Page 3

Jeff twitched slightly forcing a giant smile as a pathetic way to hide his disappointment. Fears and sadness overwhelmed him. "Ok. Then go."

"Oh Jeff, don’t be upset. I wish to god I could call or email you."

"No way you’re getting one of them goddamn computers or phones in this house. They carry cancer and allow the CIA to listen in on your conversations."

"I know Jeff, I know you don’t trust them I just worry about you and wish I had the means to check in on you."

"Listen, you go. I will be fine. Christ it is only three days, you think I am that crazy?" Jeff laughed. This time Virginia also laughed. She had to. He motioned for her to stand and she did. He hugged her tight as he whispered. "Now not another word about phone calls or emails."

After Virginia left Jeff quickly dashed off to the kitchen and reached for the drawer. In the drawer he keeps a collection of pills. There were bottles of paroxetine, diazepam, clonazeopam, buspar; and then he found it hiding in the corner, alprazolam. He pulled off the top to his favorite little anti-anxiety and popped two into his mouth. He shook his head.

"Three days. Three days and she will come back. She has to. But what if she has a car accident? What if she is kidnapped, or raped? If she was raped she could develop a major phobia of males, thus she would stop seeing me altogether." He shook his head as he softly hit himself with a closed fist. "Stop it you are doing it again.

The what ifs always help you lose control. TV! Got to watch TV!"

He stumbled back into the living room and plopped himself down on the leather couch. He reached for the remote and turned it on. It was the news. The newscaster looked into the camera with a stern look.

"A young woman was found today murdered in the Raintree Village projects in Brockton MA. The woman was believed to be a police informant responsible for a raid on a drug house on Winthrop Street last month. The woman was found execution style with four gunshots from a .22 caliber handgun. Her hands were tied behind her."

"And I am the crazy one for not leaving my house. Terrorism, shootings, gang banging, the whole world goes to shit but still people flock in record numbers to buy more bullshit, yet I am the disturbed one." As he talked to himself and the pills began to take hold he heard from upstairs the patter of small feet running across the floor. He shook his head, ignoring it as a side effect from the pills. It was the undeniable laughter of a child which made him shoot up. "What the fuck?"

Terror overwhelmed him. He felt his heart speed up considerably. He pulled himself from the couch and slowly made his way toward the staircase. The sounds of the feet ran back and forth accompanied by the laugh of a little girl.

"Hello? You’re not supposed to be here." And the running stopped just like that. He gripped the railing with a shaking, white knuckled hand. There was nothing now, nothing but empty silence. He shook his head letting out a nervous laugh. "These fucking pills, I’ll tell you…"

"You’re not fun anymore Jeff." A girl’s voice yelled behind him. Spinning around he lost his balance and fell to the floor. He scanned the area but saw nothing; no girl.

"It is the pills; don’t freak out. There’s no one in this house, especially not some child. You are tired, it has been a long day and you just took two real strong pills."

Of course it is just the pills you dumb shit. Look at you.

Jeff laughed as he pulled himself up. "These fucking pills will…"

Suddenly something whizzed past his head at a high velocity; smashing against the wall into a million pieces. Jeff spun around to see no one behind him, just an empty end table where there once was a ceramic vase. Jeff walked across the room and looked at the broken object.

"Just the pills? How the fuck can you blame the pills on that?"

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