Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > These Are The Seeds We Sew
CHAPTER THREE3 reviews
So sorry if you already read it but FicWad is bitchin this story so badly and the chapters were all in the wrong order. SORRY
This was hard, just a small plastic bag with a single necklace in it. That's all the officer had to give me, that's all that was left after they'd scavenged the belongings left on her body. It's hard to hate them when I know they needed everything they could in order to try and find the bastard that did this to her.
"There were no details of her relatives, only your name." he said sadly to me.
I know he'd seen this story over and over. Young girl on the street, selling her body, gets unlucky and loses her life. I wonder what he thought of me. Did he wonder who I was, how I knew her, how I felt about her? Even less importantly to him...did he even care?
"Her parents won't know." I said quietly.
"Sir?" the officer asked puzzled.
"If I was her only contact, that means no-one else knows?" I said to him, in more of a question than a statement.
"We're trying to locate their details." He informed me.
I just nodded, I looked down at the necklace in the bag and felt such great loss that it mauled at my stomach.
"Where are your toilets?" I asked urgently, the officer pointed and I rushed over, only just making the sink before I threw up hard. I could only let the snails of saliva drip from my mouth into the sink, I was so lost I couldn't even get my hands up to my mouth. They shook as I steadily brought them up to get a paper towel and I wiped my mouth, spitting out a last distasteful mouth of fluid from my mouth.
I couldn't get it out of my head, her lifeless body. Charlie was actually gone, forever. This was not a game, there was nothing to be won, the prize had been lost and I just felt like a misplaced pawn on the chess board.
What right did this monster have to take her life, to snuff it out so indecently?
What could she have ever done to deserve that death sentence?
I couldn't control my anger and hurt, she was many things, she had many flaws and strong traits but none warranted this. None.
I sat in the car, the LA heat was being cruel, burning the denim on my jeans. I could only keep staring at her picture on my phone. Fiddling with the buttons, I pressed play on the video.
"Trick, put it away, I hate those things!" she whined to me. It only made me want to film her more, her uneasiness, the nerves, it excited me a lot.
"I just need it to remember how beautiful you are." I said, she laughed and put her hand over the lens.
"You don't need to remember stuff like that..." she whispered, hoping it couldn't be picked up.
What you didn't see was her leaning over me wrapped in the bed sheets and kissing me firmly, gently biting my bottom lip as she did.
"You need to remember stuff like that...." She whispered.
The video shut off.
She was right, incredibly right. I remembered that kiss, I don't actually think I'd ever be able to forget it.
Caught up in that moment, my cell began vibrating with the caller ID :
"Hey." I muttered.
"Ric - what's going on?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"I don't wanna talk about it now." I said, keeping the edge off the tremor in my voice.
"Should I worry?" he asked.
Worry about yourself... I muttered in my head.
"No. I just need a few days, can you all give me that?? - I need a few days, to deal with this. And then I'll be back to the circus!"
"Ok. Well, I'm here." Pete said quietly, but he was short with me, I could hear how curt his reply was.
I slid the phone down.
I located the video and then I played it again....and then again just to make sure.
I tossed the beer bottle top to the floor and sat down in the sofa, taking a long drink of it. I noticed the 14 messages on my answering machine upon coming back; I wasn't going to respond to a single one.
Tonight was about Charlie.
It was about accepting her loss.
It was about letting my feelings do whatever they wanted in the safety of my loneliness.
Another long swig of the beer and I knew I'd had enough, I put the bottle down on the table. As I sunk into the sofa, that's when it really dawned on my thoughts.
I couldn't be in this apartment.
We'd been on this sofa together, in fact, she would've been sat on my lap right now, making me feel like a king.
She always did, I never had to ask her to treat me specially, she just did it without asking.
She served me in more ways than she should have, maybe that's why she was dead....
My apartment door knocked, I just ignored it. I'd made it clear, I required solitude - maybe that was too much to ask.
"Patrick - it's Pete..." I heard his voice say. I threw myself back into the sofa and took a mouthful of beer.
"Come on man, I'm worried sick about you."
"Patrick!" he said more angrily.
Shouting wouldn't make me open the door, Prickface.
But somehow I was opening the door and I was casually letting him in.
He went straight to the fridge and mimicked my choice refreshment except he put the bottle top in the bin.
He slumped in the sofa opposite me and took a long sip.
It's not true that's it's golden though, silence is a curse, builds tension and pressure to convey your thoughts.
"What happened?" Pete said, pressing his lips together after he'd taken that long sip.
I didn't answer, just stared ahead blankly.
Another sip of our beers.
"Can you just-"
"-Stop it Pete, I don't wanna talk about it."
I knew I was making it difficult for him, but he was making my life difficult by turning up when I'd asked all of them to let me be.
I couldn't deal with anything at the moment.
I had never been on edge like this in the years of my life but then again, I had never lost anyone I was involved with.
So Pete just sat with me, I guess I expected that, he was my best friend. My confidante, occasional beer buddy when he wasn't at some glitzy occasion with a glitzy Hollywood actress that, don't be fooled, he (always) jumped into bed with.
"Tell me about her..." Pete said softly,
How the hell did he do that? What - did he just take a guess and hope that luck endorsed it??
"I can't." I just said, how strongly did I need to make the point?
"Then you'll never get over her..." Pete warned me.
Was he warning me now? I didn't need warning, I needed to be alone.
"You don't know what you're talking about Pete." I said, I know it was cold and I know it was full of the warning tone in which he had spoken to me.
"So tell me."
"Pete - Leave it!!!" I yelled at him.
"You know what - I'm leaving you on your own." He said getting up.
"Good - that's what I asked for - I asked to be left alone - I'm glad you're finally getting the message!" I snarled angrily.
"Call me when you're done commiserating."
He slammed the door behind him.
Finally, I was alone, I laid down on the sofa.
There she was, in my arms and I was stroking her deep red hair, pushing it behind her ear. Kissing the small of her neck, my hands running up over those curves.
The knocking this time just pissed me off. I was handling the memory so vividly and it was gone instantly.
"What??!" I growled angrily, only to be confronted with 2 suited men. One held up a badge.
"Patrick Stump?" He asked me, I knew I looked horrified.
"Detective Ian Berry, I'm here to ask you some questions about Miss Charlie Redwood."
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