I'll follow you

I sat on my side of the bed with my hair in braids wearing a black and green corset and tutu with a belt around my right thigh, reading a book. I know what you’re thinking, but I think we’ve established the fact that I’m a skank, and I was planning to seduce October tonight (it’s harder than it seems, and no not like that, you just have a dirty mind) and if that meant dressing like a skank I was all in.

I took another twizzler and bit it off as my phone rang and flashed ‘Sussmen.’

“What up, Seuss?”

“Hello Francis, have you heard of something called a Julliard?”

“As in the elitist music school that was in New York and was bombed 5 years ago?”

“Possibly, there’s currently a female robotic like thing with it tattooed on her foot in my morgue.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of these things, 7 years ago they started a project to make a robot that could go out and be normal but improve the world and shit. The only one that hasn’t malfunctioned was the recent set, the Julliards, named for their elite ness. But they only look 4 years old, how old is she?”

“She appears to be in her mid to late 30’s.” He stated solemnly.

“Hhhmmm, you want me down there?”

“If you would be so kind, and do hurry, it seems to be ovulating.”

I choked on my own spit. “Excuse me?”

“You know very well what I said.”

“Kay, I’ll be down there faster than you can spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” I said excitedly as I fell out of bed, startling Griffen. “Sorry, Griff!” I called as I rushed into the closet and pulled on some high tops, not bothering to change. I shot through the door out into our room then through the one to the living room then through the doorway to the kitchen.

I wrote ‘ROBOT’S OVULATING! MUST IMPREGERNATE THEM!’ on the white board and then grabbed my coat and purse and rushed out the door into the hall. I just barely missed the door next to the elevator and began hitting the down button repeatedly until it dinged and the doors opened. I shuffled in with complete disregard as to which way it was going.

I then began abusing the button marked ‘L’ on the panel. That is until the elder man standing next to me grabbed my wrist.
“You’re one of them!” I announced, horrified with insanity written on my face. He jumped back as if I had the black plague and I resumed pressing the ‘L’ button over and over and over again. As we arrived at the lobby I got off and went straight through the lobby out to the streets where I decided against getting a taxi, and just ran the blocks.

I opted out of going through the revolving door, due to my fear of them. I then went through the typical routine all the way down to going into my forensics office, which is when it occurred to me that I was going to the morgue, not my office. The automatic doors swooshed open and I slid into the morgue and nearly into a slab. All heads turned to me.

“Ah, about time, Francis.” Seuss said, not looking up.

“Nice, uh, outfit.” Walker nodded to my attire. Walker was the morgue attendant and worked under Seuss. He was altogether pretty sweet.

“Thank you Doctor Walker.” I answered confidently.
_____________________________________________________________________

I exhaustedly walked out of the elevator to our door all the way down the hall, remembering that October had a cast party tonight and probably wouldn’t be home until late. I sighed as I shuffled through my pockets and found my keys. I picked out the one marked ‘BOTTOM’ and shoved it in the knob and turned it clockwise. I then looked through the key ring and found the one with the words ‘TOP’ printed on it. I lazily pushed it into the deadbolt on top and turned it until I heard the two clicks.

I dragged myself through the doorway only to stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me. There on the couch sat a man, early 30’s with black hair and clothes to match, his face as pale as the couch, watching TV. He looked at me and smiled.

“Nicky, long time no see!” He was acting as if we actually got along at all. The door shut behind me and I just stared at him, dumbfounded. Finally I got my shit together.

“Francis.”

“What?” He asked as if he didn’t hear me.

“What the hell are you doing here, I thought I got rid of you long ago?” I spat.

“Well, obviously you need me, I don’t just show up for no reason!”

“I don’t need you, go home, where ever the fuck home is.” I picked up my shopping bags and carried them into the kitchen. I then began to unload them into the fridge, trying to ignore the man in my living room. Once I was done I pulled out the glass container of the cranberry juice, then turned around to get a glass.

He had magically snuck up on me and smirked down at me as I dropped the cranberry juice out of fright and it hit the floor and smashed, spilling juice everywhere.

“You changed the subject, what did you say your name was?” He asked, cupping his hand over his ear for emphasis.

“Francis. Francis Sean Munez.” I growled.

“Oh, changed our name, did we?” He somewhat mocked, waving his hands. “Thought your past wouldn’t find you?” And that was it. I snapped. I went to punch his head, but it went right through him. Then he was gone. I tore through the apartment, our room, bathroom, closet, then for a second I thought I had won against myself, but no. I hadn’t checked the balcony.

I bolted through the sliding doors and looked to my right to see him precariously perched on the railing. He looked at me and smirked, then looked down.

“Have you ever thought about it?” He asked, seriously. “Ever thought of just jumping off?”

“You asshole, I am perfectly happy with my life, my only problem is you!” I shouted at him. He hopped off the railing and down to the street below. I jumped to the railing and looked down. He wasn’t there. Then he wrapped his arms around my middle. I stood still.

“Don’t lie to me, darling.” He whispered in my ear and left in the air. I then stood there a minute, only to run back into the living room. He was slowly playing the keyboard, as if remembering the song.

“Look, May, you’ll leave now, you got that? I don’t need you here, get out! Now!” Suddenly, as he quickened his pace, I realized what song he was playing. It was the same song I would play when I was hurt, scared or angry. I slowly made my way over there and began to hit the same keys.

“I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don’t really care for music, do you?” I sung along. I hadn’t heard her open or close the door, or walk in, I had only acknowledged her when she spook halfway though the song.

“Why are you playing Hallelujah in sexy clothes at 3 in the morning?”