Page 8 of Nothing to Lose: Lost Trilogy: Part 1
There’s still no response on the dark web, and now I start debating if I should try a different channel. I basically just picked one at random and prayed it would do something. It’s obviously doing nothing, so I need to move on.
However, I continue pacing, unable to focus on what I should do next. Six more minutes go by, which means I have to survive these last nine minutes of the day. Then, I’ll be free.
The cursor on the screen is still blinking furiously on the computer screen. Between the stress of everything and the pain in my chest from where the hockey puck pressed into my skin, I feel light-headed and like I may throw up.
Four more minutes pass, and now I am down to five.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi…
I start counting in my head, hoping like hell that I can make it alive to three hundred Mississippis.
I am at sixty-three when the computer dings with a message. My cell phone vibrates on my desk at exactly the same time. I get confused for a second, wondering which one I should check first.
I notice that the message on my cell phone is from my mother, and I instantly get a bad feeling about it.
“What the fuck,” I murmur. I don’t want to look, but at the same time I just know it in my gut that whatever she sent me this late into the night is nothing good.
I look at the computer screen as my fingers blindly type in the code to unlock my phone.
TallDude: 12512 Industrial Rd, Bedford, tomorrow at 10pm sharp – only chance
I let out a huge sigh of relief that at least that’s going well for me. Now I’ll have to figure out where the fuck that address is and how I’ll be there tomorrow by ten at night. I have classes during the day, and Austin is hours away.
Distracted by my planning of this weird trip, I finally look at the screen of my phone. And freeze.
The message I received is a video. The preview of it shows that it is a recording of my mother. She is smiling into the camera, hair brushed down to her shoulders, makeup in place. Her eyes sparkle, but I can’t tell if it is from alcohol, drugs, or just the flash of the camera.
I don’t want to watch whatever the hell this is that she just sent me, but since she’s never done this before, I have a feeling it could be important.
I finally press thePlaybutton on the screen, then wait.
At first, it’s nothing interesting. My mother is dressed in a flowy white dress. It almost reminds me of a wedding dress. Actually, now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure this is the dress she wore when she married Kenny.
“What the fuck is she doing?” I murmur to myself.
It seems as if she’s just walking around the back yard, the high heels of her elegant shoes sinking into the soft grass. She then heads toward the water. When she gets to the dock, the heels click with every step she takes.
The dock reminds me of that day six months ago when she said she’d make a deal with me. I was sitting in the exact spot she is now standing in this video.
I am surprised when she turns toward the camera and smiles. She looks beautiful and carefree, nothing like the image of the woman she’s been in recent years. It’s as if the weight has been finally lifted off her shoulders.
She doesn’t say anything, just smiles and stares into the camera, then looks down at the bouquet of blood red roses she is holding in her hands.
I’m about to stop the video because it’s creeping me out. I have no idea what the point to it is, but she can play her little games with Kenny, not me.
My finger is poised over the screen to end this torture when I feel my breath leaving my body.
My mother drops the roses to the ground. They spread at her feet in a picture perfect design. And now, she is holding a pistol.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper again, knowing she can’t hear me.
She smiles again at the camera, the red lipstick on her lips making her teeth look impossibly white and perfect.
“For you,” she winks and blows a kiss to the camera.
Then, as if in slow motion, she brings the gun to her head and pulls the trigger.
“No!” I yell into the empty room. “What did you do? No!”
