The One Who Stole My Soul

Chapter 2 : Adjust and Adapt

I spent the next few days lying in bed and watching the ceiling. One day went by, another, and another. Uncle Mason said that I didn’t have to attend school right away if I didn’t want to. I don’t think I will ever want to go anywhere again. Flashbacks kept coming back to me of my parents the day before the shooting. Flashbacks of my hands covered in their blood and of their bodies. My white stained clothes were a vivid image that kept coming back to me as well. I didn’t cry though. I was sick of crying. My face simply stood frozen once again, facing the ceiling. Watching the fan. Counting the number of times, it would spin per hour. Now I was sitting down on the bed, against the wall. The silence was frightening to me. The last time I heard silence this loud was after the man shot my parents, when their bodies laid on the cold penthouse floor and in my arms. Right before the sirens started ringing. I looked straight up and noticed a large glass door that I didn’t notice the first time. How have I not noticed that door before? I slowly got off the bed and walked over to the door. I opened it a little and peaked inside, it was a bathroom. I opened the door fully and then walked in. The floor was made up of tiles the colors of gunmetal grey and the walls appeared like a white brick though it didn’t have the same texture of one. Instead it was smooth and glossy. The shower was fully glass with black frames and the sink was also framed with a type of metal though it didn’t have a door. It was the shape of a desk with a sink and a wooden board connected to it at the bottom from one end to another. On this wooden board were neatly stacked, white, clean towels. I almost forgot how nice it was to be clean. I’ve been laying on my new bed for the past few days. Above the sink was a large mirror framed with the same material as the shower and to the right of the sink was a plant. Behind me was a large glass door, identical to all the others, that led to a small contemporary closet with wooden shelves. All my clothes were hanging in this closet. When did Uncle Mason have the time to do all of this? I didn’t even see him leave. I stepped out of the closet and then took another look at the shower. I slowly began to undress myself then stepped in. The warm water flowed against my body down to the floor. For a few minutes I just stood there and in the longest time I felt clean. I then gently lathered up my long dark chocolate colored hair. It fell to my hips, completely straight. No tangles were in sight. When I stepped outside of the shower, I took one of the towels, wrapped it around me, then entered the closet. I put on my skinniest pair of high waisted jeans, they helped embrace my hourglass figure most, and then a white, long sleeve, cropped top. I then paired it with white sneakers. I applied mascara and then brushed out my bushy brows. Lastly, I straightened my hair perfectly so it could flow down to my hips like usual. I then put on accessories to finish off the look. I felt clean for the first time in the while and it felt nice. I looked at myself for a few minutes in the mirror and when I was ready, I headed downstairs. I needed a coffee. I ordered my usual, black coffee, and as I was taking out my card I heard a familiar voice, "sure beautiful. One black coffee coming right up. "I looked up and saw Eugene in a uniform. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed that you worked here”, I said.

“Really? and why is that”

I stared at him for a few minutes examining his uniform then replied with,

“You seem like the towns rich boy”

“Not at all. I spend hours a week working because someone in my house needs to pay the bills”, said Eugene

I didn’t get the chance to feel guilty for bringing it up because right after he said that I heard my name. The television was speaking it. I turned around to look at the T.V. and my smile quickly faded away. Pictures of the crime scene were being shown from every angle. It was like I was reliving it all over again.” Billionaire Niklaus White and his wife, Monika White, where apparently shot three days ago little after 2:00AM. According to our source, Tatum Zara White was the only one who survived.” Eugene quickly took the remote and turned it off. “One black coffee for Miss Tatum White”, he said. A small smile reappeared on my face as I said,” Thank you.”

I then headed out the door. I needed fresh air and it would also give me a chance to explore the town a bit. Before beginning to walk, I took a few deep breaths. I needed this. I then started to follow the side walk. I didn’t know where it was taking me, but I guess I would find out sooner or later. Unintentionally I came across a building with “Brooks” written in large letters. Curious as to what this building was, I walked inside. The walls had purple lights and fancy booths. If you kept on walking forward, you would come across a bar and to the left of the bar was an empty dance floor. This is a night club. Suddenly a voice came up from behind me,” The club doesn’t open until 8:00. Can I help you?” I turned around and saw an older man’s face. He had dirty blonde hair and not one was out of place. His eyes were a dark hazel color and he had a small beard. He wore a gray suit. From head to toe he looked very professional and intimidating. I was used to meeting men like this because my father owned a large company. As soon as I turned around his eyes widened, and I instantly could tell that he recognized me. His deep and raspy voice spoke, “Tatum White. I am so sorry for your loss. I was a close friend of your father’s.”