NaNoWriMo Day 22: 14,216 of 50,000
Busy bee me has gotten a little behind on her novel. However the ideas are just a flowing. To read previous chapters head HERE!
Here is chapter six and seven :)
Chapter 6
What does one do when their sense of safety and protection is suddenly ripped from them? How does one cope with the fact that every single item that surrounds them that once screamed “HOME!” is now screaming “ROBBED!”? I think about all of the people and families who have gone through home invasions and robberies and wonder how one can move forward? I want to be able to confidently say that I do not feel violated. I want to be able to at least walk to my flat’s building and go inside without panic rising inside of me. When I moved here I thought that my possibilities were endless, but now the possibilities do not seem…… possible. I want to run, gasping for air, leap across the wide Atlantic Ocean and crash safely into the arms of my parents. They were right, they are always right, and I should have listened.
I’ve been living with Ron for nearly a week now. The police call me everyday to tell me they have not had any new leads. I’ve crumbled in on myself and wish, more than anything, that I can just move forward. My parents were willing to pay whatever exorbitant amount of money was required to break my flat’s lease.
“No it’s ok. I’m just going to take it one day at a time,” I practically pleaded with them.
My dad, who normally is not one to get frustrated, visibly sighed over the FaceTime call. “Riley your mother and I do not take this incident lightly,” and in almost a whisper he begged, “please come home.”
I swallowed back the tears that had been threatening to spill over for days. “I love you both but I need to stay here. I promise, I’m ok.”
Either I was able to successfully convince the pair of them or they were just being nice because they changed the topic of conversation. They caught me up on their live in New York before we decided to say goodbye to each other.
“Honey,” my mom said as we finished our goodbyes, “please call if you hear anything new ok?”
I nodded and blew a kiss before hitting the red button to hang up. Once I put on my work clothes I left Ron a note telling him I was heading to work and I’d see him there and then I headed out.
As soon as I stepped off the elevator at work Rose was all over me, pulling me into a tight hug and whispering something incoherent in my ear. Once we pulled apart she became audible.
“Oh Riley I am so glad you are back and in one piece. Are you ok?” she urged as I stepped around the front desk taking a glance at the seating chart.
I nodded. “I’m alright, just glad to be back at work.”
When I turned to look at her worry lines crinkled her forehead. I wished for no sympathy from anyone on my journey to work but far be it from me to expect anything else. Despite how distant I was feeling from everyone but Ron, my co-workers were incredibly kind and caring individuals. Which meant that all night they were coming to check on me and make sure I wasn’t going to crumble in front of them. Somehow I managed to pull it together only starting to crack toward the end of my shift when Rose pulled me aside as I was talking with Ron.
“There’s an officer here for you,” she said timidly turning to look at the gentleman in the officer’s uniform near the front desk.
I gulped and it must’ve been a rather loud gulp because both Ron and Rose looked at me with concerned faces. I took a deep breath and made my way toward the officer.
“Evening Ms. Hamerson. I’m Officer Daniels,” he said outstretching his hand.
I shook it and waited patiently for him to continue.
“So I wanted to let you know we have located the suspect in the robbery investigation,” he began my eyes, “his name is Emiliano Regares. We caught him getting off a plane in Paris.”
The officer stopped and looked intently at me. Still reeling from the news that they located the culprit I was suddenly confused at the officer’s stare.
“What?” I couldn’t help myself, it was getting to the point where I was just plain creeped out.
“Is that name familiar to you?” he pushed and I gave myself a moment to think about it. Come on Riley think. Do you know and Emiliano? Emiliano… Emiliano… Emiliano. No I have no idea who this guy is and I wish I did because then this whole thing could be over in one second. “Ms. Hamerson?”
I shook my head wishing to be anything but distant. “No I’m sorry. The name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“No worries, just covering all bases. Have you found anything missing from your flat?” he continued.
I knew he was doing his job, but I was frozen and all I could feel over every inch of my body was panic. How do you tell the hardworking officer that you haven’t been back to your place since the whole thing happened? How do you look sane and put together when the thought of evening getting near your building sends you into a panic? I could sense the silence around us and knew I had to say something so I lied.
“No there is nothing missing,” I quickly mumbled.
He nodded his head placing his rather large hands on his waist. “Alright, well you have my card. Please call if you notice anything missing and we will keep you informed as the investigation moves forward.”
I just nodded still somewhat speechless. He waited a moment before turning and getting back on the elevator. I took several deep breaths trying so desperately to get my beating heart to slow down the rushing of my blood pushing its way through my eardrums. It took several minutes but eventually I was able to turn around and head back to the concerned Rose and Ron who were waiting expectantly for me.
“They um,” I swallowed feeling the full weight of what I was just about to say, “they found the guy who did it. His name is Emiliano.”
I held back the tears that had been continuously pushed down. Neither Ron nor Rose knew what to say and I didn’t blame them. How does one respond to hearing this kind of news? How was I supposed to respond? There’s no manual or handbook out there for dealing with being the victim of a home invasion.
“He was found getting off a plane in Paris,” I continued really wishing they would fill this awkward space.
“We’re getting chinese takeout and a bunch of beers,” Ron declared seconds later.
I couldn’t help the smirk that came across my face. Of all the crazy, terrible things going on in my life at the moment my friendship with Ron was the bright spot. It was why he was the first, and only, person I thought of when this whole crisis began. He didn’t even hesitate when I asked if I could live with him for a bit.
Once my shift ended we got our chinese take out and beers and posted up in front of the television watching EastEnders all night. In the morning I had a sudden surge of confidence and declared I was going to go back to my flat to make sure nothing was actually taken.
“Are you sure Rye bread?” Ron asked as I tied my converse.
“Yes sir I am,” I declared trying to convince him as much as myself.
He sighed dramatically always one to be making a point. “I’m coming with you.”
That stopped me. I stood up and stared at him. “What? No. You don’t need to come with me, I’m fine. Really I think I can handle this simple task. Honestly Ron.”
I wasn’t convincing anyone. My fast speech coupled with my hands wringing in front of me really made it clear how incredibly fragile I was right now.
I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. “Fine. You can come with me.”
Truth be told I was doing fine. I was walking toward the Tube, I got onto the Tube, I watched each of the stops go by and I was doing fine. It wasn’t until we turned the corner onto my street, the glimpse of my building coming into view, when my throat became constricted and my lungs suddenly went dry.
I didn’t realize it at first, but Ron had put his hands on my elbows and was guiding me toward the building. My fear rose as we walking closer and closer until I stopped abruptly just steps from the front entrance.
“Oh gosh I can’t do this. Why did I think I could do this? I can’t do this,” I said quickly looking frantically at Ron.
His face was calm and peaceful. “Come on Rye you can do this. One step at a time, right?”
I disagreed. How could I take one step at a time when the my next step would be walking in the building?
“Riley?” I heard a voice from above.
I walked out of Ron’s hold and stepped toward the street. When I looked up Ryan was hanging out of his window staring down at me with, dare I say it, a smile on his face.
“Ryan what are you doing?” I know things that may seem normal to others tend to be considered strange to only myself, but really this was not normal.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? Where have you been Riley? We’ve all been worried about you,” he explained urgently.
I sighed. “I have been um,” I paused trying to figure out how to tell my neighbor that I was temporarily living somewhere else, “um really busy with work so I’ve been staying with my friend Ron because he lives closer to the Hospital Club.”
“I what?” Ron said in a whisper.
I briefly turned to him and showed the panic on my face. He understood and nodded his head.
“Oh, well what are you doing outside? Come in!” he urged pulling his head back inside and shutting his window.
I rubbed my hands all over my face really wishing I had that surge of confidence flowing through me from this morning.
“I can’t do this Ron. I don’t want to talk to Ryan,” I said frantically.
“Why don’t you want to talk to Ryan?” he stepped closer to be gripping my right elbow and slowly steering me toward the door.
“There is something weird about him.”
“Weird? How so?” we were almost to the door and I tried with all of my might to focus on Ron and our conversation.
I sighed. These were thoughts I had been keeping inside of my noggin for a week and I wasn’t sure how these thoughts would sound once they came out of my mouth.
“Well for starters he was very rude to me when we first met, practically ignoring me everyday we went down in the elevator together. Then he came into my room after the incident happened asking what just occurred because he heard me screaming. Then as I am trying to clean up my flat he’s screaming my name and when I snap back at him because hello I am terrified and trying to put my flat back together he get’s upset and leaves. There’s just something about him that is,” I paused really trying to find the best word to describe him, “off.”
“Hm. Well I wanna get a feel for this chap then and we need to get you into your place, so let’s go.”
I hadn’t noticed we made it through the front doors until Ron reached for the elevator button. It dinged open and Ron slightly pushed me inside. As the number two lit up my throat felt like it was closing and if the doors didn’t open soon I was sure I would lose all the oxygen I had inside of me.
When the doors opened I sucked in the cold air allowing Ron to guide me toward my door. The door with those shiny gold numbers on the front taunting me. Showing me how strong and together they were in sharp contrast to how weak and vulnerable I was at the moment. When we reached the door I instinctively pulled my keys out my pants pocket and guided them to the lock.
I had managed to unlock the door but the next step seemed too difficult. I felt Ron’s eyes on me which only added to the panic surrounding me. Why was this so difficult? I was being absolutely ridiculous here. Riley you can open a door. Just put your hand on it and turn it. Simple as that. But no it isn’t that simple because this handle and this door are the only things separating me from the horrid memories just inches behind them. I wasn’t ready to look at my place. I wasn’t.
“Come on Rye you’re doing good,” I heard Ron say encouragingly.
I nodded, straightened my back and turned the handle letting the door swing open slowly. My clothes, the one’s that were thrown all over the floor, were still piled on my bed. The pieces of the broken lamp, the one’s I began picking up, were sitting on the small kitchen counter, and my futon was still tipped over onto my floor. The room was dark and cold and felt unwelcoming.
Despite myself I stepped inside and mindlessly began picking up things. It wasn’t until I got to the futon that I lost it. The tears I had been holding back for the past few days spilled over turning into sobs.
“Oh no Riley. It’s ok,” Ron said his arms quick to wind around me.
I side stepped him and rushed out into the hall gasping for air. “No Ron it’s not ok. The futon is still tipped over and the the- the clothes,” I gasped, “are still on my bed. I forgot to throw away the glass from the broken lamp and I just- I can’t do it.”
“Whoa hey what’s going on out here?” Ryan’s voice met me with half of his body hanging out of his door.
Not now Ryan. I cannot deal with your right now.
“Look mate just let Riley be ok? This is all really overwhelming for her right now,” Ron said softly with a hint of protectiveness in his tone.
“Are you serious? Why is Riley walking into her flat overwhelming for her?” he insisted clearly not going back into his place and shutting the door like I wished he would’ve.
“Ryan!” I shouted wishing I didn’t. “I can’t do this.”
I ran toward the staircase momentarily forgetting that this was the same escape route Emiliano took last week. When I got outside I fell onto my knees and continued sobbing. Ron was right, this was all overwhelming. Learning the name of the robber, trying to go back into my flat and seeing the mess that was still there, and having to deal with Ryan was completely, incredibly, undeniably overwhelming.
“Riley!” I heard Ron as he came to my side helping me stand up. “Come on let’s get back to my place.”
When we got back Ron helped me get into my bed on the couch and handed me a cup of tea moments later. I was thankful that he left me alone after that because really all I needed was to be left alone.
Chapter 7
I am still stuck. The charms and wonders of this city have diluted and everything just looks dull and gray. I wake up, drink my bitter coffee, and head off to work. It is strange not having a definite home. I do not consider my flat in Chelsea to be my flat or my home. As much as Ron feels like the closest thing to home, his couch should not be a permanent sleeping arrangement. When will my dignity return? When will this never-ending fear disappear? I work so hard everyday to try and picture Emiliano. This man who took so much from me in such a short amount of time. Emiliano. In and out of my room in less than three minutes. Emiliano. A man fleeing down my staircase in my building on my street in my neighborhood. Where do I go from here?
When I woke up on Friday morning that same surge of confidence went through me again. I had made it into my flat yesterday and today I was going not only go inside but actually clean up and look for lost items. It was nearly five in the morning so I quietly tied my shoes almost making it out the door when I decided I should tell Ron.
He was snoring loudly and part of me felt bad when I went to shake his shoulder but when he woke up I knew I was doing the right thing.
“Rye what time is it?” he asked sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“A little after 5.”
“What? Why are you up? Why am I up?” he asked throwing himself back down onto his bed.
“I’m going back to my flat,” I said my duffel almost falling off my shoulder.
“You’re what?” he asked sitting up straight again.
“I’m ready and I have overstayed my welcome anyway. Thank you.”
I didn’t say anymore as I turned and walked out. Ron didn’t follow me like I thought he did and as I approached my building I wished he had. Just like yesterday I wondered where the surge of confidence went as I made it onto my floor.
Again I was doing good, I had put my futon back in place, organized my desk, cleaned up the glass and was just getting to folding my clothes when flashes of that night hit me. The banging around in my room, the door slamming open, and the scream that left my mouth. I quickly left my room wanting to get away from my room and those images.
Fifteen minutes later I rushed into Ron’s place startling him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. I threw myself on the couch and began sobbing again.
“Whoa. What happened?” Ron asked sitting on the floor next to the couch.
“I thought I could do it. I thought I was going to be able to do it,” I picked my head up and looked at a worried Ron, “and I was doing it. I had picked up my room and I was almost done and then all of those memories came flooding back. The noises and my scream and I just… left.”
I sobbed again letting the fear take over my body.
“Hey slow down Rye. It’s ok. Don’t be so hard on yourself, you’re taking big steps.”
“No,” I sat up now really wanting to make my point, “No I am not taking big steps. I was supposed to be showing my parents how good of an idea it was to move here. I am supposed to be furthering my writing career and instead I am working as a hostess. I thought I was strong but instead I am so weak, so weak in fact that I can’t even go back to my own flat and face the truth of what happened. I am the definition of a disappointment-”
Ron stopped me by shaking my shoulder. “Stop it. You are not a disappointment. You know what you are? You are justifiably terrified. You had a man come into a place you thought you were safe and he took something from you. He took your safety and your comfort from you. But you are not a disappointment because Riley you put a giant middle finger in the face of uni and you moved over here with a passionate dream. You are driven and I see it everyday at the Hospital Club,” he paused to take a breath and make sure I was ok before continuing. “Look I don’t want to make this all about me because it shouldn’t be but Riley, before you came here I was utterly hopeless and alone. I was losing my ambition in photography and was considering moving back home and accepting defeat. Then you and I met and we talked and we became best friends and you have brought back this drive in me that has been missing for so long. I guess I’m saying this because you need to hear how strong and important you are. Do not let this Emiliano take this from you. Don’t let him win.”
My jaw fell open, I think, and a few tears rolled down my cheeks. I have had good friends in the past, but none like this. None who, after only a few months, was so honest and raw with me. Yes I knew I needed to get myself together, but Ron let me know that even when I doubted myself he never would. I jumped toward him and wrapped my arms around him a giggle escaping my lips.
“Thank you Ron Huntington. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
We pulled apart and he smiled softly. “Best friends?”
I nodded. “Best friends.”
Even after that much-needed pep talk I decided I really wasn’t ready to move back to my flat. At the end of the day Ron received a call and excitedly bounded back into the den.
“What’s going on?” I asked curious.
“I’m going home for the weekend,” he beamed.
Oh. Well great. “Great.” I tried to sound convincing but I really wasn’t even fooling myself.
“And you’re coming with me!” he added.
I sat up and looked at him. “I’m sorry I am what?”
“You’re coming with me to Manchester!” he exclaimed.
I raised my eyebrows slightly thrown off. “Are you sure?”
“Think about it. We can go to a ManU game, walk around downtown, and you can meet my crazy mom! Please Riley,” he said sensing my apprehension, “It’ll be good for you to, you know, get away from London for a couple of days. Right?”
He had a point. It would be nice to get some distance between this city and all that’s been going on. “Ok you got a deal.”
His face lit up. “Fantastic! We leave in the morning.”
And leave in the morning we did, super bright and early on the train north. I had to admit I was glad to see the city and its buildings disappear to give room to the open fields and trees of the English countryside. My mind was clearing with every mile put between me and London.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I said as we approached Manchester.
Ron smiled. “Absolutely Rye bread.”
