Joseph was quick, but the mysterious figure was quicker.
Joseph had clenched tight on the running figure's cloak as they- Joseph had no idea how in this pretty normal world- leapt up and nimbly climbed over the wall to the top of the building, causing the cloak to rip and the remainder left in his hands as the cloak wearer disappeared and all Joseph could do was stare back at the blank sky as it mocked him.
Joseph cursed under his breath, stomping his foot hard, filling up with more resentment for the unknown figure as the moments went on. He started walking back towards the crime scene- jogging to be exact since he had carelessly dropped his bag and the Gentlemen's jacket. Soon enough, he was running as things started to become much worse the more he thought about it. And those were:
1)It was raining.
2)He was drenched and wet,
3)The cold was finally stabbing his lungs,
4)If he was wet that meant his bag and the gentleman's jacket were soaked as well,
5)And he had carelessly left them out on the wet pavement,
6)Out in open, where they could get wet and all his month's efforts of notes drowning with them.
Maybe the small things you leave behind must not be forgotten as you recklessly make decisions as every protagonist of a movie. Every decision comes with its consequence.
Joseph leaned at the wall which lead the open way back to the main road he was taking and wheezed for air, finding it harder to do so as his lungs ached with every inhale he took. He aggressively zipped up his fleece jacket as it finally slid up. He clenched hard on his stomach as he groaned, feeling the food he had eaten churn, making him nauseous. He shouldn't have overeaten.
He looked in the direction where he had remembered he had left his bag and jacket, which was right near the entrance of the alleyway he had taken while chasing the person. Thankfully, they were still there. Not thankfully, the bottom of the bag was entirely wet. Joseph let out a short wheeze of disbelief as he cursed at himself a bit more and grabbed his bag to see how much damage he had caused it. The bottom was soaked but not enough for it to drip mercilessly, which was the only optimistic thing Joseph could think of.
Well, at least the jacket was fine. Joseph shrugged and placed the jacket under his arm, carefully sliding his bag behind him, hoping his bottom wouldn't get soaked in the process, which did as he walked. But now, he was too tired to think about it. Right now, he had to head back home and make sense of what he had seen.
Joseph stared at the cloth he had retrieved from the person he chased, which he had clenched so hard in his hand it almost ached to open, and he began analysing it. It had a velvet texture with seemingly darker hues of purple, and a suspicious scent of somewhat of lavender or sandalwood (he couldn't be sure) covered over rain dirt.
How did this figure know his name? His full name to be exact. He was sure he had never addressed his name that carelessly. Unless this person had gone through his school records or so- no, he was certain that wasn't the last name which was submitted. But that didn't conclude with the fact that they knew things almost no one knew but him. Something with him and him only. Only if they were close to him to that extent... Were they a stalker? And what were they doing on the other side where the body was located? Could they be behind these murders? But the way they leapt up to the building was impossible. Almost.... inhumane.
Were they human at all?
Perhaps his mind was seeing things. Perhaps what had happened this morning might have put an effect on him. Of course. That must be it. There was no way he could hear the mysterious person's voice so near to his ear while he was so far.
Then why did it all feel so real?
Joseph shoved the cloth deep in his pocket, seeing his apartment in view, getting more frustrated as the questions kept tumbling over another, along with the biggest question: How long was this "stalker" following him?
Maybe...he could change his mind and go back home.
But was that place even his home?
Joseph skipped one stair as he climbed his way to his floor, his breath worsening, his stomach sluggish from running too much whilst it was full, making him feel worse than he already did. He groaned as he grabbed his stomach, scolding himself by mumbling whatever was forming in his mouth.
'First, you eat too much,' he whispered to his stomach, ' Then you decide to take the long route back. And then you decide to enjoy a wonderful time in the rain, and then run a full whole marathon at someone who could be a stalker or a killer or nothing or maybe all three while carelessly leaving your bag with the jacket and you don't even own that jacket you Jacka-'
'Fancy seeing you here,'
Joseph jerked his head and saw now a frequent face staring at him from the door of the entrance of the fourth floor, holding a brown goodie bag in her hand, giving a thin but amused smile dancing on her thin lips. Joseph nervously smiled back, feeling redness crawl up his face.
'You heard all of that, didn't you?' he asked. Layla gave a short nod, to which joseph squeezed his eyes shut and nodded slowly, addressing all the embarrassment, with a bonus to his current position, which was his hand clenched on the railing with his left foot already on a skipped step and his right foot still left behind
'Why are you always there when I'm being embarrassing?' he breathed out as he not-so-effortlessly got up to the step before approaching Layla, and looked at her dead in the eyes 'Forget that ever happened,'
'Noted,' she replied, then scrutinised joseph's clothing, then him, 'You didn't have an umbrella on you?'
'What? Oh, no I didn't,' he responded, unzipping his jacket and started shaking it, in hopes for it to dry faster, ' I didn't know it would rain...why are you staring at me?'
He tried to follow her gaze which was towards his arm. Layla glanced at him and gave him a look of pure confusion. She shook her head as if she got out of a trance and turned.
'Come with me,' she ordered, already walking into the entrance
'What? No no, you don't have to I'm fine-'
'While being drenched from head to toe, with a runny nose and can barely run these few floors? Thought so. Come on now, we might have to make sure that your notes are not drenched like you,'
'Oh God, you're right. But ill do it on the way up...'
'You live on the fourteenth floor,'
'I'll then take the-'
'The elevator is still broken,'
'Well, I guess ill follow then,'
He mutely followed Layla towards her apartment room "912", which wasn't anything new. He had admittedly frequently taken stops at her room during those three months after the last breakdown he had.
---
He had laid there numbly for how long was it? Half an hour? A few minutes? It didn't matter how long but what was certain was that the smell of his puke was bringing him back to the present.
Joseph walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a mop, taking all the time he had in the world. Surely his phone was long gone, probably smashed somewhere, and he was not going to rush to find it. Nor was he going to think about anything else, probably for a long time. He started to wipe the floor carefully, trying to recollect his thoughts, and himself.
This wasn't something joseph wasn't unfamiliar with. He was well aware and fairly suspicious of the treatment he was facing all the time, but as soon as those questions would arise they were covered over the blankets of verbal appellations of assurance and hypocrisy. He knew it. He knew it all. But why did it still hurt? And why did it hurt so much now of all days? Why didn't it hurt when he lived there? When it was all in front of him? Why did he break down now?
Joseph rubbed his swollen eyes and started to mop harder as his lower lip trembled
'Don't cry you stupid piece of cry..baby!' he rubbed the mop harder as he emphasized each word he took, 'You're always crying! Why the hell are you always crying? Do you see other guys crying? They don't! Boys don't cry, you stupid coward!'
He threw the mop aside and went to get some cleaning spray when he heard a knock on his door
'Joseph are you there?'
Joseph was able to recognise that voice. It was Layla's
Frustrated and emotional all the same, Joseph grabbed an air freshener and sprayed it around, and proceeded to walk towards the door.
'Um-uh- coming,' he called then struggled to clear his throat as his voice was still trembling. He fixed his hair trying to keep them in place and wiped his dried-out tears, hoping he looked presentable. His shirt was crinkled and wet from cleaning up the drool, with a few drops on his jeans which he wasn't able to clean up. Another knock caused him to forget to look at the mirror and slowly peek out from the door.
'Yes?' he asked, making sure he had a reliable smile on his face. Layla seemed startled at the sudden appearance. Her white blouse was tucked in skin capris with a matching loose scarf and dark brown printed loafers and took a few steps back as if to scrutinise him whole, ready to swallow him. Joseph silently wished she stopped that.
'Are you alright?' she asked.
'Uhh yeah. I'm fine. What brings you here?' joseph smiled as he kept a straight face. Layla looked at him with suspicion.
'You look sick,'
Maybe he cried a bit too much.
'No..why would I be sick. It's barely cold,' he replied quickly. A bit too quickly. Layla continued to look at him sceptically. She scrunched her nose once more before giving him a face of more concern.
'Can...can I come in?' Layla stared him at cautiously and leaned forward, similar to how someone moves towards a puppy without wanting it to lash out
'Um...uh-' Joseph felt himself take a step back, stumbling on his words, quite unsure how to respond. But the last thing he wanted was someone invading his space. And Layla was doing exactly that
'No I am uh..kinda busy, cleaning up my mess,' he instantly blocked the entrance once more, startling Layla to take a step back, but the stare remained.
'...you sure?' she prodded, which agitated joseph even more
'Yes. you came here for something?' he cut straightforwardly, with a rude tone under his voice, matching the slight furrow of his brows. Layla seem to register it but didn't rush to comment. Instead, she replied with
'I just wanted to check up on you. See if you're alright,'
Joseph felt as if someone hit him with a rock. As if the answer she gave was not supposed to be the answer he wanted.
'Che...check up on me?' he found a lump stuck in his throat and he choked out the words.
'Yes. I thought maybe you need assistance?'
This had to be a joke right? was this coincidence? Was it because of what happened to Jeremey?
Why did she want to help him?
The thought of it all seems to dwell him in more denial, making him angrier.
He could only help himself. No one else could. Because they never did
'No, no I'm fine you..you should go. Ok?' Joseph shook his head and immediately started closing the door. Layla looked at him in shock perhaps at his attitude but stepped back in defeat
'...Alright. Call me if you need anything,' she said once more.
'Will do. Bye-bye now,'
'Oh and..' Joseph looked at her, feeling more dreaded, wanting her to leave. She seemed to notice that and gave an apologetic smile. She reached out and gave him a bag 'This is for you,'
'What is this?' he asked, taking it and staring at it
'Just a small snack I baked. They're lemon cakes,' she said, remaining standing there as if waiting for a response. Joseph stared at the cakes for a while. But gratitude seemed to cloud over by the current denial
'Ah...um... thank you. Bye now,' he muttered and shut the door, louder than he wanted to. He didn't move from the door until he heard her steps slowly walking away. Joseph stared at the brown bag which was clutched hard in his now white hand. He opened it and saw a plastic box filled with small bites of lemon cakes. Joseph let out a scoff. Did everyone care? If he did tell someone they would surely tell him to get over it like his parents always did. To be a better man. It will be ok. It will be fine. Just apologies and prompts to move on. But that was what his family would always say. Was it going to be the same with others? With those who were reaching out to him instead of him begging? Was giving a second chance after his mother worth a shot?
Glancing at the little bag made him rethink it once more. Made him realise that he just shut the door which opened for him. That perhaps help was there but he was getting it from the wrong person.
'Shit,' Joseph turned around and opened the door to quickly see her figure about to take a turn to the elevator
'Uhh Layla?' she turned to the voice which belonged to the same boy she went to visit and was now walking towards her, looking at places 'Um...can..,'
Patient silence dawned, giving Joseph the time to say what he felt he needed. He took a deep breath and let it out, mustering the courage and asked
'Can you come in pls?'
Layla's posture relaxed and her crossed arms slid down and she smiled
'Does this mean that I'm welcomed?'
Joseph felt himself growing warmer of wanting to repeat himself
'Yeah...' he mumbled before clearing his throat and saying it louder 'Yeah you're welcomed,'
Layla opened her door the next day and saw a packed box with a tag reading 'thank you for the lemon cakes they were delicious! I'm not a great cook but thought of returning the favour'
And so this became almost a daily to a weekly thing. She would drop a small snack at her doorstep and he would do the same. At one point as Layla was placing the goodie bag at his doorstep, the door opened and Joseph peaked out smiling
'Thought of saying 'thank you' in person. What is it this time?' he leaned down to grab the bag from her
'I'll let you see it for yourself,' she shrugged and got up
'Will do. You headed for an academy or something?'
'I was about to go out for a walk if you're interested in that,'
'Yeah, that sounds better than studying,'
And hence that was their daily routine of leaving food at each other's doorstep and going out on frequent walks.
---
But he had never entered her apartment room
He could see a clear difference between his room and hers, and what stood out the most was cleanliness because her apartment room looked as if they had just entered to get a tour, which also indicated the temperature, as soon as entered he was greeted with a cold breeze. Layla hurriedly walked and turned on the lights.
'Sorry I don't use the heater much. Here, lemme turn it on for you,' she turned on the convertible and gestured for him to sit on the couch.
'I can tell,' he took the jacket which immediately was taken by Layla, 'Oh-uh thank you,'
'Let me get you some towels and spare clothes,' She walked into one of the rooms which looked more spiralled about than the flawless lounge. Joseph looked around the spotless place, trying to muster his awkwardness down.
I should ask her for some cleaning tips
'Were you headed somewhere?' he asked awkwardly, his voice echoing in the spacious lounge, perhaps even cracking in the process.
'Oh no it was the usual,' she called back from the room, 'I was going to search for my brother,'
Joseph nodded taking off his shoes, placing a mental note to clean them later and laughed, 'Again?' he asked
Layla let out a groan as she came out of the room and rolled her eyes, with towels and other types of clothing, 'Tell me about it. He leaves all the time. And I told him to come quick but he left his phone here,' she placed the pile in front of joseph on the coffee table, 'And judging by how you look, he's going to be the times worse,' she walked towards the open kitchen
'Go ahead to that room,' she motioned to the room she had entered and left the lights on, 'Dry up and change. I hope his clothes fit you,'
'Oh uh..thank you,' he muttered and quickly got up grabbing the pile and walked towards the room
The room gave life to the polished apartment, with the grey covers of the bed messed and undone. Clothes and books were spiralled and crowded on the floor and table with a black and beige-stripped school bag left empty. Posters of random areas and pictures of paperwork filled the noticeboard placed on top of the desk which was stacked with papers and a laptop cast aside
He might be a hardworking guy then
What about him? He was living off the courtesy of his parents as the bills for the apartment were done by his father as he owned it. The car was also given by them. He was living off of them. All for what? Doing what he was doing now. Things he wasn't proud of.
Joseph quickly took the wet clothes off of him and started drying his hair. Sad thoughts and emo mode later.
He didn't want to keep Layla waiting
He opened the room and walked towards where Layla was seated waiting for him, having a hot cup ready on the coffee table. Her attire was a grey-coloured shirt tucked in dark-coloured tight jeans which matched the cropped jacket and the white scarf set neatly on her.
'Does it fit?' she asked. As she saw joseph step out of the room in the rough black tie-dye sweater and open ripped jeans which sagged down. He held the jacket in one hand and his dirty pile of clothes in the other.
'It a bit loose but ill manage,' he smiled and eyed his clothes, 'where do I-,'
'Oh hand them to me. I'll return these to you when they're dry and cleaned up,' she got up and took them from him, ignoring his attempts saying its fine and he could do it
'What I want you to do is drink up the tea on the table before it gets cold,' she took the pile and started walking towards the corridor of the rooms. He walked towards the table and grabbed the warm tea. He took a sip. It was bland. He stirred it a bit and stared at the cloth he had taken out from his jacket before he gave it to Layla. Who was that person? Should he be scared? Should he report it?
'What is it?' he quickly turned and saw Layla walk and sit down, 'You look worried,'
'No not just..,' he thought about it some more. He should tell someone, shouldn't he? The last thing he wanted was something crawling behind him to attack him or so.
He already felt unsafe in this preyed world
'Well...' Layla leaned to meet his eyes. Joseph stared at her for a while. She was reliable. And helpful whenever he needed it. He could trust her...she would believe it right?
'I think I'm being stalked,'