Finding the serial killer

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Jake’s POV,

“You live when you pray for death.” The voice is mechanical, like made up, the number is suspicious and so are the intentions. Most of all of the reasons that I feel now, this is the last thing I want my mind at. It’s been years, almost forever, since I've felt something so right and it’s really turning into something like a joke.

“Who is this?” I ask but before I can ever get a concrete answer, the call came to an abrupt end. I call back to the number and it’s out of service. There are so many computer programs that can produce as many combinations of phone numbers as you want, and even let it be used like one, teenagers use this these days to amuse themselves. So, I know there is no way I'm going to waste time on something so minuscule.

“What the hell was that?” Emily squeal with her face still red and lips I bit plump. She scared me more than the call could really do. “Report him. report him right now.”

“Forget it, it must be a prank call.” I put back the phone in my pocket. Completely ignoring the look on her face. I just wanted the past two minutes out and the gap between us closed in. Should I kiss her once more? I moved up to do that but she put my hands flat on my chest. I look in her eyes and she doesn’t look like she wanted to stop.

“I think you should go home. You should spend time with your family.” I took a step back. I feel like I've made a big mistake, but I'm not sure how. I don’t want to know it either because if I do, this will be the only thing on my mind every time we’re together. If she wants to me forget it, I will.

“Do you really want me to go?” I sound disappointed in myself because I see her answer all over her body and her hands. It’s never happened that I kiss a girl and she don’t like it, or she wants to stops or she rejects me. But it’s happening right now, so I guess I must be losing my grove. It’s been seven years since my kiss meant something.

So, I left, as much as I want her, I respect her to do as he says without trying to change her mind. I let go. Knowing the face that I'll be right here tomorrow morning, right on her doorstep to pick her to work tomorrow. And suddenly I feel ashamed doing that.

I took her car home.

Mom and dad stayed, I'm convinced mom made dad stay the night here or he would’ve preferred a hotel suite, like Jerry does. They are one the same. I wouldn’t have mind if it was just about dad, but since it also includes mom, I love that she is stayed though I'm late enough to know that the two of them are already in bed, I'm just happy to be in a same home as them. I go to bed in silence. If I could wake up early enough tomorrow, I'll have time to spend with mom.

I go to bed and I dreamed of Emily. Emily from the time when I know nothing about her. We both were transferred here on the same day, we began working together on our first day. Though contrast to what anyone would’ve guessed, our first meeting wasn’t in the precinct, we met in the airport. She was my fellow passenger on my flight from New York, we sat stuck by each other for hours without even uttering a word. I never even saw her face. she was in an oversized hoodie covering most of her body even her long hair was tugged in. The first few minutes I thought she was the quiet type, but when the crew member asked if she was okay as she’s had her head down the whole time, I saw her eyes and something shifted in me. they were gorgeous. I remember seeing the wings drawn on her eyes with black liner, but her eyes were red, they were sad and I wanted to know what kind of person would make a girl so beautiful cry.

“Hi,” I collected all the tiny parts of strength I had in me to say the small word. I've been out of practice to interact with anyone who isn’t a part of my job.

She looked up at me not just with her eyes, but with every expression of interest she has in her face. “Hey.” Her voice was squeaky and uninterested.

And a thick cloud of silence took us over. Somehow when I saw her face, all the courage I had inside me left my body. I wanted to ask why she was crying? I wanted to know where she was from? She seems to be from someplace only good-looking people have a pass to get in. she seemed to have no idea how pretty she was. Gorgeous. This might be the only word I know that can describe her. Even when so much in my mind, I couldn’t ask her anything.

I had a playlist on my phone, a playlist with the happy song that I listen to when I want to forget about something that makes me sad. I plugged it on my phone and offered her one of my Airpod. She accepted. After listening to the entire playlist, she slept taking my shoulder as her pillow. I would say with utter assurance that flight was my life’s most uncomfortable but most fortunate.

We might have ended up making out on the seat if I were to put on some effortless. The s****l tension between two fellow passengers sometimes is high. They know they’ll never be seeing each other again and even if something unforeseen happens there is no room to worry about the embarrassment. But surely didn’t want our meeting to end that way. that was more the reason why I didn’t even try make small talks. I didn’t even ask her for her name or what made her cry even when every part of me wanted to. All she needed was a friend which I become for those few hours. I wanted to ask for her number, but I wondered if she was upset because of a guy and I might make it even worse. So I held it back. I hoped that if we were to have something more than a flight can offer, we will meet again. And I met her the next day.

**