Layla.
Layla - part two.
“Oh no. no. no. no! This is not happening.” I said to myself, brushing the hair out of my face with my fingers.
Carissa was a loud neighbor, but she was sweet, none-the-less. She just made a mistake and hooked up with the highschool jerk...Who ended up being more of jerk because he killed her, I guess.
“Oh God...” I was panicing. I couldn’t help it. Because of the fever, I forgot to take my anxiety pills like I did every morning, before I took my shower.
I scanned the room for a phone of any kind, and finally noticed one next to the baby’s crib.
I was nearly hyperventilating from the stress of the situation.
To get to the crib, I would have to step over Carissa’s body.
I looked up towards the ceiling, trying to stop my tears from coming out.
“It’s okay, Elle, its just a dead body covered in blood and I’m in the killer’s appartment. No big deal.” I said looking over to Carissa’s corpse.
“Ugh. Who am I kidding? That wasn’t reassuring at all.”
I covered my mouth and nose to calm my breathing and carefully stepped over Carissa.
The whole time there, all the baby did was stare at me. I didn’t know why the thing wasn’t crying, that’s all it seemed to do, before.
I picked up the phone next to the crib, and quickly dialed 911.
“Hello, you’ve dialed 911. What is your emergency?” A deep male’s voice said into the phone.
I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, I am aware I dialed 911. That was dumb. I need to contact the police about a murder.”
“Please hold.” The man replied back in an emotionless tone, and happy elevator music began to play as I waited.
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” I said, sarcastically, letting the phone hang in my left hand.
The baby still stared up at me, seeming to wait for my next move.
Then, it smiled.
I’d never seen something so innocent before.
I smiled back.
“What’s your name, kid?” I asked lowering myself to its level. It smiled even bigger, the closer I got to its face. I could help but to laugh.
“You’re cute. I’ll give you that much.”
I then looked up to see on the inside of the crib, a small pillow laying in the corner embroirded “Layla.”
“Layla...” I repeated to myself and the baby nearly jumped up with excitement at the mention of her name. “I like it.”
“Hello?” I heard someone say faintly, and I realized it was coming from the phone line.
“Oh, hello.” I answered, putting the phone against my ear.
“What is your emergency, mam?” A woman questioned.
“It’s miss, and I’m reporting a murder.”
“Where are you, MISS?” She answered, putting an emphasis on “miss.”
I laughed at her bitterness. “Um...an appartment building complex in manhattan, called “Lesley Heights.” It’s in room 218.”
“Do you live there, MISS?”
“No, I live in the room below them.”
“Well, thank you. We will send someone over, right away.” She said beginning to hang up.
“Wait!” I yelled into the phone, hoping she hadn’t hung up just yet.
“Yes?” She nearly whispered.
“Well...” I began, scratching the back of head. “They left a baby, here. Should I bring her back to my room until you come?”
“That would be wise, miss.” She answered.
“Thank you, good bye.” I said quietly, my eyes never leaving Layla.
The other line clicked, and I assumed she hung up, finally.
“Well, Layla.” I began, sitting down the phone. “Looks like you’ll be with me tonight.”
Layla just giggled as I picked her up and began to carry her back down to my room. Something about her made me want to keep her safe. I wasn’t sure if her father would come back or not.
Making my way down the stairs wasn’t easy under so much medication, especially when carrying an infant. But I managed.
Layla laughed everytime I nearly fell over like it was some kind of ride.
I remember wishing I was as young as her and I could laugh in any situation like this.
But then, I realized I was laughing...at Layla.
It had been awhile since laughter escaped those lips.
Carissa was a loud neighbor, but she was sweet, none-the-less. She just made a mistake and hooked up with the highschool jerk...Who ended up being more of jerk because he killed her, I guess.
“Oh God...” I was panicing. I couldn’t help it. Because of the fever, I forgot to take my anxiety pills like I did every morning, before I took my shower.
I scanned the room for a phone of any kind, and finally noticed one next to the baby’s crib.
I was nearly hyperventilating from the stress of the situation.
To get to the crib, I would have to step over Carissa’s body.
I looked up towards the ceiling, trying to stop my tears from coming out.
“It’s okay, Elle, its just a dead body covered in blood and I’m in the killer’s appartment. No big deal.” I said looking over to Carissa’s corpse.
“Ugh. Who am I kidding? That wasn’t reassuring at all.”
I covered my mouth and nose to calm my breathing and carefully stepped over Carissa.
The whole time there, all the baby did was stare at me. I didn’t know why the thing wasn’t crying, that’s all it seemed to do, before.
I picked up the phone next to the crib, and quickly dialed 911.
“Hello, you’ve dialed 911. What is your emergency?” A deep male’s voice said into the phone.
I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, I am aware I dialed 911. That was dumb. I need to contact the police about a murder.”
“Please hold.” The man replied back in an emotionless tone, and happy elevator music began to play as I waited.
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” I said, sarcastically, letting the phone hang in my left hand.
The baby still stared up at me, seeming to wait for my next move.
Then, it smiled.
I’d never seen something so innocent before.
I smiled back.
“What’s your name, kid?” I asked lowering myself to its level. It smiled even bigger, the closer I got to its face. I could help but to laugh.
“You’re cute. I’ll give you that much.”
I then looked up to see on the inside of the crib, a small pillow laying in the corner embroirded “Layla.”
“Layla...” I repeated to myself and the baby nearly jumped up with excitement at the mention of her name. “I like it.”
“Hello?” I heard someone say faintly, and I realized it was coming from the phone line.
“Oh, hello.” I answered, putting the phone against my ear.
“What is your emergency, mam?” A woman questioned.
“It’s miss, and I’m reporting a murder.”
“Where are you, MISS?” She answered, putting an emphasis on “miss.”
I laughed at her bitterness. “Um...an appartment building complex in manhattan, called “Lesley Heights.” It’s in room 218.”
“Do you live there, MISS?”
“No, I live in the room below them.”
“Well, thank you. We will send someone over, right away.” She said beginning to hang up.
“Wait!” I yelled into the phone, hoping she hadn’t hung up just yet.
“Yes?” She nearly whispered.
“Well...” I began, scratching the back of head. “They left a baby, here. Should I bring her back to my room until you come?”
“That would be wise, miss.” She answered.
“Thank you, good bye.” I said quietly, my eyes never leaving Layla.
The other line clicked, and I assumed she hung up, finally.
“Well, Layla.” I began, sitting down the phone. “Looks like you’ll be with me tonight.”
Layla just giggled as I picked her up and began to carry her back down to my room. Something about her made me want to keep her safe. I wasn’t sure if her father would come back or not.
Making my way down the stairs wasn’t easy under so much medication, especially when carrying an infant. But I managed.
Layla laughed everytime I nearly fell over like it was some kind of ride.
I remember wishing I was as young as her and I could laugh in any situation like this.
But then, I realized I was laughing...at Layla.
It had been awhile since laughter escaped those lips.