Chapter 1 #3
Instead, I content myself with tracking her as she moves, discovering her home address, perusing all her social media, most of her private messages, hacking near instantly into her email, and accessing every bit of data on her from her credit score to her dental records.
Best to be subtle about these sorts of things.
Ella
I shouldn’t have gone to the funeral. I should have stayed away, not drawn attention to myself. I’m sure they saw me. I shouldn’t have stared. I looked too hard. People have a sixth sense for when others are looking at them.
When they turned around I felt a bolt of energy going through me. I was almost physically jolted by it. The three of them had so much grief and menace in their gazes. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I felt as though they all stared right through me in that moment.
I left as quickly as I could, but the feeling of having brought some dark thing with me out of that grim cemetery has persisted even as I step into the shower.
Teddy deserved better, in every way. That was not a proper send-off for a man whose smile made my world brighter.
Usually women are given credit for lighting up rooms and such things, but Teddy truly did that.
Everywhere he went, his energy was effervescent.
Now he is gone and the world is fifty shades of beige.
The color seems to have gone out of everything.
I knew the interment was supposed to be private, and there was no official funeral.
Teddy often told me that his older brothers were obsessive, and I guess he was right.
It was no simple matter to find out when and where their little ceremony was going to take place, but I had to go. For him. For me. For my sins.
As hot water from the shower runs over my face and down my body, I feel oddly numb. This should be comforting. I should feel warm after being out in the chilly cold. But I don’t know if I will ever feel truly warm again. I don’t know that I deserve to, either.
The image of those three big men flashes back into my mind.
They dominated the entire cemetery. They seemed almost as large as giants.
The priest seemed almost incidental in his white robes turned greige with the rain and sort of blending in with the bad weather.
It was as though he was more part of the tableau of grief than a real person.
None of it seemed real, actually. Nothing has seemed properly real since Teddy passed.
That’s part of why I had to go. I had to know that it was real.
I had to confirm for my own mental health, or lack thereof, that I hadn’t imagined those horrors that took him.
So I was drawn to that grave, and even though I kept my distance, I was also drawn to those three men who must be in even more pain than I am.
They are the only ones who would understand me now, I think.
I almost went up to them and introduced myself, but then they turned around to look at me and I felt a chill go right through me. Something in my gut told me I needed to get away.
They didn’t come after me, but that hair-raised-on-the-back-of-my-neck feeling is still with me no matter how hot I turn the shower up.
Steam fills the room in that thick curling way it can only do on very cold days.
It’s eerie and unsettling. Are there eyes on me now?
A shiver passes through me at the thought.
I’m being paranoid, I tell myself. Nobody followed me.
Nobody who matters even knows I exist. I run through the events after I left the cemetery.
I walked for what felt like forever with no real destination in mind.
I just had to move. Block after block I slipped through the city, surrounded by life, and yet feeling drained of it myself.
When I tired myself out and started to become exhausted, I used my phone to grab a ride with a ride-share car that happened to be less than a minute away. My boss would have wanted me to have called one of his drivers, but I don’t want anything to do with him ever again.
The driver was a cool-looking guy who had red dyed hair.
I looked at him closely, just in case. I’ve been doing that lately, not wanting to trust anyone.
Not believing what my own eyes tell me. His car was pretty fancy, and he was dressed in a way that I could call timeless.
Not the way I dress. He was wearing ripped baggy jeans and a vest over a black graphic t-shirt.
He could have been in a 90s hacker movie, or an early two-thousands rave, or a twenty-ten…
you get the idea. It’s strange what becomes classic, and what just becomes dated.
I think back to what happened next. It’s already starting to fade.
It feels like I have to fight my brain for memory now.
I have a feeling something important took place, but I don’t know what, and it’s not coming to me.
It’s that horrible feeling, like when a word is on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t remember it.
I just sat back in that car and I did what I’m doing now, but in the shower.
I wondered what I’m going to do. I thought Ted and I were going to get married.
He hadn’t asked me, but our relationship was new and I was delusional enough to have planned it all out—without having told him a single detail, of course.
Ted had no idea what our future was going to be, but I did.
I’d already decided we’d have two boys and a girl.
The boys would be Clark and Kent. The girl would be April.
Ted would refuse to name his sons after Superman, but I planned to sneak it by him anyway.
Maybe name the first boy Ken, and then the second one Clark.
I have a thing for heroes. That’s what Ted seemed to me to be.
But that’s all over now. Those dreams were lowered into the ground today, and there’s nothing I can do to bring them back. There won’t be any justice for Ted. I know his brothers will try to find the killer, but all they’ll find is pain.
When I came home, my house didn’t feel like mine anymore.
It was that same weird floating feeling but projected onto the walls I decorated myself.
Did I ever really think ducks with little blue bows on their necks were cute?
Or did I just see it in an old magazine and let a curator from the nineties make that decision for me?
I get out of the shower, almost entirely wrinkled, and I wrap myself in a towel.
I know I should get dressed, but somewhere between my bathroom and the chest of drawers that is practically directly outside it, I get lost. I find myself wandering my apartment in aimless, small circles, cooling quickly from the shower.
This place does not seem like home anymore.
I don’t feel like home anymore. I feel like a stranger to myself.
I look around and I see places Ted once stood, things he touched, the picture of the silly frog that he laughed and laughed at.
He only came here once, but I can picture him here as clearly as if he’d lived here with me for a lifetime.
Tears fog my eyes as I finally pull on a pair of flannel pajamas, then go and sit in the yellow chair by the window, and stare out of it until it is time for bed.