Josh

As quietly as possible, I close the door behind me.

Not that I haven't been out like this before. I've been out at this hour— that is three at night— hella times. Its just that this time, we have a lovesick granny in our dorm who won't sleep at nights.

And turns out, granny is still up now too.

"Dude," I raise my hands in surrender. "I can explain."

Ryan Granny Hunt sits on his bed as usual; his fists clenching the sheets on either side, his jaw clenching his teeth, fully suited booted, as if he's ready to sprint up and go kill someone.

And, to be honest here, I believe that it's exactly what he's planing right now. To kill someone brutally. Squeeze the tiny fragile neck like he's doing with his sheets.

And to be more honest, I freaks me out.

Here I am, coming back from the kitchens at three at night to find a series-killer-looking, sulking Hunt awaiting me with same look in his eyes as the thoughts in his head.

Did I mention before that he's planing a murder? Well if I didn't, I'll tell you. He's planning a murder. And that's exactly why I'm scared out of my pants. He might just test all his killing maneuvers on me. I'm mo mannequin—wow! That was a hard word. Someone give me a prize right now!

And if you're gonna ask 'oh josh the great, how you know?' Imma tell you.

He was discussing murder with the snoring literary guy of the dorm, aka Simon.

I'll kill that bastard. ryan had said. And I had heard it, because I was sitting across from them.

I'm sneaky.

"Shut up." Granny Ryan grumbles.

"Okay momma." I tell him, relieved that he isn't gonna kill me. Josh lives, ladies and gents.

I grab my change of clothes from my bed and quietly whistling under my breath, make my way to the loo.

Simon's snores still echo in the dark room when I come out. Ryan has his hands on his face and his elbows on his knees.

For real, I feel bad for the guy.

I could see that he'd fallen for that aesthetic girl as bad as shed fallen for him. But thats what happens when you fall. You get hurt. And this guy— no matter hoe much fun I make of him— is still my buddy.

"Hey man." I sit down beside him. I gotta get him to sleep, which he hasn't much in the past four days.

Ryan lowers his hands and turns his head to look at me.

"What?" He grunts.

"Who're you planning to kill?" I ask him.

That's right. I don't know that.

"A bastard." Ryan closes his eyes and breathes through his nose as if he's going to breathe fire out of it. "A goddamned bastard."

"There's so many of those in this world, man." I change my sitting position to a few centimetres more away from him. "Which one exactly we talking of?"

"The worst of them." He replies, clenching his jaw.

Approach not working. Approach not working!! Plan A abort! Plan B! Plan B!!

"So what you gonna do that worst bastard in the world." I ask him, hoping letting it off his chest would work.

"A lot of things." He replies, jaw still clenched. His eyes are fixed on something in the dark behind me— which is creepy as hell— but I don't look back to check what it is.

Simon's phone pings somewhere in the background but the voice drowns in his loud snores.

"Right." I nod, not understanding at all. But I'm not going to make him elaborate— another heavy word! I'm geniu—

"I want to talk to her." Ryan's tiny whisper is so inaudible that if it wasn't for me sitting by him, I wouldn't have heard it.

I look at his face to find his eyes now fixed on mine, looking as if he's saying please. "I want to talk to Jules"

"Man, you know we've all been trying—"

"Please..." he breaths, pleading with his eyes. "... please..."

Four days straight, we've been trying to get Julia on the phone. But her cell always turns out to be switched off. We tried the land line number but an old maid lady picks up and tells us that "the Lady isn't at home". Ryan never puts the phone to his ear— which Simon says is because he fears that if wont be Julia and he's end up crying— but he listens very closely. Yesterday, he went missing for four hours right after Simon tried in vain to call Julia's cell.

"Why don't we do this is the morning, man? When—"

"No!" Ryan growls. "Please. Now. I want to talk to her... please..."

His eyes look wet, his voice breaks.

"I can't survive the night." His voice is thick. "Please, Josh."

If he wasn't Ryan but some girl from the English it history class, I'd have hugged him by now. I don't like tears. And this guy looks like he's gonna she'd hell lot of 'em if I don't give him the dolly.

I decide that I'll try to give him the dolly.

Kira

"Oh for crying out loud!" I nearly throw the rag on the floor and stomp my way to the cradle where the phone is ringing for the third time in the row.

The first time, I was just going checking out the fridge for food. I ignored it. I had made all the way from my quarters to here for good food, not for work. The second time it happened, I spilled a whole gallon of milk on the floor! I cursed the caller out loud,  later on thanking God that no one really heard me.

And this is the third time.

"Hello?" I put the receiver to my ear.

"Who's this?" Comes a male voice from the other side. I don't know who it is, but he's an idiot, that I can tell.

"I hate to tell you, sir," I tell him, looking left and right to confirm that no one really is listening. "But I should be the one asking that."

"Look lady," says the man from the other side "I dont know who you are, 'cuz you ain't that old maid lady who's been turning us down, but can you be a nice lady and get Julia Garfield on the line?"

What? I stare the receiver for a moment.

Just some boys wanting to mess around. Madam Beth had said when I had asked who she was yelling at. Don't pay any heed.

These calls have been coming ever since Miss Julia's phone got confiscated. These aren't any random boys. They're—

"Hello? Earth to the deaf Lady?" The guy's voice brings me back to consciousness. "This is important! Julia Garfield on the phone please."

Some one groans and says something I cant understand behind the guy on the phone.

Probably that "Ryan" the Lady paints and draws.

Holy God!

"Hold on a minute." I tell them. "I'll be right back."

I'm not as cold hearted as Madam Beth.    Miss Julia has a right to talk to her lover.

"Ah! Thank heavens!" I hear the guy say, as I pick up the cordless receiver and run off to the lady's room.

Ryan

He's lying. Says my inner consciousness.

"She's probably gonna take to phone to her." Josh hold out his phone for me to take.

She's taking the phone to Julia...

I take his phone, my hands trembling slightly out of anticipation... or maybe fear? Fear that who ever josh was talking to might take to phone somewhere else.

No. I tell myself, putting the cold glass surface against my ear. Shes taking the phone to Julia.

"Hello?" Someone, some lady says from the other side.

Its not Julia. I look up at josh. Its not Julia. It's—

"You'll have to hold the line for a while," says the woman. "Miss Julia is... well, asleep."

She's asleep...  I think to myself. Here I am, restless and broken, and she's—

"She hasn't slept at all in a while, sir." The woman adds quietly, sounding a little out of breath. Maybe she ran all the way?

I was right. Julia would never betray me. Its good that shes sleeping. Let her sleep.

"I don't want to disturb her, but if you say I'll—

"Put the receiver by her, please." I tell the nice lady, my voice raspy. "I shall be grateful."

There's a pause on the other side of the phone, a pause that makes my heart stop beating for a moment, as if the lady is thinking if its a good idea or not.

Then the voice fills the air, and—an instant later—my heart.

Julia's soft even breaths can be easily heard from the other side. Shes sound asleep, just like she did back when we were in my bed at mt home. Asleep like a beautiful angel just stoping to take a small nap.

I find myself  leaning against the bed frame, and listen to the voice of her breath, thinking if out heartbeats are in sync just as our breaths are at the moment. Out of the corner of the eyes, I see Josh shake his head, mumbling something to himself as he gets up to go yo his own bed.

I don't care what he says.

Julia is sleeping so peacefully. I want to hold her in my arms, like I did last weekend... that weekend seemingly centuries ago. I want to hug her close and breathe in her scent. I want to look into her mesmerising eyes and get lost, never to be found again. I want to do so many things. So so many.

Julia sighs in her sleep, making a little voice which plays with all the strings of my heart. I close my eyes, drowning in the sound of her breaths.

After a long time, I'm home again. I love home. I love Julia.

Julia

"Lila dear?" My mom calls me. Only she calls me Lila. Or Jules. Which sounds like those pretty necklaces she wears. I don't mind. I really like those necklaces.

"Yes momma?" I place my crayon back in the box, and turn back to see her looking at me with her pretty smile.

"Come here, please." She motions me with her finger, with the clippy thing on it. I don't know what it is, but momma never takes it off. The wires all go to one little machine on momma's side table though, thats what I know.

As carefully as i can with the frilly tu-tu I'm wearing, i make my way over to momma's bed and climb onto it.

"Yes momma?" I ask. She smiles at me.

"Grab that phone, please, Jules." She points to the 'cordless' by her feet. Momma is weak. She cant get up. Daddy told me she is very sick and I should help her.  I like helping momma. Shes my momma.

"Okay momma!" I tell her and grab the phone for her. I offer it to her, but she shakes her head no.

"Dial it for me sweetie." She says, holding out the hand which doesn't have the clippy thing on it, to show me a paper.

The paper is old. Like one of my old drawings which I threw away because they weren't nice. Does momma want me to dial an old drawing?

I take the paper from momma and open it.

No! Its not a drawing. Its a number! I don't know many numbers, but momma taught me to copy the numbers. So I press the matching buttons, just like mama taught me, and put it to my ear to see if i did well.

I did. I succeeded in dialling all the numbers. I can hear the beeping which confirms it.

"Hello?" Suddenly someone says from the phone. It's a boy. I don't talk to boys much.

"Its a boy momma." I tell my momma.

"Yes I am." Says the boy from the other side.

"I'm not talking to you." I tell the boy. I don't do that. Daddy told me not to. Boys don't like girls.

"Then why you called?" The boy asks.

I don't know. I look at momma. She called. Not me.

"Tell him to call his mother." Momma tells me, smiling. "Tell him that your momma wants to talk to his mother."

"My momma wants to talk to your momma." I tell the boy.

"Oh." He says. "Why didn't you say so before."

Why is he asking so many questions? I think to myself. This boy is stupid! Daddy was right.

"And you're answering none." Says the boy.

I hear momma laugh. Means I said the question out loud.

I don't like this boy. He's making fun of me!

"Ray! Give that to me!" Says someone on the other side. The angry voice makes me scared, and I drop the phone. Momma laughs and picks it up.

"Annabelle!" She says, putting it to her ear. "It's been so long..."

"It's been so long..." I whisper to myself as I finish the painting of the cordless phone laying on the pillow on which i had been asleep.

The words from the most vivid memory I have of my mom now stare at me from the cavas, painted in ocean blue just like Ryan's eyes.

Ray... the woman had called the boy ray. And I never noticed. All the clues match. The woman's voice was Anna's voice, short for Annabelle. The sarcasm in the boy's voice was just like Ryan's.

Why didn't I never notice?

"Its been so long..." I place my brush and palate by my paints, and stare at my work.

I've known Ryan for so long. I wonder if he ever realised that. I wonder if he ever asked his mom who the girl on the phone was. I wonder if he recognised me as the girl on the phone or not.

My eyes roam over the little bird asleep by the phone in my painting.

A dove. 

Ryan had said Dove. He'd said so so many things. And I've painted almost all of them, one way or another in these days which have past.

My room is filled with paintings and sketches of Ryan Hunt. Those are only things I love about this room. The rest, I despise.

I despise the picture of my father and I, now chucked inside my closet. I despise all the things he's bought me over time. And I despise the ugly piece of card which was delivered to me that day.

I hate that invitation from the depth of my heart. I want to rip it apart and burn it!

But Dad wants me to decide who'm I taking to the party with me this time. I told him that it was impossible for me to call anyone to take with me— a desperate attempt to get my phone back. But Dad saw through it easily and told me to just write the number on a paper, and hand it to him.

I haven't decided anything yet. Ryan's cell has been blocked from all the phone's in the house. There is no way to call him.  I tried calling the phone by which he'd contacted last night, but it might've been one of his friends. I ended up with a voice mail note. Maybe because the recipient was in class? It sounded like josh. So I decided to leave a message, but before that could happen, Madam Beth bursted into my room, followed by a very sorry looking Kira.

"Excuse me, Miss" she said.

And that was the last of what I saw of the phone, the ray of hope in my hand had been snatched away.

That was almost nine in the morning. Now it's past three in the evening. And here, I sit, undeceive of whom I supposed to pick to come with me to the party where I might stab someone very rich in the eye with a fork.

"It's been a long time." I tell the dove in the painting. Its been very very long....

~•|•~