(My theme is an on-going story, each chapter title being a word starting with the day's letter of the alphabet. The word will either be used in the tale itself, or I'll use some form of its definition. Happy reading and thanks for stopping by! ~Jen)
Imogene sat, mug of coffee between her still trembling hands. Kyle the guy at the counter, thought it was job stress. That's what she always told him. Why should she disillusion him now? His life was normal. HE was normal. The big question in her mind now was, was SHE normal?
Normal people don't get gunned down in their homes.
Normal people don't get shot in the stomach (TWICE!!), get up, and shake it off.
Normal people don't have weird, ninja assassin types rummage through their apartment while they lay bleeding out on the rug.
A rug that belonged to the apartment that was now stained for all eternity with blood. HER blood.
Imogene's head hit the counter hard.
"Hey, it can't be that bad," Kyle the coffee guy said.
Imogene laughed. Almost.
"No I guess not. I could be being stalked by ninja assassins and get shot twice in the stomach."
She looked up. Kyle blinked. "That would at least be different."
She blinked as he walked away. Different. Yes. That was one way of looking at it. She started twirling the necklace she always wore; a necklace, her mother told her, was given by her father just before he left. He left, so her mother told her, because he had to.
She took a long slurp of coffee. Maybe she just dreamed it. Maybe the stress of her job really was getting to her and she imagined the whole thing. She could believe that, maybe, if it wasn't for the dull burning in her gut and the massive blood stain on the carpet.
Or the faint memory of someone -not a ninja assassin- helping her off the ground and helping her to the sofa. Someone tall who asked her about a key.
She twirled her necklace once more, tucked it under her shirt, finished her coffee and left. Something told her they'd be back. Something told her she had to get the blood off the carpet before her lease was up in June. And something else, something faintly reminiscent of her mother's voice, told her that her father had something to do with it all.