Suits and Prostitutes.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 4 (v.1)

Submitted: July 11, 2011

Reads: 72

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Submitted: July 11, 2011



When I woke up, it was to the strong scent of coffee. As well as tabaco. At the moment, I was still a little out of it, so I didn't try to find the source of it. For now, I just stared at the blinding light above me. Eventually, I felt like I was going blind so I turned my head over. Beside me, I saw a machine sitting there. 'What is that?' I thought to myself, until it finally clicked it.

It's an embalming machine! Which only means one thing, I'm laying on the embalming table. With that realization, I jumped up from the table screaming in a panic. "Dead people have been on that!" I whispered to myself, as I hunched over resting my hands on my knees. When I stood back up right, I saw Oliver there, with a cup of coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other. "Dead people have been on that!" I now shouted at Oliver, who seemed all calm and collected.

Oliver jabbed the cigarette into the crystal ash-tray that was next to him on a chrome table. Was I even going to get a response from him?! "Be quiet, the ceremony is going on upstairs. You'll ruin it with that voice of yours," Oliver said coldly. Excuse me? My eyes just followed him as he walked right passed me. But it than hit me, this is the man who's responsible for the disapearances of my friends.

What am I actually supposed to ask? But if I don't do it, I'll never know. "Where are my friends?" I asked Oliver expecting a response right away. Oliver stopped in the door way, looking over his shoulder at me. For a few minutes, there was an awkward silence. "Where's Hellehna?" I asked in a low voice, waiting for him to say something.

Oliver sighed, and turned to face me. "Now I know where I've seen you before," Oliver muttered as he leaned up against the door frame. "As for Hellehna, the pretty red head. I cannot tell you where she is. Or any of the other females," Oliver told me which caused a bundle of rage to build up inside of me.

Oliver turned to walk away again, but I was going to be stubborn. I began following him out of the embalming room, and followed him up the stairs. "Where is my friend!?" I asked him again, with more anger in my voice this time. "I've been suffering for the past week trying to find her!" I told him, with tears threatening to slip out of my eyes.

Of course, there was no surprise from Oliver now. Why wont he tell me where me friends are? I need them back in my life. "I'm not going to tell you," Oliver said in a whisper as the doors to the chapel opened up. "Now go home, and stay off the streets," Oliver told me before walking away.

There's no way I was just going to leave yet! "I'm saying good-bye to my mother first," I said pushing past him, and everyone that walked out. Matthew stopped in his tracks as he noticed me walking passed him. I made my way up to the casket. "You're so beautiful mother. Even though you were put in the hands of the devil. I love you so much, say hi to poppa," I whispered as the tears finally slipped. This whole week, I've bottled up so many emotions. But now they were all flowing out.

Matthew walked up to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. "Let's go home sweetheart," Matthew said as he led me away from the casket. All my eyeliner was flowing into my eyes, which was burning like crazy. But that wasn't even bothering me. It was the fact Oliver wouldn't let me know where my friends are, as well as that my mother is now gone for good.

As Matthew and I headed out of the funeral home, I stared at Oliver on my way passed. "You'll never find them," Oliver lipped out with a smirk. My jaw dropped, and my eyes widened. You have got to be kidding me! I will find my friends, no matter how long it takes!

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