Blood Rage

2

2. Strange Addiction

Jeremiah stretched his hand and went straight for the latch that was hidden by the corner of the box. The mirror had a hidden compartment fitted into the wall. The compartment wasn’t really hidden as saying it that way implied that the compartment was being hidden from someone. It was more a function of aesthetics than it served its functionality. The compartment was just enough to hold tiny things that had nowhere else to be. This one held normal pills, there was aspirin in case of a migraine, there were pills that took the pain away, pain relievers that numbed the body to a certain degree of pain. Those were tucked behind, as there was usually no case for that outside one or two accidents of moving across slippery floors with bare feet.

Jeremiah had caught himself thinking about it, simply smiled, and shook his head even as his hands went for the pill that had made him open the compartment in the first place. He grabbed the pill bottle and brought it out of the hidden compartment, He brought out the bottle, “I need to re-up this soon, can’t have us crazed over the weekend,” Jeremiah whispered to no one in particular not even to himself. He made his way through the child lock on the cap of the bottle and removed two pills from it; he placed the bottle back and placed the pills on his tongue. The pills were not so big that its presence disturbed; Jeremiah had theorized that its makers must have fashioned this into their designs when manufacturing so people who were averse to pills could also use them.

He placed the pills onto his tongue then folded his right palm into a parabolic form that was capable of keeping water on his hand instead of letting it pass through the cracks on his. Jeremiah could have used the cup he used to rinse his mouth early, but for some reason, he could not phantom, his hand seemed to be the better option of the two. Jeremiah swallowed the two pills and closed the cabinet in front of him, placing the mirror back in its place. Jeremiah then looked at himself, really looked at himself. “What am I doing?” He asked himself while his eyes were trained on the unnaturally lit reflection of his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked himself yet again. He opened the tap one last time and used the water to clean his face, not that he needed one as he had taken his bath before making the decision to focus on his oral hygiene.

He was out of the small bathroom before he had the chance to do any introspection of this reflection in it. He stood in front of the bathroom door, his head still bent to avoid gutting it on the header of the door. He stood there for a while and looked at the room from that position; his mind was still dangling and flirting with the chance of introspection. He knew where any form of introspection was going to lead. This was not the first time it was happening and he was already late, he did not need anything that was going to make him even later. That had been the excuse he used to trick his mind into letting him escape without answering the question that was in front of him; one that had been disturbing him for a while now.

Jeremiah moved back into the room just a step into it, flip-flop still on his legs. Jeremiah moved from under the doorway and looked up straight ahead while he planned his way around not just around the room but also the day that was ahead of him. Jeremiah moved to the wardrobe on the left side of the room where he knew he was going to find a well-steamed and pristine outfit for work, courtesy of his wife. This was how it always was; he brought out the cloth from the wardrobe and placed it on the bed. He removed the towel that covered his body and changed into the clothes that were now lying on his bed. He walked up to the side stool, opened the drawer, and brought out his ID. Slid it down the pocket of his and moved to the living room.

The living room was moderately sized, moderately, in this case, being just an offshoot of one big room that was partitioned into sections with thin walls, this was New York after all. Jeremiah passed where the TV was meant to be, moved past the couch, and moved over to his wife who was making breakfast in the kitchenette by the left side of the room.

“Why?” Jeremiah asked.

“Why what?” she replied with a smile on her face that implied she understood the message her husband was trying to pass across without needing clarification of any sort.

“Why do you insist on stressing yourself so much? Will you please tell me why?”

“If I do not do it? Who will?” She asked.

“Well I can do it now, can’t I?”

“That is rich, isn’t it?” You hardly got enough sleep yesterday and it shows. See how big your eyes are. They are so puffy; you could actually use them as pillows,”

This got a laugh from Jeremiah. “I am sorry,” he said. I was just so tired from yesterday. Where are the children? I did not see any of them in their rooms.”

Mrs. Jones looked at her husband while she moved the eggs around in the frypan. “Do you know what day of the week it is?”

Jeremiah looked lost, “it is Friday,” he replied.

“You still do not see it, do you?” She laughed the kind that was in between actual laughter and a smile that never left the confines of her lips. “Maybe you need to go to sleep more. They are at school,” Mrs. Jones replied. The apartment filled up with the noise of Jeremiah palming himself on the face. “You know what, maybe I should. It just slipped my mind that Darius and Ayden were meant to be at school by this time. I should really take you up on that offer of a nap.”

She moved over and dropped the plate on the table in front of him. “Maybe you can clear that with this,” she pointed to the scrambled eggs and toast that were in front of him.

“Maybe it will,” Jeremiah said as he picked up the fork and dug into the meal that his wife had prepared for him.

“What are you and Jackson working on right now?” His wife asked him.

Jeremiah knew that the question that Cherry had asked him had not been born out of a need to continue an idle chatter. It was curiosity and a gauge to measure how much danger he was getting himself into. Jeremiah had answered many questions like this from her in the past, so he could recognize it from a mile away. “Nothing, for now, you know how it is in these new times, a librarian or a historian can probably do our jobs. The crime we were working on, we found the culprit dead just on the steps of the building, that sort of thing usually happens in the cases that we work.

Thank you for the meal, I feel so much better now,” Jeremiah said to his wife.

“It feels so much better now that you realize that you have two sons who are in school right?” Cherry asked.

“Of course I know our twos sons are in school, I do… or do I?” Jeremiah joked.