begin loop weg van sy huis vinnig, die angstige atmosfeer rondom hom stadig verkwis die verdere hy het, sy gespanne skouers en op die rand kyk vermindering van om net effense paranoia.

Hy het'n litteken bo sy oog, die ietwat rooi kleur maak dit voor die hand liggend teen sy bleek vel. Hy het hierdie litteken dieselfde tyd wat hy verloor sy ma en half-suster, die motor-ongeluk was wreed, net hom en een van die ander motors passasiers na oorleef.

Hy skakerings sy oë weg van die verblindende hoofligte wat slaag deur elke so dikwels as wat hy loop af in die sypaadjie, sy paranoia verdwyn die nader hy nader Bingham se Dam. Hy vind'n plek weg van die pad, die opstel van sy sak af as hy neem die sluimerende swane en eende. 'n klein glimlag genades van sy funksies as hy onthou toe hy en sy ma, Liz, sou hier kom vroeg in die oggend om te praat en kyk na die sonsopkoms voor die skool; sy glimlag verdwyn so vinnig as wat dit aangekom het as hy besef hy kan net kom hier nou alleen. Hy kan altyd vra sy stap-pa Alec om te kom met hom, maar hy gevreesde enige reaksie Alec het, veral nou dat hy was die enigste een om te oorleef die motor te crash.

In'n poging om te skud sy gedagtes weg van die afgelope hy kyk terug na die swane, bewonder hul skoonheid teen die donker water. Die eerste paar son strale begin te gloei teen die dowwe lug, 'n effense briesie wat veroorsaak dat om hom te bewe as hy het geen eenvormige baadjie sedert daardie koste ekstra geld. As hy gaan sit en leun teen'n boom hy winces op die pyn opvlam in sy rug voor skud dit af en trek sy sak na hom, unbuckling die bevriesing metaal en die bereiking van in, trek uit'n gids met onvoltooide huiswerk; baie van hulle het crumples en trane selfs al het hy het hulle netjies in'n gids. Vrystelling van'n moeë en bitter sug hy begin werk, begin met sy naam, "het Archer Carlisle", sy koue hande maak dit moeiliker om te skryf en'n blik van verswaring flitse deur sy oë as hy weet dat hy nie sal kry al hierdie huiswerk gedoen voor die skool; vrees vul hom by die gedagte van om te sê Alec oor die slegte graad selfs al is sy onvoltooide en verskeur huiswerk was Alec se skuld. Met'n ander sug hy het weer aan die werk, probeer om te voltooi as baie van dit so vinnig en so akkuraat as moontlik.

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Dit was'n week sedert ek was vertel oor sy dood, het ek reeds geweet het wat ek kon nie bly in ons gemaklike Ohio huis, veral sedert Ryker dit gebou het; net loop deur die deur het'n walglike gevoel om oor my was om te weet dat ek sal hom nooit weer sien.

Die begrafnis was gister middag... Die swart rok wat ek gedra het, is nou'n hopie grys as in die firepit. My dogter Lisette het saam met my, dit was'n winderige dag met'n sprinkel van die reën afstof die grond buite, blyk dit dat die wêreld was selfs rou oor die verlies, maar dit is waarskynlik net vir my om betekenis in die eenvoudige dinge. My seun Alonso het die dood van sy vader baie moeilik, ek weet hoe naby hulle was, en sien my seun huil het'n traan breek deur middel van my fasade van krag, maar ek het om te vinnig vee dit weg as ek omhels my geween seun. Sy huil geduur het vir'n uur, Lisette begin om te huil as goed wanneer sy sien Al se skud vorm word getroos deur die myn. Daardie aand het ek het saam met hulle in hul kamer, sit op die vloer matte tussen hul twee beddens, een hand onder die knie in elkeen van my as ek jou vertel hulle stories na die stilte van hulle aan die slaap. Wanneer ek geweet het hulle was aan die slaap, ek het voortgegaan om hul hande te hou, leun my kop terug teen die hout muur as ek staar na die plafon, die lig van die maan die skep van skadu van die boom takke teen die teenoorgestelde muur. Ek het net sit daar, dink oor die oproepe wat ek gemaak het die dag toe ek die nuus ontvang; teen volgende week, wat is links van my familie sal wees in ons Skotland huis, weg van hier, weg van hom.

Ek het nog steeds nodig om die kinders te vertel, ek is nie seker hoe om te vertel hulle ons is weg te beweeg, weg van alles wat ons herinner van hul vader. Ek kan maar net hoop hulle sal nie verag my vir hierdie besluit, maar net te bly in hierdie huis veroorsaak dat my gedagtes om te dwaal in'n rigting wat ek sal nie toelaat dat my om in te gaan.

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Die klok lui hard as ek haastig in die sluiting van die deur van my klaskamer, en kyk in die kamer rond ek sien almal reeds sit en die onderwyser kyk na my opvallend. Die verlaging van my oë, ek reguit uit my huiswerk en draai-in die messily klaar bladsye aan die mandjie voor traipsing verby my juffrou se lessenaar te bereik my sitplek, vermy sy en almal anders se oë te alle tye.

Ek weet ek moet nie bang wees deur my onderwysers, maar Mnr Curraigh het dieselfde streng stem as Alec, en ek kan nie help nie, maar word angstig wanneer ek stap voet in sy klas; sy streng reëls en intimiderend statuur nie presies my help wanneer ek probeer om te onderskei tussen die twee.

Mnr Curraigh blik van sy rekenaar aan my, ek sluk senuweeagtig en skuif effens in my stoel as ek kyk af na die papier ek delikaat geplaas op my lessenaar. Die klas se stil chatter hervat het'n paar oomblikke gelede, maar is vinnig gestop weer toe Mnr Curraigh stoot sy leun figuur af van sy lessenaar en rustig strided aan die voorkant van die klas.

"Mnr Carlisle, wil om te verduidelik aan die klas hoekom is jy laat is? Weer."Sy nonchalant eerste sin grootliks gekontrasteer sy harde uitspraak van "weer". Onbewustelik het ek my kop laer as die klas is stil, ander klasse kan giggel, maar hulle weet nie om te skroef rond in hierdie klas.

Ek skud my kop " nee " nie ten volle vertrou my stem te beantwoord sonder om te hakkel.

"Ek kan nie hoor jy Archer. Sal jy verduidelik aan die klas hoekom is jy laat is."Sy skerp, aksent stem lui uit teen die stilte en geen ruimte gelaat om te verhoed dat sy vraag. Ek weet hy is op soek na my as hy wag vir sy antwoord. Ek het uiteindelik kyk op na hom, die beantwoording van stil as my blik voortdurend flikker tussen hom en die plafon.

"Ek het verslaap meneer, ek sal nie laat dit weer gebeur nie."Ek het probeer om aan te bied'n kalm gesig om hopelik ophou om hom van my roeping weer uit, my gedagtes binne-in is blêrende met gedagtes of hy sal aanvaar die verskoning of nie. 'n tweede slaag voordat hy loop terug na die witbord en begin skryf, almal vinnig kopieer dit af in hul notaboeke, die gesprek skynbaar vergeet. 'n aanduiding van die bekommer het voortgegaan om te nag in die agterkant van my kop dat hy geweet het my verskoning was'n vals, maar ek het nie tyd gehad om dit te gee enige nadenke as ek was reeds agter die val op die notas, en my onlangse pols besering is nie presies gaan om voordeel te trek my óf.

Die klas het uiteindelik geëindig het, die meeste mense is gepak en wag by die deur vir die klok, net'n paar mense sit by hul lessenaars. Ek snoepie die opgedra huiswerk in hul gids, plaas my notebook in my sak as goed. Ek bereik vir die gids wanneer die ander hand gryp dit die eerste keer, 'n hand wat aan geen student. Ek keek my oë voor vinnig kyk neer op die lessenaar, dit was Mnr Curraigh wat hou my huiswerk gids, hy was leun teen die lessenaar as hy afgeroomde deur die nou oop gids.

"Y'know, jou organisasie en sorg nie optel wanneer jy draai in geruk vraestelle."Hy sê as hy stadig sluit die gids, hou dit vir my uit te neem, wat ek doen vinnig volg deur met, stil plaas dit in my sak.

"Jy wil my vertel die werklike rede hoekom jy altyd lyk om te laat loop?"Mnr Curraigh vrae, sy gewoonlik hard en streng stem nou stiller en met'n wenk van kommer. Dit was'n paar oomblikke en ek het nog nie om te reageer wanneer hy stemme,

"Archer, as jy het'n werklike rede waarom jy is laat, ek verstaan, maar ek kan nie aanvaar hierdie vals verskonings nie. Hierdie is die 10de keer het jy is laat. As jy kan nie gee my'n ware rede dan het ek het om te gee jy aanhouding."Sy stem was nog nooit baie streng of harde regdeur die sin, met meer van'n waarskuwing toon vir dit, maar al wat ek kan uitkry as'n reaksie is om te onrustig skud my kop" nee " as ek kyk op om te voldoen aan sy blik. Mnr Curraigh net vorentoe kyk vir'n sekonde voor die vrystelling van'n bitter sug en druk af van die lessenaar.

"Moenie laat wees vir aanhouding Mnr Carlisle."Is al wat hy sê voor loop terug na sy lessenaar, die klok lui en die studente gedruis uit van die deur, myself volgende onmiddellik as om nie te laat wees om my volgende les. My gedagtes vir die res van die dag is vertroebel met hoe Alec sal reageer wanneer ek by die huis kom laat, hoe hy sal reageer wanneer ek vir hom sê ek het aanhouding weer. Die gevreesde poele in my bors, maak dit voel styf en die lug versmoor as ek strompel deur die dag.

------

Eerste dag in ons nuwe huis, dit was'n huisie wat my ouers besit en ek geërf het. Ver weg van Ohio, ver weg van die Ryker, al die pad in Glasgow, Skotland, geleë in'n mooi area met lolling groen velde en'n klip muur netjies rondom dit.

Lisette en Alonso het die skuif beter as wat ek verwag het, sou dit lyk asof hulle wou om weg te kom soveel as wat ek gedoen het. Ek het genoem voor om seker te maak dat die huis is gereed vir wanneer ons aangekom het, en'n vriend van my ouers kom oor om te kyk na my kinders, want ek het om te gaan na my werk so gou as moontlik. Gedruis uit van die huis, het ek vinnig gee die vriend'n drukkie, vinnig met vermelding van die tyd ek sal tuis wees voor wedrenne oor na my gehuur Volkswagen voertuig. My sakke band draai as ek probeer om te plaas alles in die kar, ek het vinnig stoot dit in die passasiersitplek voor die aanpassing van die spieëls en die opskrif af na my nuwe werk.

Die grys wolke rommelstrooi die lug herinner my'n baie van die huis, maar hierdie besige stad is presies wat ek nodig het om te kry weg van my klein dorpie lewe. Ry aan die linkerkant is nogal vreemd, al is, iets wat sal neem sommige gewoond raak aan.

As ek trek in die parkeerterrein ek sien dat die skool is nader aan die einde van die dag, ek hoop ek sal nie afgedank kry voor ek selfs begin. Vinnig struikel deur die kantoor deur, ek reguit my postuur en hemp voor loop na die balie en verklaar ek is die nuwe wetenskap onderwyser. Die vrou glimlag voor bel iemand, ek neem aan die skoolhoof of miskien'n ander onderwyser.

Na wag vir sowat 2 minute, die kantoor deur hard clamors oop, 'n lang man met dik lig bruin hare en'n intimiderende statuur vordering in, gee'n klein knik na die vrou voor nader my. Ek staan op en skud sy aangebied hand.

"Hallo daar, ek is Mnr Curriagh of Aric, ek is hier om jou begelei na jou klas."Sy stem het'n dik aksent aan dit, iets wat ek sal hê om te kry wat gebruik word te nou, aangesien ek woon in Skotland. Sy intimiderend houding blyk te kontras met die vriendelike glimlag hy bied.

"Plesier om jou te ontmoet Aric, ek is Saden."Ek beleefd reageer voor om hom te lei my uit die kantoor en in die gang af.

"So, jy is die nuwe wetenskap onderwyser?"Hy stemme in effense nuuskierigheid, gaan voort om te navigeer die leë sale.

"Ja, wat doen jy leer?"Ek vraag, loop vinniger om tred te hou met sy vinnige tempo.

"O my? Ek het nog altyd'n literatuur persoon."Sy reaksie veroorsaak'n klein glimlag te verskyn, is die feit dat mense hier is so mooi en verwelkoming is iets wat ek aanbid. Ons kom tot stilstand gekom na die ander oomblik van die loop.

"Wel, dit is jou klas, maar jy aangekom het'n bietjie laat."Hy het verduidelik as ons kyk na die studente te pak hul sakke. Ek vrylating van'n stil sug, natuurlik sou ek mis die hele eerste dag van my werk.

"Moenie bekommerd wees oor die vermiste jou klas is, kan jy pop in om te help met die aanhouding of verken die gronde."Aric state as hy flikker sy oë van die venster na my, ek is oor om te reageer wanneer die klok lui hard, eggo deur die leë sale voor die klaskamer deure swaai oop en studente lêer uit. Ons albei staan naby die venster om my klas totdat die sale stil sit weer, slegs'n paar studente staan rond, terwyl sommige is nou net die afwerking van oppak.

Aric beurte om te praat om my weer as sy blik draai na iets agter my, sy skielike skree verrassings my, en ek het vinnig draai om om te sien die skuldige.

'n jong seun met donker bruin hare onmiddellik breek, sy oë gaan wye by geskree, sy arm strenger sy hou om sy boek klou teen sy bors.

"Archer. Aanhouding is in die ander rigting."Aric state as hy loop tot by die student. Ek sou verwag dat enige student om senuweeagtig te wees op wat genoem word deur'n onderwyser, maar hierdie student, Archer, verskyn ronduit vreesbevange.

Voor Archer in staat is om te reageer, Aric begin om weer te praat. "Dit is die tweede keer wat jy het probeer om oor te slaan aanhouding, Archer."Gee'n effense breek as hy wag vir'n antwoord, na ontvangs van niemand hy kom uit'n sug van irritasie voor en sê, "Kom saam met my Archer."Begin om te loop terug na my, Archer sleep'n paar stappe agter met sy oë opgelei op die vloer.

"Ek is jammer om te sny jou toer kort, maar ek het te begelei hierdie student te aanhouding."Aric state as hy kyk terug na Archer.

"Heeltemal in orde Aric, omgee as ek kom met? Ek het mis my eerste dag na alles."Ek vraag, skrams by Archer, sy oë nie verskuif van die vloer die hele tyd. Aric kortliks knik sy kop voor die leiding van die manier om te aanhouding. Ek het vinnig volg, probeer om tred te hou, luister as Aric beskryf die dele van die skool wat ons deurgaan.

------

Wie is hierdie persoon? Is sy die nuwe juffrou? Sy het sê sy mis haar eerste dag hier, en ons nuwe onderwyser vir die wetenskap nie in staat was om te wys.

Ek lig my kop op, my oë het op soek na haar vir'n oomblik as ek oorweeg of ek moet vra my vraag is of nie. Uiteindelik gee in te nuuskierigheid, ek vra, "Is jy die nuwe wetenskap onderwyser?"My vraag blyk te skrik hulle albei uit van hul klein praat, Mnr Curraigh nou stil as ek wag op haar antwoord. Sy draai na my toe en bied'n vriendelike glimlag voor te reageer, "Ja, dit is my, jy kan my bel Mev Monroe."Haar reaksie is mooi maar kort, en haar stem gelyk te wankel effens toe sy sê haar laaste naam, wat veroorsaak dat my kop te kantel ooit so effens in verwarring by haar onwilligheid om te praat haar laaste naam.

"Dit is lekker om jou te ontmoet Mev Monroe, my naam is Archer."Ek het reageer, my stem skynbaar meer selfversekerd en harder as my normale toon, al het ek skaars gee dit'n gedagte. Vir die tyd wat oorgebly het van die loop te aanhouding, ek het dit praat met Mev Monroe, ek weet nie hoekom nie, maar sy was makliker om te praat met, dit kon gewees het van haar nie-intimiderend houding en hoogte is, of moontlik dat sy herinner my aan my ma, beide van wat is geloofwaardig.

Ons praat oor die boek was ek hou wanneer Mnr Curraigh kom tot'n stilstand, die kamer wat aanhouding is gehou in wat reg is in die voorkant van ons. Ek reik uit na gryp die handvatsel, 'n oomblik vergeet oor my pols besering totdat ek die vrylating van'n grunt van pyn, onmiddellik trek my pols terug en hou dit teen my bors as die harde aangrypende gevoel dat vloede my stelsel, wat my herinner van gister.

Beide Mnr Curraigh en Mev Monroe lyk geskok oor my skielike uitbarsting van pyn, Mev Monroe is oor om iets te sê maar ek het geen tyd om te dink, struikel agteruit ek draai effens en hardloop af. Ek gaan na die enigste plek waar ek veilig voel, Bingham se Dam, of Swan Dam as my ma gebruik om te sê, net om te onthou wat veroorsaak dat'n golf van angs te vee deur my liggaam, al hierdie dinge wat gebeur is te oorweldigend. Eers het ek verloor my ma en suster in'n motor-ongeluk, dan is my stap-pa(wat reeds nie van my hou nie) blameer my vir dit, en nou het ek'n onderwyser wat herinner my presies van my ma, ek weet eenvoudig nie hoe ek moet voel of te reageer op hierdie situasies nie. Ek is so vasgevang in hierdie produktiewe gedagtes en seer pyn wat ek versuim om te hoor die voetstappe nader kom. Dit was die skielike hand op my skouer wat veroorsaak het dat my om te snak in verrassing op die teenwoordigheid van'n ander persoon. Vinnig draai my kop het ek verwag om te sien'n woedende Mnr Curraigh of dalk Alec, maar ek is in plaas ontmoet deur Mev Monroe se hartseer glimlag as sy crouches langs my. Om uit te reik haar hand vir my pols ek wankel weg, maar na nog'n tweede toelaat dat haar om te sien my pols, ignoreer die moontlike gevolg dat sy dalk die vraag hoe ek volgehoue hierdie besering.

Dit was die effense verbreding van haar oë wat veroorsaak het dat my om te volg haar blik, ek verkies om nooit kyk na my beserings, so sien my pols al geswel en gekneus oorsake my oë te verbreed sowel. Sy het liggies raak aan my pols en ek het dadelik trek weg, die pyn skroei deur my arm. Sy lyk om daar te sit in'n oomblik van denke, as al oorweeg wat sy moet sê.

"Archer. Hoe het dit gebeur?"Daar was dit, die een ding wat ek nie wil hê om te hoor. Ek skud my kop en kyk weg, nou eers besef dat'n paar trane het gestroom my gesig af, vinnig vee hulle met my vry hand. Ek hoor nie'n reaksie op my weiering so ek kyk terug, sien Mev Monroe trane terug te hou as goed, al is die rede waarom, weet ek nie. Skud haar kop, sy stoot haarself af van die vloer, en bereik'n hand vir my, wat ek stadig neem. Nou staan ek stof myself af met my goeie hand, losweg hou my rugsak as ek wag op haar vrae.

Al wat sy doen is, skynbaar skud haar kop na haarself, voor beduie vir my om haar te volg. Sy lei my terug na die skool, nooit praat of loer na my, net staar vorentoe, byna emptily. Sy neem my na die mediese kamer en vertel my om te wag by die deur as sy loop weg om te gesels met'n verpleegster. Ek wonder wat sy sê, het sy vermoed dat my stap-pa het hierdie beserings? Of dink sy nog'n student het dit gedoen vir my? Moet ek net hardloop terwyl ek nog steeds die kans? My gedagtes is skielik gestop as beide Mev Monroe en die suster loop oor na my, my senuweeagtigheid skop in op'n ander persoon nou teenwoordig.

Ek probeer om nie aandag te gee aan die flare-ups van pyn as die suster toegedraai my pols in'n ys-sak, die ysige koue maak my bewe as die weer buite was reeds koud. Na'n paar minute van die versiersuiker my pols sy bring'n kompressie verband, snoesige wikkel my pols en hand, die pyn verminder nie, maar handhaaf'n bestendige pyn wat rondom my hele arm. Toe sy klaar sy gee my instruksies om te doen elke dag, en'n nota vir die klas om te sien as dit was my die skryf van die hand.

Loop oor na die deur, ek spot Mev Monroe wag daar, haar vriendelike glimlag vervang deur'n ernstige en streng kyk, een wat maak my voetstappe'n bietjie meer huiwerig. Ons verlaat die med kamer, en loop uit in die stil, verlate gang, haar gesig nog steeds ernstig as ons beide stop.

"Hoe het jy daardie besering Archer."Dit was nie'n vraag nie, maar iets wat aangedring het op'n antwoord, die een wat ek was baie huiwerig om te gee. Hengel my gesig weg van haar ek skud my kop " nee " weer, wil nie om haar te vertel die waarheid, my gedagtes blêrende dat dit sou lei tot meer pyn as goed, dat selfs indien sy het glo my, niemand anders sou.

"Archer, as jy nie vertel my, dan sal ek om jou te vertel die kantoor te bel jou pa."Sê sy, haar stem verloor sommige van dit is streng as sy pogings om my te kry om te antwoord.

Hoor haar bel Alec my pa veroorsaak dat al hierdie gevoelens om net ontplof, my woede vloei vrylik, en ek kan nie help nie, maar reageer chaoties, "HY IS NIE MY PA!"My skree echos af in die gang, die stilte het in sy wakker is ongemaklik, al die woede-gedrewe vertroue vinnig laat my lyf as ek uitasem. Sy is nie dom nie, sy gaan om uit te vind wat gaan aan, ek sal geneem word weg van my huis, die laaste plek wat herinner my van die ma en my suster.

Haar houding blyk te versterk na die aanhoor van my reaksie, ek kan net hoop sy sal nie kwaad wees saam met my uitbarsting.

"Ek is net gaan om te vra jy een meer tyd. Wat het dit gedoen."Haar stem was doodse stilte, die tweede sin om hard uiteengesit en laat geen ruimte vir verskonings. Ek het uiteindelik die gesig van haar, maar my kop is nog steeds verlaag, my oë flikker tot haar elke so dikwels as wat ek dink wat ek gaan sê.

"....Alec."My stem feitlik'n fluister, alhoewel ek weet sy het dit gehoor, en die wete dat iemand anders is bewus van hierdie geheim nie net veroorsaak dat my om te voel... kwesbaar.

Aaron Hotchner: First and Last Phone Call

Imagine being followed, so you call your brother (Aaron Hotchner), hoping he might save you:

Y/N's POV:

The walk to my dorm was taking me longer than usual, the recent injury to my leg was definitely not helping me.

The sun had long since set, and the darkness of the night had fully set in, my only light sources being the sparse lamp posts dotting along the sidewalk. The dark has always been a fear of mine, but my fear is reaching a whole new level right now. I'm injured, alone, and in a new environment; anything could happen to me. I keep my head up and on a swivel, turning at anything and everything.

I eventually calm down after a few minutes of excessive paranoia, instead finding comfort in the soft breeze, the leaves russling under the trees, and gazing at the orange glow of the lamps against the dark blue sky, it's actually quite calming.

Rain lightly begins to sprinkle from above, something that I embrace as I love rainy weather. Of course my clothes and bag are getting wet, but I don't care.

I almost miss the quiet scuffle behind me, the sound of light footsteps against the wet sidewalk. I turn around quickly, but I see nothing. Turning back around, I shake my head, thinking I'm being paranoid again. I continue my slow walk, my dorm is still several minutes away.

After another few moments of walking, the light scuffle is heard again, this time I immediately turn around, once again seeing nothing behind me. I glare at my surroundings harshly, I'm about to continue my trek when something catches my attention.

Along the sidewalk is a dirt area with bushes and trees, large oaks that are spread every 7 feet along the sidewalk. Nothing about that is odd, but carefully surveying the tree, I noticed the rubber toe of a shoe, it reminds me of the thick rubber sole of Vans.

My breathing feels harder, an eerie sense of understanding floods through my body. I don't have my pepper spray or any of my knives on me, I made the stupid decision that a philosophy textbooks was more important. I'm wearing my Ariat leather books, good for walking and work, but not so amazing when it comes to having to outrun somebody.

My brain is turning with thoughts of what to do, but the first thing I know I must do is turn back around and start walking as if nothing is wrong; this may seem stupid, but I can't let this person know that I've spotted them. I force my breaths to be even, and I grasp my bag loosely to my side.

Continuing to walk was very hard, especially when you know somebody is following you, and you have no idea what their intentions are.

Grasping my bag, I swiftly undo its buckles, taking care not to look like I'm rushing. Rain drips down my skin as I pull my phone out of my bag, looking closely, I notice the slight tremble in my hands and the burning of my eyes. Clicking on the only contact I can think of, I hold the phone tightly to my ear.

———————

Aaron Hotchner's POV:

I hear my phone ringing, it causes the conference room to fall silent, all eyes going to me. Sheepishly reaching into my coat pocket, I glance at the name and know it must be important.

"What is it Aaron?" Rossi questions, clearly seeing the confusion in my eyes.

"It's my sister?" My voice is deep and raspy, I haven't spoken to her since I left home, and she has never reached out to me. I don't know why she's calling, but I know I need to answer it.

"Continue without me, give me the summary on the jet." Is all I say before pushing out of my chair and exiting the room, leaving it full of confused and concerned profilers.

———

"....Y/N?" I listen closely, hearing the slight pattering of rain through the line.

"...Hey Aaron." Her voice is tight, it only increases my concern.

"Why are you calling?" My question can't help but be asked, my personality doesn't allow for the polite bullshitting, instead wanting to get straight to the point.

"I'm doing great, heading to my dorm right now actually, I know you're waiting for me." Her response is confusing, we haven't kept in contact at all, and I didn't even know she was in university. Something starts to scratch in the back of my mind, this conversation feels off.

"What are you talking about? Why did you call me?" My question is overflowing with the need for an answer, my voice lowering so that prying ears can't hear.

"Yah, I did go down to California for spring break. The horse races were crazy!" With this sentence my thoughts still. When Y/N was just a little girl, I taught her certain phrases to say when something is happening to her; and this was one of the scariest scenarios:

She was being actively followed.

My breathing gets heavier, and my heart feels like it's ramming against my rib cage. I grip my phone so tight it feels like I might crush it. Thinking quickly, I stride out of my office and back into the conference room, JJ falls silent as they all look at me.

Motioning for everyone to stay quiet, I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on silent.

"I'm with my team Y/N, tell me where you are."

"...I'm walking to (university name), I was just in town, but I'm currently passing some gas station. I should only be about 10 minutes away, so I'll meet you there." I can hear her straining to keep a normal pitch and her breaths becoming faster, alerting me that she is worried. I point at Garcia, her eyes lighting up with understanding as she begins typing away on her computer.

By now, everyone looks confused and worried, but all are in work mode.

"Y/N, you need to get into a building, I don't care which one, you just need to find other people. NOW." My voice is harsh, and I know it's not helping the situation, but I need her to be safe.

———————

Y/N's POV:

He's almost shouting at me, but I know he's just worried, I can hear the almost inaudible waver in his voice. The tears are freely falling now, I've already passed the last building between town and my university.

The footsteps behind me speed up, it seems they noticed my predicament as well, they are going to do something to me, and there is nothing I can do. I speed up as well, wanting to be able to explain everything to Aaron.

"Aar.. A-Aaron...I-I'm sorry." I can't stop my voice from stuttering, sobs now mixing with my talking.

"I'm sorry I said I hated you. I was angry at myself, not you" My words drip with emotion, the guilt that flows through me is almost as painful as knowing I'm about to die.

"Y/N-" He tries to speak, but I interrupt him as I know I have little time.

"I'm sorry that your last memory of me will be over the phone, please forgive m-" My apologies are cut short, my phone being smacked to the ground. I try to face my attacker, but a punch to the face causes me to take a detour to the floor.

The rough asphalt rips into the flesh of my hands, it burns, but not as much as the kick I receive to the gut. I scream in pain, hoping someone will hear, but knowing deep down that no one will.

The person jumps on top of me, their weight forcing my already empty lungs to collapse even further, I feel like I'm gasping, but no air enters. Everything is blurry, and wet, it's all so disorienting.

Two large hands wrap around my throat, the pressure quickly increasing; I try to fight, feebly punching him with my weakening limbs.

I feel heavy, my head foggy, I kind of just want to close my eyes and sleep. As my eyelids droop closed, the last memory I have is of a blurry warm light from a lamp post a little ways away.

———————

Aaron Hotchner's POV:

After the screams and scuffle end, all we hear through the phone is silence, someone(I assume the attacker) picks up the phone, and ends the call after another few seconds. Sadness is surging through my body, I already know tears are dripping down my cheeks, but even through all my sorrow, I remain silent.

Everyone looks uncomfortable, looks of fear, anger, shock, and concern mingling in all of their expressions. JJ is about to say something when Garcia comes bustling through the door, she looks just as depressed as I feel.

"Sir, I know where she is."