Unknown Passions: Fan Fiction
Home Chapter 12
Lyrics from Poem by Taproot
Overbearing panic attack entrenching my veins
She decided against stepping into the ambulance
Not if the same person from before was there. Anyway she somewhat wanted to walk again.
LA was probably one the most dangerous places to walk. Even in the day.
Maybe New York was worse.
As she approached the doors she noticed swarms of reporters surrounding them, banging on the glass.
"Sh*t." she silently mumbled to herself, making her way towards the door, lowering her head, attempting to bring little attention to herself.
After she got through the first two, just to annoy her the third one, out of about 50, noticed her.
"Theresa? Theresa Johnson?" one of them questioned.
She immediately exited her cocoon, and put on her infamous fake smile. "Yes?"
"What exactly are you doing here?"
"Which here?" she questioned right back.
"Both Harmony and it's hospital."
"I got stranded in this charming little town around 19 hours ago." she hated lying, "and I'm at the hospital trying to see a little girl who recently was shot around that book place with coffee."
"What?" one of them looked horrified.
"I was recently walking around, and a little girl was shot, I decided not to go with them instead of walking here myself. But If you wouldn't mind I would appreciate to see how she is doing," with that she left them, walking through swarms, approaching the hospital doors.
An emotionless expression on her face now covered her recently fake smile she was so good at.
In an hour I'll be OK
And then, that's when she saw the one person she didn't want to see.
Just to make her day worse, that same person saw her back.
Theresa just forced herself to keep walking, but it would never happen that way.
"Excuse me!" Ivy yelled out with Pilar by her side.
"What is it?" the girl sighed while turning around.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded to know.
Theresa stared at her posse or whatever that woman was. The woman who wouldn't stop staring at her....eww.
"I really don't have time for this, and there are reporters out front." she walked away again from the...her.
I pray this pain will go away permanently someday
And he stared. It wasn't as if he was that entranced with the ceiling above him, or he was that easily entertained, he wasn't.
But it was all he could force himself to do that didn't hurt.
So he stared.
Colors started forming on the white background, and vision became blurry.
So he blinked.
'Ow!' his mind yelled.
Just then another distraction entered the room.
'I thought Mother had to go.' he stated to himself.
But eventually he felt as if he was the target of a strangers glance. Yet he was somehow warm.
After about a minute of wondering, a voice started to speak.
"Uh...hi. I-I'm positive you don't remember me at all, but uh, I'm sorry." what a wonderful voice it was.
"What am I saying, your probably not even awake." she mumbled to herself. "Anyway I just wanted to check up. See if you weren't dead. You know common stuff."
'Who is this?' the question he should have asked a while ago finally popped up in his mind.
"Well, uh yeah anyway, I need to go." she turned to leave.
"Don't." he stated as her hand slightly grazed the knob.
He felt her drop her hand in a surprise shock.
"You're awake?" she questioned while walking closer to the complete stranger.
"Who are you?"
"I uh..I kind of knocked you out." she stopped, "on accident." she stated for the record. "Sorry."
"I'm fine don't worry about it."
"I always worry."
"Causes too much stress. Don't. So why exactly are you here?" he changed the subject.
"I figured I'd see you before I head into the authorities." he still hadn't seen her, but he loved her joking voice.
"Mind telling me your name?" he asked.
"Lisa." she lied, while walking up towards the bed.
And now that I've seen you I'm in love with you.
I've seen more than I should have to
"Was that the girl?" Pilar asked after about a minute with a still stunned expression on her face.
"Yes. Don't you hate her?" Ivy was once again in a bad mood.
"What's her name?" Pilar asked, still keeping her eyes locked straight ahead for no reason.
"Theresa something. Apparently I'm wearing her clothing. Like that would ever happen." the lady snickered.
"Who does she remind you of?"
Ivy decided to go at this again, and she racked her brain for an answer, when only one person stood out.
'There's no way.' half of her mind yelled.
'You should have known.'
"Oh my gosh." Ivy whispered now staring in the same direction her best friend was.
I've seen this on my own
"Why her?" the secretary entered the room.
"Pardon?"
"Why did you randomly choose to assassinate one of the most famous fashion designers on Earth."
"I was bored," he propped his feet up on the desk infront of him.
"Well it didn't go through."
"What!" he almost fell back from the shock.
"It was called off."
"Sh*t." he mumbled.
"What's the big deal I thought you were bored." she snickered to her boss.
"Put our hit man on line 1. I want to talk to him!" he watched his secretary leave, while he questioned weather or not he should have yelled that last statement.
Just then the phone rang, as he expected.
'Good.' his mind applauded the female worker.
"Why didn't you go through with the shot?" he demanded to know.
"I was ordered to back off." the guy replied in an equal defiant tone.
"By who?"
"Ellis."
"Why did you listen?"
"She threatened me, and she doesn't joke around too often."
Richard then slammed down the phone, letting his emotions show. Number 1 rule in the office. Don't.
He then picked up a card he was given years ago in case of emergency situation years ago.
Dialing the unfamiliar numbers, he waited for an answer.
"David Sark speaking." a British accent filled his head.
"May I please speak to Irina Derverko?" he questioned.
"My employer is currently unavailable at the moment, so why don't you just get to the point of your call." he rushed.
"I want somebody in my custody."
"A name would be preferred."
"Theresa Johnson."
"No for you. And I highly doubt that your name is Theresa."
"Call me Richard."
"I'll call you Eric."
The man had no response to the rudeness of the obvisouly young 'employee.'
"Considering my employer gave you this number I would suspect you are important to them in some way. I'll contact you later on." the phone went dead, and a smile curved on the man's lips.
This song is a, poem to myself,
It helps me to live...
In case of fire,
Break the glass,
And move on into your own