Nearly There

AN: This is actually part of the first chapter. I just decided to break it up a little. As you will notice there\'s not much by way of sex in this chapter, but a story is unfolding. Also it\'s a bit long. So If you like, let me know and I will continue. If there something you think I should improve upon let me know also. Thanks.
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Thanks to the dream I couldn’t go back to sleep. My body still burning, craving the attention it was denied softly pleaded with me to quench the flames. Thinking to ignore the temptation I pressed my legs even tighter together. Big mistake. The pressure from my thighs sent little trills of pleasure racing from that secret region straight to my head. Unable to help it I squeezed again eliciting a greater sensation. Fighting to keep my left hand from traveling down I rolled on it. What I saw across the room brought me back to my senses. My roommate’s softly breathing form reminded me of where I was, St. Allerius Catholic school.

Not one for voyeurism (even if the person supposedly watching was asleep) I put my desires on hold. A bit more clear headed my mind wondered back to the details of the dream. Something about it nagged me. It was like déjà vu, the scene seemed very familiar. Not in the mood to dwell on the idea, I attributed it to the possibility of dreaming it before.

Before I could think of anything else the alarm clock sounded. The god-awful racket scared the shit out me. Literally rolling out of bed and crawling to the clock on the other side of the room I was rather proud of myself for not smashing it against the wall. Even with it off I was still jittery from the noise.

Facing back in the direction of the beds I was greeting with wide-eyed shock and amazement from my roommate and best-friend Miranda. Unfortunately Miranda was one of those people who were fully functional at 6 o’clock in the morning. “Oh, I’m shocked,” she said with a hint of amusement, “you actually managed to make it out of bed on time for once.” Miranda and I had been roommates for the past 5 years and this was maybe the second time that I was the one who turned off the clock. The other time she had been sick and I let the clock ring for a good twenty minutes before I bothered to bash it against the wall.

“Yeah, hardy har. If not for this particularly bad dream I had I would still be asleep.” I said as I flicked on the lights. The lights were quite blinding. Looking out the window I could see that the sun had yet to rise. Our room was pretty standard like all of the rooms in St. Allerius. You had your 20’x20’ living space, one full bathroom, and window, but as seniors we were treated special. Not only did you have just one roommate, but you even had your own…closet. I know, when Miranda I found out we that had our very own closets we just felt all warm and fuzzy inside (yeah right). I guess it’s just St. Allerius’ way of saying congratulations for surviving from the ages 5 to 18. “Humph…that must have been a really terrible dream. Considering how you were moaning… and what was it you were saying? Oh yes, no don’t stop,” Miranda did a fair imitation of my voice, barely holding back the laughter. If I could blush my face would be beet red. Instead I grab one of the deep twilight blue pillows off my bed and chucked it at her. She easily dodged it and went back to laughing.

It was moments like this that you really saw how beautiful Miranda was. Not that she wasn’t pretty when she wasn’t smiling. Miranda had that girl next door look about her. Long wavy red brown hair with a set of deep gray green eyes, slender and about my height completed the package. The girl’s only real flaw was that she was almost too nice and sweet. It was hard taking offense against any thing Miranda said. She had such a innocent air about her that up until this moment I wasn’t sure if she even knew what sex was. Taking a moment to get over the laughter she said, “you know that we have to be at the chapel at seven.”

“No, I didn’t know this. What for?” I said. Since I was up I might as well had start to change. Opening up my personal closet I was greeted with a sad view. Uniforms. Not much point in having individual closets if all of the clothes were the same. White blouse, green plaid skirt and ugly low heeled black shoes. “I’m not sure either; only that the teachers said that it was a mandatory meeting,” she said. Neither Miranda or I knew what was going on, but that would shortly change when we entered the chapel.



Wen Miranda and I arrived at the chapel, it was clear that everyone who attended St. Allerius was present. The place was packed. Though the chapel was a work of art, it was still hot and stuffy. The younger students suffered from the excitement of a potential surprise, while the older feared some new punishment. All was revealed by the father.

“Children, my children, God’s children… I have some terrible news for you today,” said the father who stood at the large alter calm and solemn faced “It seems that two of your fellow classmates have been taken from us. They have moved on the after life. To be judged as the almighty sees fit.” The quite roar of voices was instantaneous. People began taking stock of who were present or missing. My self included. Who had I not seen in a while? Then father Bolton continued, “But let not the deaths of your fellow classmates shake your faith in the Lord. For they hath received what they so justly deserved. They who hath eaten from the tree of knowledge, shall now repent their days in hell. They who hath fallen for the wiles of Satan’s minion, the demoness who hath seduced Adam, Lilith the whore of hell.” Whatever father Bolton later said wasn’t important enough for me to recall. What I do remember was that with the mention of murder fear and panic spread like an epidemic.



The cops didn’t waste anytime investigating. Due to the fact that Hague, Alabama was so small barely topping 1,213 people the neighboring police department had to also be called in from 50 miles away. Obviously the local cops weren’t happy about this but had little choice in the matter. Two days after Father Bolton’s little sermon the students were then called into question. The cops were keeping a pretty tight lid on any information about the victims. Names were still unknown, which I found to be most surprising. In a small town where it’s damn near impossible to keep a secret how in the hell do you keep murder victim names from the public?

It was my turn to be called in the second day of questioning. Sitting in that little interrogation room with the coffee table in the middle and the one way mirror I felt a little claustrophobic.

“Officer Roy and Officer Jones is it?” I asked. For some reason I just felt like being a pain in the ass. “A bit generic don’t you think? I don’t want to give you a hard time or anything but I would really like to know why you are interrogating me in a room you reserve for suspects. For one thing I don’t even know the names of the victims.” If anything I would at be able to find out names, if not details.

“Yes, Miss Lillian Wright, we do reserve this room for suspects or at least for those who we feel might have information that could help us in the case.” said officer Roy. Of the two Roy was the oldest, short and more than a bit portly. He looked like one of those doughnut chugging cops you’d see on TV. He didn’t look like he was married or at least I hope he wasn’t, because if so his wife needed to be shot for letting him leave the house with lime green and blue polka dot tie and wrinkled shirt. But hey it wasn’t my problem.

“And so you feel that I have some information that might be of some use for you. Okay, before we get started can I have some coffee…pretty please?” My last request caught them both off guard. Just like I intended. In truth it’s a bit hard to get coffee at St. Allerius so now coffee has become like guilty pleasure for me.

“Sure thing Miss if it will make you more cooperative. Jones, go get Miss Wright some coffee.” commanded Officer Roy to the somewhat flustered Jones. Seeing how Jones had hopped to the task I would have to say that Jones is Roy’s flunky.

“Would you like cream and sugar with that Miss?” ask Officer Jones so wide eyed and bushy tailed definitely a flunky whose still pretty wet behind the ears. I figured he was the weak link in this duo or the good cop in a potential good cop bad cop scenario. Let just say that I like to assess my situation.

“If you would please.” I used the sweetest voice I could and actually looked a bit convincing.

“Sure thing I’ll be right back.” and he was gone. Now there was only me and Officer Roy.

“Now Miss Wright if you don’t have and more request we can start the questioning. Where and what were you do--”

“Uppp…Officer Jones we can’t start now I haven’t had my coffee yet. Also, I don’t know how the system runs, but aren’t you required to have your partner present during interrogation?” Boy was I feeling facetious, half of the stuff I was spouting I was just pulling it out my ass.

“Fine Miss Wright if you wish, we’ll wait for your coffee.” If Roy was getting this upset over the antics of a child then he had some serious anger problems. Erring on the side of caution I decided not to tell him that he might want to look into anger management classes. Luckily we didn’t have to wait long. Jones pranced back in with my coffee quite happy to be working his first murder case.

“So Officer Jones how many cases have you worked in?” I asked him as he handed me the coffee. Already I was feeling a bit more relaxed from the smell. Testing to make sure it wasn’t too hot I took a swallow. Never did drink coffee like normal people, you know sipping it and all.

“Well actually this is only my first case,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“You idiot don’t ever let the suspect know how inexperienced you are.” Raged Roy. Okay now I’m a suspect. It seems that these two have a few issues of their own to work out. I figured that I could work this to my advantage.

“Roy, I think you are being just a bit to hard on your partner all I asked him was a simple question. It’s not Officer Jones fault that you try to dominate everything in the team. Remember what they say in preschool ‘there’s no “I” in team.” Man was I pushing it. However I could see that Roy and Jones weren’t bright enough to see that I was baiting them. Mainly Roy.

“Why you little… you think this is a game. We have two dead boys and a clean crime scene. And all you can do is sit here and play fuckin’ games.” Roy was hot. The little vain in the side of his face was pulsating. I didn’t realize how purple your face could get till that moment. I was actually scared for a moment that Officer Roy would try to jump me. Jones the more peaceful of the two managed to convince Roy to step out the room to cool down. Jones went with him.

Perfect, they did exactly what I wanted to them to. Now I was left alone with the case files. As mad as Roy was I figured they would be out for a good ten minutes. There was actually two files one for each case. Each file was only about a quarter of an inch thick again owing to the lack of evidence my good buddy Roy mentioned. The first file belonged to Joseph Silverman dead about a week. I didn’t know him personally but I knew who he was. From what I heard of him he was a freak. I’m talking straight nasty. I guess when you are raised in a repressive catholic environment where many things that are human are considered taboo you tend to have a few dilemmas. It wasn’t that he was into sexually kinky stuff because I’m pretty sure he was still a virgin. I mean if he was ever given a chance to have sex, I belief he would literally jump to it. But there was just something about him that just turned a girl off. Partly due to fact that he was ugly. Not the utterly unfortunate ugly that doesn’t leave any hope, just ugly. He was on the short side, fat or pudgy whatever you’d like to call it, had pasty skin, and his face had so many pimples that it reminded you of the rocky mountains. However dismaying his appearance was that still wasn’t enough. There was just something about his personality that made a girl say Ewww…According to some of his roommates Joseph had a bit of a voyeuristic streak that he liked to mix with food. So not only was he lusty, but he had a food fetish. Now I like to eat…a lot. But Joseph supposedly took it to a whole new step; he was the epitome of a glutton. His idea of a perfect woman was one who literally looked and smelled like food. One particularly nasty story that his roommates used to tell was how he managed to make a girl completely out of old oatmeal; don’t ask me how he got enough or what he did with it, just know NASTY.

Now matter how perverted the kid was he didn’t deserve to end up like the picture. At first glance I couldn’t make sense of it. The picture was perfectly clear with his manner off death, but what got me was the expression on his face. Utterly peaceful. I just didn’t see how anyone who was gutting could die with a peaceful look on their face. I flipped through the rest of the file to see if there was a mention of an alternative death. Nothing. Joseph Silverman died in a moment of ecstasy while having his insides cut out of him. According to the coroner he ejaculated at the same moment he was being killed. As terrible as this was I couldn’t really get all broken up about him; simply because I didn’t really know him. I just knew of him. He never really existed in my world. So, how can you feel sorry for what never existed?

I closed Joseph’s file and switched to the second one. I opened up the folder and froze. The name on the inside of that folder was Daniel Henderson. Wallace Henderson’s twin brother. My Daniel. I couldn’t accept it. Maybe there was another Daniel that I just didn’t know about I told myself. They say pictures don’t lie. There lying in a pool of blood was my beautiful Daniel. Dropping the picture after taking only a glance I closed the folder and went back to where the cops had left. I was numb. Numb to everything. I wanted to cry. I thought I should cry, but I couldn’t.

Just as I predicted Roy and Jones came back after about ten minutes, but I didn’t care. He first asked me questions about Joseph Silverman, whether I knew of him or had associated with him. I answered yes to the first and no to the second. Really though, if I had said anything else about Joseph I don’t remember. Then they asked me about Daniel. At the mention of his name I was suddenly angry. I don’t exactly know why, but I felt that I could just hurt something or someone.

“Miss Wright, I’ll ask you again will you please tell me where you were on July 4th during the hour of 7pm and 12 pm.,” asked Jones. I guess Jones had been asking me all the questions since the two officers had returned. Not that it mattered anymore.

“Uh… oh, excuse me. July the 4th , July the 4th…,” to tell you the truth I really couldn’t remember. It was as though there was a black curtain there. If the fourth of July was the day that Daniel was murdered then he was the first victim and was killed three days before Joseph. So why the hell hadn’t I noticed that he had been missing for a whole damn week and a half? Since I knew the cops wouldn’t just believe that I couldn’t remember I gave them a pretty convincing lie. “Oh I remember, I was hanging out with my friend Miranda watching the fireworks from our room.” I knew that Miranda would lie for me. After a few more questions they finally released me. Officer Jones telling me how corporative I had been, while Roy just sulked on the side. They told me that I had told them everything that they needed to know, but I knew they would watching me. I’m not sure why they would. I know that I’m innocent, but if watching me would find Daniel’s killer then so be it.



Back at St. Allerius I stormed through the halls with a vengeance. I only had one target in mind. Without pause I went straight to the west wing; the boys wing. There were a few guys in the halls, but they didn’t dare stop me. The monotonous white walls went by in a blur until I stopped in front of room 104. Not bothering to knock I bomb rushed the room. Lying on his bed and not looking the least bit surprised was Wallace.

“Wallace you Bastard, why didn’t you tell me?” I was pissed. Still riding the rage that I had felt in the police department. I’d decided to take it out on Wallace.

“And what was I suppose to tell you Lillian?” he asked smug in his ever present confidence.

“About your brother. How could he be missing for a whole week and a half and you not tell me?” I said. Wallace had stood from the bed and I flew at him like a demon. Flailing and scratching him trying through violence to make him understand how I was feeling. I was crying too. Wallace easily caught my wrist and used his body to hold me down on the bed.

“You know, girls aren’t suppose to be in the boy’s wing,” he said inches from my face still ever confident. To someone walking in we’d look like we were in the misted of something intimate. My dream from a few nights ago came rushing back in full details. Rage transformed into desire. Daniel and Wallace seemed to always have this effect on me. And maybe I on them, because I could feel that Wallace was getting hard. “Now what is it you wanted to ask me Lillian?” With my wrist held above me head Wallace starts kissing away the tears that were still running down my face.

“Get off of me,” I said calmly. The anger I felt before was no longer there. Looking into Wallace face I couldn’t believe how much he looked like Daniel. I know that’s because they’re twins. But you never really understand this until the one that you loved is gone. Wallace didn’t move, but he did stop kissing me.

“Really what wrong?” for once there was something other than humor in his eyes. Concern?

“How can you not know? Haven’t you even wondered where Daniel has been for the last ten days?” I asked. Fresh tears were rolling down my face. Wallace still didn’t get off of me. He was thinking. I wonder why the cops didn’t tell him that his bother was a victim. Wallace may be a jerk, but he was a smart jerk. Then the realization of what I’d been saying dawned on him.

“That Bitch…,” without saying more he was off of me and out the door. I just laid there crying too hard to do anything else. There was a quite knock at he door since I didn’t say anything whoever it was came it. It was Miranda. Like I said before almost sweet to a fault. Knowing exactly what to do she hugged me while I cried and cried. When I had calmed down a bit she bid us to go back to our room before any of the moderators caught us on the boy’s side.

Back to the room we didn’t say anything. Instead of taking a bath like I normally do I took a quick shower and got in bed. It was a bit early, but I was too tired to care. So much had happened that I was having trouble processing it all. Tonight I had a new puzzle on my brain. The black curtain in my memory. Why couldn’t I remember?