Daydreamer Read online

  “From the way you describe his ‘love taps’, it doesn’t sound like it.” I laughed.

  “Anyways, I think he might ask me to the formal. Should I say yes?” She asked. It seemed like a pretty big thing to assume, but I hadn’t seen her glow like this since dad was . . . dad.

  “Yes,” I giggled. She jumped around my room like a bunny rabbit.

  …………………………………………………………………………………

  Two weeks later

  “Mama, put the camera away until Marie actually comes downstairs.” I gestured, swatting my hands in the air. The flash was blinding. She kept taking pictures of the walls, to make sure the camera was going to work when Marie came down in her dress.

  When she did, it was beautiful. She was truly stunning. Brent was standing right next to me, silent. He couldn’t even come up with a word good enough to describe somebody so beautiful. Her silky shoulder length hair was bronze and shining. Her hazel eyes seemed like they popped for the first time. Her honeyed-caramel skin tone complimented her raspberry pink dress in the best way possible. In that moment, I was honored to be in her presence, and to be her sister.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Brent gave her a white rose; she put it in her hair and hugged him. She loved it. Mom took a picture of those two and then of Marie by herself. I pulled Brent aside and told him, “Take care of my little sister. Have her home by twelve.” He nodded.

  Chapter 10

  Now, they shoved an eighteen-year-old Brent into a squad car. He whispered to me, “Why didn’t you take care of her?” His heart was broken, and I could see it on his face, but so was mine. He thought Marie’s death was my fault.

  A tear ran down his cheek before they slammed the door, making the both of us flinch. Before I knew it, I was crying again. I believed this is my fault more than he does. He can’t begin to imagine the guilt and torture I’ve been putting myself through.

  Clef walks up to me and guides me back to his car. He puts me down in the back seat and I just lay there, crying.

  When we get back to my apartment, I pull out a scrapbook Marie and Brent made a few months before she died. They were together for two years, and it’s a damn shame death was the thing to break them up. I wasn’t invested in their relationship much, but I could see from these pictures they cared for each other, deeply.

  There was this one picture of them from Homecoming, two years ago. She had a white rose in her hair, and they were hugging as if that were the last time they would. After that, I remember when she taped that white rose onto her mirror in her room, no matter how old it got, she refused to take it down. It reminded her of a new love, somehow; I admired that. She was young, but so wise and smart.

  There was this one picture from their fourth date. They went to the movies. She got her first kiss that night. They posed like a couple. She had the most adorable duck face imaginable and he smiled wider than she ever could. I don’t know how it feels to be young and in love, but it looks like a very powerful spell from where I’m sitting.

  “Katarina, you know he can’t be the one we are after, right?” Clef interrupts. I couldn’t’ remember how he even got in the room.

  “My name is Kate!” I whimpered, letting a few tears fall from my cheeks like raindrops.

  “Kate.” He corrects. “That was just a spur of the moment kind of thing. He’s been following you since he got his license a few months back, maybe a month or two. But that guy is still out there, and the fact that Brent Muller has nothing to do with this, puts us back at square one.” I wasn’t listening to what he was saying.

  The photos from the album still echoed in my mind. The idea of white roses, and how Brent was partially responsible for the beautiful person Marie became made my eyes water even more. I was never directly connected to Brent, but he affected Marie in a major way . . . and in turn, affected me.

  Clef didn’t make the stir of emotions I was experiencing any better. I no longer knew where to place these emotions, so they lingered there, constantly reminding me of everything.

  I can’t help but think of how Marie should be here, alive, and I should have died that night. She was a kid; she was just sixteen years old, not even out of high school yet. She was protecting me and that was my job, not hers. Lately, life without her has been the hardest thing to handle, not death.

  It’s hard to feel grateful that Marie had a person like Brent in her life when the ache on my face reminds me of him. The scars on my neck, and all my guilt and pain remind me of him. I don’t blame him, but I do hate him for hating me. Instead of trying to reconnect with me in a positive light, he blamed, attacked me instead. As if I didn’t already blame myself.

  Somehow, the only person I could think of was my mama. I just had the ache to see her, like that would solve everything. So, I decided to have Clef drive me to my mother’s nursing home. I wipe away my tears, and off we went. At least he’s being useful.

  When I go in and sign in, that may have been the first time they’ve seen me in about a year.

  When I walk in her room, she looks back at me. She smiled, which I wasn’t expecting. My mother didn’t blame me for Marie’s death; she just couldn’t look at me afterwards. I reminded her of Marie. But today, months later, she smiled at me, she embraced me.

  “Katarina, my betee,” She cried joyfully. “I thought you would have forgotten all about me.” She continued, showing me to a seat.

  I didn’t know what to say, I was speechless, almost star struck. “Never mama, how . . . how have you been?” I stumbled. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “This week I’ve been popular, so many visitors.” She smiled.

  “What? Who, who visited you mama?” I asked.

  “Brent, you remember, Marie’s nice friend. He brought me a dozen white roses. He knew they reminded me of Marie. An old friend also stopped by, but he hasn’t been a stranger,” She explained, looking towards the ground. Her smile vanished and so did mine. I couldn’t understand why Brent was here, and why he would bring her flowers, then decide to attack me. I’m not the main victim here, but I’m becoming another kind of victim, especially now that I get treated like a murderer. When someone tells you what they think of you enough times… you start to believe it.

  “Mama, I have to go, but I’ll be back, I promise.” I say softly, hugging her.

  “Oh, but you just got here, betee.” She sighed, walking me to the door. My heart catches every time she called me betee, I haven’t heard her call me that in a long time.

  “I know mama, but I really have to go. I just… I just wanted to see you, even for a little while.” She kissed me on the forehead and let me run out of the door.

  When I get in Clef’s car, I tell him that Brent visited my mother. He got out of the car and went into the building. I stay in the car, check my messages, mainly for a text from Chelsea or Mr. Mason, but I had no new messages. I had no missed calls, and no voicemails. I hate when my phone isn’t chaotic, it makes me think something is wrong. I guess if someone was calling me over and over, that could also make me think something went wrong.

  When he came back about five minutes later, he had the sign-in logs.

  “He was here yesterday, and the day before, and last week. He’s consistent,” Clef says, shifting through the logs. I didn’t understand. His relationship was with Marie, not my mother. Knowing that Brent came to see my mom, and then tried to kill me made me furious. When Clef and David weren’t watching, I will be sneaking out to pay Brent a visit behind bars.

  ………………………………………………………………………………

  When we got back to my apartment, Chelsea was there. She was in her sweats and her hair was in a bun, surprisingly she didn’t have on any makeup. When I walked in, she ran to me and pulled me down next to her on the couch.

  She begins to ramble, but I’m not listening. I can’t stop thinking about Brent.

  “Clef, when can I get back in my car
?” I ask, completely ignoring Chelsea.

  “They’re done with it, just waiting on results. I still wouldn’t use it though; in case they missed anything or need to double back to re-examine.” He said before stepping out to take a call.

  I turn to David who I just noticed was sitting beside Chelsea. “Brent has been visiting my mother for the past week, on and off. His last visit was yesterday. He brought her a dozen white roses, just like the roses someone sent me at the hospital.” I spill.

  “Do you think he might have been the one to set the fire, and send the note when you came home from the hospital? He could be interfering with someone who already has it out for you. Evidence is crossing.” David says, while writing in his notebook.

  “That could explain more than one penmanship on each letter.” I say, standing up.

  “I’ll get back to the station and question him again. Let’s see if he talks,” David stands. This is my chance. I can go to the station with David and wait until David leaves to get Brent alone.

  “I’ll go with you,” I said, following up behind him. Clef walks in, with a serious expression on his face.

  “I went ahead and sent the brush into the lab and they got a match for the blonde hairs in the brush. They brought Bridget Goulding into custody. Do you know a Bridget Goulding?” I stopped in David’s footsteps.

  “She was the leader of a support group I was in, she hated me. She used to say I would always ‘distill hope from everyone else’.” I almost smiled thinking of all the hilarious misery I put Bridget through. “She gave me this,” I said, grabbing the movie she gave me, Shadow Keeper. David took it from me, and we all left. I guess we couldn’t leave Chelsea, so, Chelsea too.

  Now I had to rearrange my plan to talk with Brent. It was that second before I got into David’s car that I came up with something and I hoped it works.

  “Wait, on second thought. I really need to be alone, even if it’s for fifteen minutes. I’m going to take Chelsea’s car, I’ll follow you guys, if that’s okay with you,” I say, looking at Chelsea. She shrugs and throws me her keys. Now I could have a way back here no matter where everyone else was.

  I jump in the car and wait for them to pull off before I drive out after them. I guess the rest of the plan was to wait out at the station until David, Clef, and Chelsea leave. Then, I would tell someone at the front desk that I was here to visit Brent Muller.

  When we get to the station, I split up from everyone else. I thought that if I was going to wait, I might as well roam around. When I pass the front desk, I wink at the receptionist. I seem to be here more than anyone who worked here, so we’ve been acquainted. I realized that there aren’t many places to go in a police station. There are cubicles everywhere and there are offices that I can’t go in.

  “Is there a bathroom here?” I say to the receptionist. She nods and points in that direction. “Thank you,” I say, shuffling towards her pointer finger.

  When I arrive, I look myself in the mirror and play with my hair. It reminded me of when Maire used to play with her hair, her twirling formed perfect long swirls in the front.

  Then, I think to myself, what am I doing? And that was it. Something just broke in me, and that something, was vital to my sanity.

  I stormed out of the bathroom, tears dropping to the floor. It’s funny how easy the little things I think about break me, just like that.

  “Excuse me, which room is Officer David interrogating Brent Muller?” I asked the front desk, biting my lip. Maybe the pain would knock some sense into me before I made a mistake. It didn’t.

  “IR 2,” She said, pointing. I walked slowly to the room and as soon as I reached the door, I twisted the knob, and flung the door open. David jerked his head back, and Brent looked up at me.

  “Leave my mom out of whatever sick game you’re playing!” I screamed, charging at him. I strike him in the face a second before David had a hold of me, pulling me out of the room. When I looked up at Brent, I could have sworn I saw a grin on his face.

  With rage over taking me, I start swinging at David.

  “Let me go!” I scream, turning the eyes of the entire station towards me. “David put me down!” I scream, swatting at his face. I start trying to pry his arms from my waist, clawing at him with my nails, but he wouldn’t break. Kicking didn’t seem to work, and neither did shouting. So, my grief took over, and I slump over his shoulder, crying.

  Once David felt me go limp, he loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. Now Chelsea comes out of nowhere and is screaming, trying to figure out what’s happening. David hands me off to Chelsea, mouthing “take her outside,”.

  Chapter 11

  “Chelsea . . . I can’t anymore, I just can’t.” I screamed once we got out of ear shot. I am so tired of holding myself together when I have every right to fall apart.

  “I’m not asking you to,” She said, grabbing me by my shoulders. She looks me in my eyes, and when I stare back into her keen, serious eyes, I understood. I understood what she meant, and I knew that she was the only one that would ever understand me.

  My crying stopped after a few minutes and we stayed outside to talk for what seemed like hours. It’s been a while since we’ve been able to just . . . talk. Lately, I’ve been so occupied with this whole situation, I didn’t realize I had my own personal stress reliever living under the same roof as me.

  “He went to visit my mom, Chelsea,” I snivel, trying to convince her I wasn’t overreacting, even though I didn’t need to.

  “But David was already in there trying to figure out what was going on, why couldn’t you just . . . wait for him?” She asked. I didn’t know my answer because there wasn’t one. There was no response to the anger or grief that took over me.

  “You know, everyone wants their life to be like the movies, but that’s what makes them movies, they’re unrealistic.” I said while biting my lip, realizing that was me at one point. In fact, it still is me. Wishing to get back to how it was before all this non-sense happened. At this point, I don’t really know where everything started going wrong, because it didn’t happen online.

  “Chelsea?” I asked, looking over at her. “I want to get him.” I said. Of course, she looked at me funny, but that’s what I expected. She knew that catching him wasn’t my job, it was theirs. She didn’t say anything, and for the next hour, neither did I.

  Chelsea went in to tell Clef and David that it was getting late, and since I had Chelsea’s car, we were leaving. When I get in the car, I pull out my phone. I had a missed call from the nursing home, so I called them back.

  “Hello, is this Katarina McCollum?” They asked, waiting on my response.

  “Y-Yes, is everything okay?”

  “Your mother had a visitor, one Brent Muller; everything was okay until our security heard a gunshot.” When she said the phrases Brent Muller, until, and gunshot, my heart stopped three times over.

  “W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” I look up to see Chelsea coming my way.

  “Security—” she tried to repeat, but I cut her off.

  “Brent Muller is being detained by the police, that’s impossible.” I was all out of tears, but that didn’t stop them from threatening to make a cameo. Chelsea got in and started the engine.

  “Where’s my mom?” I yell a little louder, in attempt to make her stop stumbling with her words.

  “She’s at St. Remolden’s hospital. Security got to her too late, the guy jumped out of her window, we didn’t catch him.” She finished. Go to St. Remolden’s, I mouthed to Chelsea.

  “Did you call the police?” I growled.

  “Y-Yes we did, immediately,” I didn’t understand. If they called in about someone with the last name McCollum, why did David and Clef not know about it?

  I didn’t know what else to do. I needed to know more about what happened, but I also needed to let David and Clef know.

  Chelsea pulls off as I text both, David and Clef. I couldn’t stop shaking in fear, anger, and disgust. I could tell
Chelsea was anxious as well. I could tell by the way she tapped her fingertips on the steering wheel.

  “What happened?” She asked, taking her eyes off the road for a split second to look at me.

  “Someone claiming to be Brent happened. They shot my mom; I don’t know where, but hopefully it doesn’t kill her.” I breath.

  Not to make this about me, but I can’t seem to get a break. After I find closure in one situation, another comes banging at my door. No one person should have that much control over someone else’s life; to make me cry whenever they want, to make me angry whenever they want. It felt like he was my puppet master, pulling all my strings.

  Sometimes, I wonder if I’m playing into his hands, if he only does things because I give him the reaction he’s looking for. It’s like I’m feeding him my energy and tears for nutrients.

  We pulled up to the hospital and I decided not to cry, or get angry, or throw a raging fit to where I’d want to break the hospital walls. I’d hold it together, keeping strong for myself, and for my mother.

  Chelsea ran inside and I chased after her. I didn’t realize how upset she was until now. She was on the brink of tears and so was I. But I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to cry.

  “Khalia McCollum, please.” Chelsea asked the receptionist at the front desk.

  “Room 203, only one of you can go back there,” She responded, pointing down the hall. I take off, and Chelsea stays behind in the waiting room.

  When I reach her room, I almost fall out. My heart stopped for a good five seconds. It was the person standing over my mom’s bed, holding her hand that shocked me.

  “Dad?” I asked, walking toward him, slowly. It was getting harder not to cry. He was here, interacting with my mom in a way that showed he loved her. I could see it in his eyes. I haven’t seen him look at her that way since Marie was about . . . eleven. He let mama’s hand go and wraps me in a hug tighter than elastic.

  He didn’t smell like beer. he dressed decent, and it seemed like he lost a few pounds. I allowed one tear to fall from my face, before hugging him back. He pulls away, wiping it from my cheek.